Page 46 of Scars of Anatomy

Jackpot

I wake up to warm lips pressing kisses along my back, a few damp strands of silky hair gliding across my skin. I sigh in contentment, snuggling my face deeper into my pillow.

I focus on her lips as they place several kisses across my back, shoulder blade to shoulder blade, kissing every letter of my tattoo. U-N-K-N-O-W-N .

My chest tightens with an emotion I can’t quite decipher, the meaning behind my tattoo starting to crumble since she walked into my life.

I roll onto my side, blindly reaching for her. My arm lazily hooks around her waist, and I realize she’s standing at the edge of my bed.

“Hi,” I rasp, pulling her closer and burying my face in her stomach, smelling a familiar soap and shampoo. My soap and shampoo.

Damn it. Damn it . She smells like me , and for some reason that ignites something primal and possessive deep inside of me. She must have stolen my shower caddy and snuck off to the shower earlier this morning while I was asleep.

She giggles softly, carding her fingers through my hair. “Hi,” she whispers, leaning down to place a kiss on my cheek.

I hum in contentment, feeling a sense of peace and satisfaction I haven’t felt since, well, ever.

“What are you doing up?” I ask, my eyes still blissfully closed, heavy with sleep.

Her fingernails continue to gently graze over my scalp, sending a shiver down my spine.

“I still have the final for my other section of Professor Cooper’s lab,” she reminds me. I completely forgot about it.

I groan in protest, tightening my arm around her waist. “No.”

She giggles sweetly. “No? Come on, I have to go,” she urges me gently, managing to slip from my hold. “And I need this,” she mutters under her breath, her fingers grazing my wrist and hand as she slips her hair tie from my wrist.

Before it can slide up and over my fingers, I capture the small band in my fist, holding it hostage.

Blearily, I blink open my eyes to stare up at her beautiful face, her cheeks rosy and hair damp from her shower.

Her long caramel-colored locks cascade over one shoulder, the ends dripping onto one of my sweaters, which adorns her torso.

“Not until you kiss me first,” I state, tilting my lips up in offering.

A small, amused smile tugs at her lips before she leans down and presses them to mine.

I kiss her lazily, lovingly, letting go of the band to cup her cheek in my hand.

Savoring the kiss, not wanting it to end anytime soon, I slide my hand back to tangle my fingers in her wet hair, gently fisting the dark strands, deepening the kiss.

She giggles and hums against my lips in protest, eventually breaking free. “Bronx,” she whines adorably through a string of giggles, an infectious smile on her face. “I’m going to be late.”

I attempt to wrap my arm back around her waist to prevent her from leaving but she steps back quickly, escaping my hold.

My arm hangs limply off the mattress, and I let out a dramatic huff, causing her to laugh. I peek up at her through my lashes, and watch her tie her hair up in a ponytail.

“I should be done around eleven today. Would you maybe want to meet me around that time and do an early lunch?” she asks, suddenly a little shy, making me smile.

“Of course, baby. I’ll meet you outside of Professor Cooper’s office,” I promise.

She smiles, a light blush spreading across her cheeks. “Okay, I’ll see you later. I love you.”

My grin widens. “I love you too,” I state, watching her slip out the door.

I roll over onto my stomach, hooking my arms underneath the pillow and smiling into it, satisfaction thrumming through my veins. I let out a long, contented sigh, replaying last night’s events in my head, wishing I could hold her just a little longer.

Last night was perfect, unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. Sure, I’ve had sex countless times, but last night—with her—I craved something more. It meant something more.

Ultimately, I think what we both craved wasn’t sex, but intimacy. To be wanted, touched, looked at, adored—to have our actions speak louder than words can. We wanted to be vulnerable, to fall all in and have a sense of security, safety. Trust.

My eyes flutter closed, and I drift off to sleep for another hour or so, a smile on my lips, thinking about her.

I walk into the science building, grinning cheek to cheek, nothing able to sour my good mood. I take a left down the hallway lined with professors’ offices, and take a seat on the bench closest to Professor Cooper’s office.

Five minutes later, I hear a door creak open and Olivia’s melodic, cheerful voice floats down the hall as she bids Professor Cooper goodbye and wishes her a good break. She slips into the hall, her mouth spreading into a grin as soon as she spots me, a slight skip entering her step.

