Page 47 of Release

Chapter Eleven

Then

Ellen and I are twenty, and we’re in our sophomore year of college. We moved out of the dorm and into our own apartment a couple of months ago after my mom died and left me a small life insurance policy.

Mom never knew what really happened to me as a kid. I never told her the truth. Why should I? It would have filled her with guilt, and I didn’t know how to tell her without telling her the truth about what I did, either. I damn sure didn’t want her knowingthat.

She also didn’t know about me and Ellen. Only that we were good, close friends, closer than sisters.

But there are few things as strong as the firmly held convictions of a college student desperately in love.

That would beme.

I am convinced I can be everything Ellen needs. I am convinced I can help her see she doesn’t need to be scared of her family or their narrow-minded beliefs, which allow her to hold herself hostage to them, in many ways.

That I can convince her I amenoughfor her.

I’m waiting up and watching TV when she comes home from her third date with fucking George Forrester.

Granted, the guy’s hot, his family has money, and he earns good grades. Wants to be a lawyer. Seems driven, not like he thinks he’s entitled to it. Like he wants to earn it and is hungry to work hard to get it. I can respect that and still hate his guts.

He’s twenty-two with gorgeous blue eyes, a junior, and I see the way he looks atmygirl.

It’s different than the way any other guy she’s gone out with has looked at her. This is also the first guy who’s made it three dates with her. Usually, she’ll drop them after the first date, sometimes a second date.

Because my girl is smart and has damn good taste. Which is why I sometimes wonder why she even puts up with me.

Except in addition to actual dates, she’s had coffee and lunch with George a couple of times.

That’s how Iknow. That, and the look on her face right now when she realizes I’m still awake.

Oh, and one other thing.

She walks over to the couch and sits next to me. “We need to talk, Case,” she gently says.

NotMa’am.

I feel a hard, cold ball trying to congeal in my gut. Even though I lean in and kiss her, hoping I can make her forget this guy, she doesn’t simply melt for me like she usually does.

Not this time.

This time, she sadly sighs and looks at me with those gorgeous green eyes. “Ireallylike him,” she whispers.

“You slept with him?”

“Not yet.”

“He pressuring you for it?”

She softly laughs. “No, that would beme. But it’s going to happen, Case. Ireallythink he’s the one. I think you’re going to like him once you get to know him.”

I shove her back onto the couch and kiss her, hard, fisting her hair and enjoying the way she softly moans for me. “Well, when he fucks up, just rememberI’mgoing to be here waiting to help you pick up the pieces,girl. Because you’llalwaysbe my girl.”

I kiss her again, wrapping her hair around my hand and keeping her head in place while I ruck up her skirt and slide my fingers inside her panties.

In this moment, she’s stillmine, and I’ll be damned if I’ll share her a second before I’m forced to.

She’s wet—for me or for him, I don’t know, and I don’t care.