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“Am I?” Brett flashed me his normally cold smile, but this time I could feel the warmth behind it. Or maybe it was the same smile as always, and I’d just gotten used to it. I’d started to like that dangerous, perfect smile of his.
“You are! You’re calling me deranged, an uncultured swine, and a freak, all because I don’t like syrup.”
He leaned on the table, still grinning. “There’s nothing wrong with being a deranged, freakish uncultured swine. Besides, you’re mine, so you’remyweirdo who doesn’t like syrup. How’d you sleep?”
A random change of subject, but one I was grateful for, especially because I didn’t know how to respond to the wholeminething. It was a line my stalker had used, but when he’d said it, I’d only felt uneasy and sick. When Brett told me I was his, I got all warm and squirmy, and my heart started to beat a little faster.
“I slept good. You?” Brett watched the house up until three or four in the morning. My stalker had never called after that. Plus, now that he accompanied me to campus during the day, he didn’t have much time to sleep.
“Same. Not going to lie, it was hard to stay up last night because somebody tuckered me out during the day—”
My cheeks reddened at that, and I had to turn my face away in an attempt to hide it.
Brett, the jerk he was, decided to address it, “Awe, are you blushing? Good. You definitely should be blushing. After what we did yesterday, all the positions we tried, every inch of that skin should be red.”
“Okay, that’s enough,” I said, wanting to stop him now before he went even further. Thinking about our time together, as hot as it had been, wasn’t something I should do when I had to leave for class soon. Well,wehad to leave, I should say.
“What? Don’t want to think about me bending you over and having my way with you? Or maybe you’re imagining me taking you here, on this table—”He tapped the top of the table.
I finished my waffles in a hurry, speaking with my mouth full: “That’s definitely not what I’m thinking about.” Although, now that Brett mentioned it, the image of me on the table, my legs spread, and Brett pounding away between them did pop into my head.
But that was his fault, not mine.
Brett got up with me, following me to the dishwasher, where we put our cups and my plate. “I think you’re lying,” he mused. And it was only because he stood directly behind me that I didn’t turn around. “I think youarethinking about me taking you on the table. Or maybe even on that counter you’re staring daggers at right now.”
I wasn’t staring daggers at the counter. I was just… trying to find a place for my eyes since Brett was right behind me. He was making it awfully hard to focus on, well, anything that wasn’t him.
His hands found my hips, and though he didn’t spin me around, I could still feel his tall frame leaning down. His voice came out low and smooth, “If you ever want to christen any other room in this house, all you have to do is ask.”
I shivered. I couldn’t help it. A part of me wanted to lean back into him and tell him to carry me up to my room, that I wanted to have a replay of yesterday afternoon, but the bigger part of me knew if we went down that road, I’d never get to class today, and since I’d already skipped yesterday… I didn’t want to make a habit of skipping, regardless of how tempting it was.
So, instead of doing any of that, I managed to slip out of his grip and say, “We should get going.”
“What? It’s early yet, isn’t it?”
It was, but I’d be damned if I told him that. If I did, he’d know just how much he affected me, and right now I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.
My bag was still in the car, so all I needed to grab were my keys, and together we left the house. Brett slid on his sunglasses before stepping outside into the bright daylight, and together we headed toward my parked car.
Thankfully, Brett dropped our previous conversation as I drove. He tapped his fingers on his knees the whole way there. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was impatient or anxious or something, but that couldn’t be right, because it was Brett we were talking about here. The man didn’t get anxious.
We drove in silence, but I was grateful for that silence. It helped me get over being all flustered from what he’d said in the kitchen. Give a girl a break, you know? Let her re-gather herself without thinking about sex every five seconds.
That wasn’t me, anyway. I didn’t fantasize about sex. Not once—for obvious reasons.
Then again, I’d never really enjoyed sex until Saturday night. That was… Brett was… let’s just say he was the stuff romance novels were made of.
And that was the best compliment any guy could ever hope to achieve.
We arrived at campus, and I pulled us into the parking lot. I was so lost in my own thoughts that I neglected to realize something was wrong, and it was only when I parked the car that it came to me.
The parking lot was empty. Not completely empty, but devoid of ninety-five percent of the cars that were usually around this time of day. Sure, I’d come early, but notthatearly. Not early enough to merit the parking lot for commuters being this empty.
What on earth was going on? Where was everybody?
I didn’t turn the car off. I put her in park and pulled out my phone. Brett’s eyes were on me, watching as I went into my school email and found a message that was sent last night—as in, past midnight.
Classes were canceled today, campus-wide, due to an ongoing investigation. That’s all it said.