I stand and extend my hand to her, reeling her in as soon as her hand lands in mine. Our chests press together, and she stands on her tiptoes, winding her arms around my neck before molding her mouth to mine.

I smile into the kiss, gripping her hips and pulling her that much closer. “Hi.”

She leans back, her face absolutely glowing and eyes shining with happiness. “Hi. Ready to go grab lunch?”

“Mh-mm.”

I peck her lips a few more times before pulling away, grabbing her hand, threading our fingers together, and leading her down the hall. Her opposite hand curls around my tricep, her head resting against my bicep as we walk out of the science building and into the chilly December air.

“How did the final go?” I ask as we walk across campus.

“Good. Everyone passed and left me a good review for Professor Cooper.”

“That’s great,” I state, kissing the top of her head.

“Yeah, I’m just glad everyone passed.” She sighs in relief, knowing it will reflect well on her and prove her teaching capabilities.

I hum in acknowledgment, happy for her. “Of course they would with you as their TA.”

She gives me a grateful smile and plants a delicate kiss on my arm, making my heart melt.

“How are you feeling?” I ask softly, changing the subject, my thumb rubbing circles into the back of her hand.

She looks up at me with confusion, a small knot forming between her brows.

“After last night,” I clarify.

“Oh.” Her eyes light with realization. “Uh, good,” she says, suddenly becoming shy.

I can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips, finding her adorable.

She clears her throat, desperate to change topics. “How was your morning?”

I refrain from making a crude joke about missing and only thinking about her while she was gone.

“Good. Really good, actually,” I admit, breathing out an airy chuckle, an uncontrollable, goofy smile making its way onto my lips. After I got up and got ready, good news upon good news just fell into my lap this morning. “A lot happened while you were gone.”

She arches a dark brow, a curious smile teasing her lips. “Oh?”

“Mh-mm. I’ll tell you over lunch.”

She continues walking toward the school’s cafeteria, her body jerking and stumbling backward—her hand still in mine—when I unexpectedly turn right and heading toward the parking lot.

She lets out a little noise of surprise. “Where are you going?”

“To get some real food,” I state.

After the waitress leaves our table to go fill our orders, Olivia scoots forward in her seat, crossing her arms over the tabletop. “Well, what’s your good news?” she asks, bouncing with excitement and interest.

The smell of grease hangs in the air and the soft sizzle of the oil in the fryers behind the counter increases in volume when the kitchen staff drop another load of fries in.

For lunch I brought Olivia to a popular burger joint off campus to celebrate the end of finals week and reward ourselves for not only making it through finals, but for also making it through all the other unexpected bullshit thrown at us.

I comfortably recline back in the booth, debating where to start, still feeling the ecstasy of the high I’m currently on—have been on since last night—slide through my veins. I swear, it feels like I’ve hit the jackpot and luck is finally on my side.

I list all my good news the way I received it this morning, in chronological order. Normally, I’m never one to enjoy phone calls—hell, half the time I don’t even answer them—but today they just kept rolling in, one after the other, with good news. I didn’t even have a single spam caller.

“School called me this morning,” I start off, watching her expression sober. “Quinton is being expelled,” I say flatly, trying not to show any emotion in order to gauge her honest reaction.

Her expression is almost stoic, neutral as she absorbs the information, but I can tell she’s conflicted. At the end of the day, she, Delilah, and Rat Boy were a pretty tight-knit friend group for the past four years. But that doesn’t excuse his behavior. He purposefully hurt her for revenge.

I go on to explain that the school brought him in this morning for questioning and he squealed like the little rat he is.

He confessed that Adrianna approached him and originally came up with the plan to pull the fire alarm and sneak into my room to mess with my alarm clocks, making me miss the lab final. He said she paid him to help her.

Apparently, when he snuck into my room he swapped out the batteries of my alarm clock with nearly empty ones—explaining why my clock was working the night before and wound up dead the next morning.

He also managed to hack into my phone, which I’d forgotten on my desk when Olivia and I walked out, going into my settings to put my alarm on silent.

While Quinton is for sure being expelled for getting caught, they are still working on a case of action for Adrianna since there’s not much solid evidence against her, only his word.

But I don’t doubt she’ll get what’s coming to her eventually.

I can’t imagine Rat Boy not putting up a fight to drag her down with him.