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Sex and feelings were inextricably linked for most females. Scientific studies proved women received more oxytocin than men after sex. And that feeling accompanying an oxytocin rush was addictive.
The fairer sex was wired differently, and no matter how much we fought against the tide—or simple biology as the case was—it was hard not to fall into that pattern of becoming attached after sex.
Throw in a heap of childhood trauma and abandonment issues, and it was a recipe for disaster.
It didn’t matter that I’d crept out of Mason’s bed yesterday morning in one of his t-shirts and fled Lakers House before he woke up or that I hadn’t tried to text him or reach out since he rocked my world. Deep down, I knew that if he came around looking for a repeat, I’d say yes.
And I hated it.
I hated that I wasn’t strong enough. That my father had screwed me up so badly that I’d risk more heartache just to chase that feeling—that chemical rush—for a little while longer.
“Harper?”
I blinked up at Kalvin and forced a smile. “Sorry, long day.”
“Anything you want to talk about?”
“No, I’m good. Thanks.” I didn’t quite meet his inquisitive gaze. “But my advice to Janelle stands. If you like someone, you should just tell them. Life’s too short, and there’s plenty more fish in the sea.”
At least, that’s what I kept telling myself.
* * *
The loud knock at my door barely touched the bone-deep fatigue I’d woken with.
“Harper?” Aurora called, and I managed to drag my weary, aching body off the bed and to the door.
“Oh my God,” she breathed the second it swung open. “What happened?”
“I got glutened.”
“Glutened?”
“Yep.”
And I was pissed.
I was careful with what I ate. Careful, to the point that I usually took my own snacks to Millers, but Chad had insisted he’d added something to the menu just for me. Something he’d promised had been cooked and prepared in a safe space.
Careless asshole.
I’d woken in the middle of the night with excruciating cramps and waves of nausea battering my insides. I hadn’t vomited, but I hadn’t gotten much sleep, which only made the nausea ten times worse.
“Can I get you anything?” Aurora asked, following me inside my dorm room.
“No, I’m loaded up on Isotonix. I just need to ride it out.”
“Did you email your professors?”
“Yeah. I’m hoping it wears off fast. I have the group at RCC later.”
“Maybe you should call and let them know you won’t be there.”
“I don’t want to miss it.”
It was only my second official session with Scottie. He needed routine, and I didn’t want to be another person in his life who let him down.
“But if you’re sick—”
