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This girl . . . I could get lost in this girl and never want to be found again.

“I—” Her finger skims over her bottom lip. Syn blinks a few times. I really threw her for a loop with my dirty mouth. “We should stop.”

When a girl tells me to stop, I listen. “Ball’s in your court. When you’re ready for more, you tell me.”

She nods, still looking dazed. Dazed but beautiful. Class starts, and Syn is a different person. She leans away from me and presses her body against the opposite armrest, her focus on the lecture.

I slouch in my seat and try my damnedest to pay attention to what the professor is spouting about. Class is boring. Syn next to me is a different beast altogether. She’s the only girl I want to talk to until I’m out of breath. There is a lot to catch up on.

Where’d she go after her mother died? I got the impression her father lived in Mossy Rock, too, though I never met him. Didn’t see proof he existed in the likes of family pictures either when I went over to Syn’s place for dinners with Syn and her mom. Why’d she cheat on me with Grady? If she had feelings for the douchebag, why didn’t she break up with me first?

Of all the guys she had to have kissed, why did it have to be the guy I hated the most? He’s the one who spread the rumors of my dad cheating on my mom.

“Taron, are you okay?” Syn asks out the side of her mouth.

“Yeah, why?”

She tips her head downward. I have a white-knuckle grip on the armrest. Shit. I let go and pretend I’m taking notes. Tap down the rage swirling inside me. I lose interest in the lecture halfway through class, but my interest is piqued when the professor gives us an assignment that is half of our grade.

“I’ve assigned you in pairs based on your last names. Same sex. Opposite sex. Doesn’t matter. You and your partner work through the assignment as just that, partners. Fair warning. I have had partners become real life couples afterward.”

Fuck me, my last name starts with V and Syn is W. There’s a high chance we’ll be paired up.

“I posted the pairings on the classroom site. Click on your names. The scenarios are in there. Four of them. Talk and work through each one, then write a report, one due each week by the end of the week. If you have questions, please come see me.”

Everyone gets on their phones or laptops. I hope we don’t crash the system. I log onto the site using my phone. Sure enough, Syn and I are paired.

“Wipe that shit-eating grin off your face, Taron.”

“I’d rather you do it for me, Pixie Dust.”

Class is dismissed. Crossing her eyes and sticking out her tongue at me, Syn rises from her seat. I watch her walk away, my eyes glued to her swaying hips and tight ass. Her pants mold to her like a second skin. I can’t stop smiling. Syn is sexy. Beautiful.

I send her a text.

Me: Discuss class project after practice? Soon, babe, you’ll have to stick to me like white on rice for you to get paid

Speaking of class project, what is Syn’s major? I’ll ask her at our “discussion.” If I’m lucky, there’ll be less talking and more of me staring at her beautiful face.Fuck sake, Taron, get your head out of your fucking pants. But it’s been too long since you’ve boned a girl, B-man whines. I blow out a breath, rise from my seat, and head to my place for a cold shower.

I’ve been taking a lot of those these days.

On the way out, I get a text from Syn.

Pixie Dust: Work romance out of the question, then? Smirk.

Me: Up to you. Wink. Wink.

She sends back an eye-roll emoji. I laugh.

Pixie Dust: Heading to Midnight’s bar afterward, remember?

Ah, shit, that’s right.

Me: You. Me. Bar. Tap. See u

Three eye-roll emojis this time. Okay, then. I smile. Typical Syn.

At my place, I shower, then plop down on the bed. Phone in hand, I search up the Sterling guys and stalk their social media accounts. There are posts after posts of Dare and Midnight with their “girls.” No need doing a search on Syn. Online, she doesn’t exist. Wasn’t on social media even when we dated.