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“I was at this street party. It’s close by. Thought to ask if you’d like to come.”
“You did?” I try to rub the sleep from my eyes, clear my head. “Nah, I’ll pass. Thanks anyway.”
Her face falls. “You’re probably still tired from the concussion and all that. And that’s my fault. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I sure as hell am not.”
“You’re not? I almost killed you, and even though I didn’t, you got a good hit to the head.”
I sigh, because my mouth’s still not connected to my conscious brain. “Yeah, there’s that. But it was still nice meeting you.”
She snorts, and I smile. Hey, it’s the truth. She probably thinks I’m teasing. I’m not. She’ll never know how much I mean it.
“Wanna stay a while? Order some takeout or something?” I mentally count the money I’ve got left. Fuck, it’s not much.
Sudden panic grips me. The money’s running out—between food and bills, and damn what about the money I owe the landlord—and I still don’t have a goddamn job.
“Not sure,” she says, and I nod, turning away and rubbing a hand over my chest.
“It’s okay. Forget it.” I’m not gonna push her if she’s so uncomfortable and hey, it’s not like I’m good company anyway—torn between angsting about tomorrow and lusting after her. “Fuck.”
Can’t breathe. I grab the hem of the T-shirt and pull it over my head as I limp toward my bedroom. I throw it to the floor and sit down on the bed, trying to get some air back into my lungs.
What the fuck’s happening to me? Haven’t had this in a while.
“Seth?” I start when she enters my room. Didn’t hear her. She’s kicked off her shoes, and her feet whisper on the thin carpet as she approaches the bed. “Hey.”
She’s wearing a low-cut white blouse and a flared black-and-white skirt that leaves her pretty legs bare. I gaze at her, waiting for my lungs to start doing their thing again, allowing me to breathe.
“Something’s wrong,” she says, not asking, and comes to sit beside me. She places her hand over mine. Over my heart. “Tell me what it is.”
Shit. Can’t. I shake my head.
“Is it your mom? Did she call you?”
Goddammit, I forgot about her for a while there. I groan between my teeth.
Seconds tick by in silence.
“You were right, you know,” she says at last. At my uncomprehending look, she leans closer, putting her other arm around my back. “That everything would be okay. I made up my mind about my studies, and somehow I’m not as sad as I thought I’d be. In fact I feel… free.”
She’s looking up at me, her eyes bright, and the knot in my chest eases a little.
“That’s good,” I manage.
“I’ll transfer to the sports department, and later I hope to become a physical therapist. How does that sound?”
I smile. “Sounds awesome. Anything you decide to do would be awesome. You’ll do great.”
She smiles back. “You’re a really nice guy, Seth.”
Yeah. Only “nice” isn’t what I want to be with her. I want more. What I want is to kiss her, fuck her, brand her. Hold her. Make her mine.
What a clusterfuck.
“You should go back to the street party,” I say, trying to be gentle but sounding gruff and winded. “Celebrate.”
“Only if you go with me.”
