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Touch me, Connor.
I want you to…
A hard fist tightens in my core. A low, steady pulse drums between my legs as I imagine his hand on my thigh, guided by my own beneath my skirt.
I kissed Connor Morgan last night.
And he kissed me back.
Sure, there was more — a lot more — but that first kiss hits me like a sucker punch to the heart.
I lick my tingling lips. I graze them with my fingertips. With a chuckle, I peel a sticker off my cheek; the stickiness lingering on my skin. Beta Kappaletters lined with gold. Worth five normal stickers, but I surely have five of those on my arms, too. Get five stickers, earn an invitation to the house’s welcome brunch on Satur?—
“Shit,” I mutter as I launch off the bed.
Within thirty minutes, I’m showered and dressed, every remnant of stickiness on my body banished by my loofah. The stickers I kept, carefully peeling them off and sticking them to notecards on my desk. Beta Kappa. Theta Zeta. Even some Alpha Delta Xi stickers.
See you around, princess.
Too hung over to ruminate on that strangeness, I throw a denim jacket on over my jade-green sundress and head downstairs. Voices carry from the kitchen, along with the sounds of a skillet on the stove.
“There she is!”
I smile at my parents. Mom sits perched on an island stool with a coffee mug in her hands while Dad stands at the stove, keeping one eye on the cooking eggs.
“Good morning,” I say, hopefully betraying nothing of the state I woke up in.
“Good morning, kiddo,” Dad says. “Sit down.”
I stiffen, but I maintain a casual stride as I make my way to the empty stool next to my mother. “What’s up?” I ask, nervous.
He sets a glass of orange juice down in front of me. “Talk.”
“Talk about... what?”
“You’ve officially completed your first week as a Northie,” he says. “How are you liking it so far?”
Mom smiles beside me. Guess she really didn’t say a word about this morning. Or last night.
Thanks, Mom.
I take a sip of my juice to hide the relief on my face. “I like it a lot,” I answer.
“Are your classes fun?” Mom asks.
“Well, I wouldn’t call English 101 or Fundamentals of Public Speaking fun,but Grant’s class seems like it’ll be fun. A little. Once I… figure out what I’m gonna write about.”
Mom reaches out, pushing my hair back from my shoulder. “You’ll come up with something — and it’ll be great.”
I smile weakly. “Thanks.”
“You don’t feel overwhelmed?” Dad asks. “Because you can still drop a class, lower your credit hours for the first semester until you get used to it. No shame in that.”
“I’ll be fine,” I say. “I’d rather get the gen-ed requirements out of the way as quickly as possible.”
Mom nods. “That’s what I did, too.”
“Yeah, don’t be like me,” Dad says. “You don’t want to wait until your senior year to take College Algebra.”
