Page 35

Kota

I was extraordinarily warm as my eyes flickered open. They began closing slowly again before snapping back open with realization.

I was not in my own bed.

There was the lightest of snores coming from behind me, and although I already knew who it was, there was some thought, or prayer , deep in my mind that maybe I was somehow wrong.

Bit by bit, I turned, peeking over my shoulder.

Fuck.

Crew was fast asleep, his brown curls draped carefully over his forehead.

I sat up as slowly as possible, holding my breath as if breathing would cause him to wake up. Shifting out from underneath the covers, I grabbed my dress and underwear off the floor before scurrying out of Crew’s room.

When I got to mine, the door crashed shut behind me, and I pushed my back against it, blowing out a breath in disbelief.

I hadn’t been lying last night when I told Crew that I wasn’t that drunk. Truly, I wasn’t. I knew exactly what I was doing; I just didn’t know why I did it. Based on the way Crew had been looking at me earlier in the night, and then how he stood up for me to Bobby, it all made him look desirable in the moment.

Crew was attractive. I’d always thought that. But his ego and lengthy hostility took that away. After last night, I probably fed that ego. I was probably the only girl on the planet that didn’t jump his bones on sight, and now he could add me to the list of girls who had.

I threw my dirty clothes into the hamper and practically dove into the shower, attempting to scrub off all the memories from last night.

Not that it was bad. Because it sure as hell wasn’t.

I’d never had a guy make me finish more than once until now, and even once was pushing it for most. No wonder why girls wanted a second round with Crew.

No way in fucking hell was I going to say that aloud though. Ever.

I was quietly cursing myself in the shower for finally allowing his charm to get to me. And even more so, I was quietly cursing him for making it so goddamn difficult to forget about what happened last night.

His hands applying pressure in all the right spots across my body, his tongue grazing along my inner thigh, his dick as he—

Stop, Kota, I demanded myself.

I could feel the insides of my thighs tingling just from the thought.

I swallowed a lump of annoyance. I needed to go back to bed for a few hours or something. At least that way, I wouldn’t be fighting the urge to keep remembering it. Or worse, fighting the urge to touch myself to the thought of Crew.

After drying off, I headed straight to my bed, bundling up in my blankets. My eyes drew to a close, and the harder it became to clear my head, the more my body seemed to tense rather than relax.

It took a while, but eventually, I drifted back to sleep.

***

My nap was not productive at all.

Instead of dreaming about quite literally anything else, I dreamt of Crew.

I didn’t remember the specifics of the dream. All I remembered was that he was there and that clothes were not .

Bridget and Lane were supposed to be coming back today, but neither of them would be home for a few more hours. To pass some time and distract myself, I grabbed the book I had sitting on my nightstand. But when I opened it to where I’d left off, the first thing my eyes landed on was a sex scene.

Not a good idea right now.

I tossed the book beside me in frustration, letting out a measly groan.

There was a light tap on my door, causing me to stare at it for a moment.

Was Bridget home already?

I wandered over, trying to look nonchalant as if I hadn’t slept in our roommate’s bed last night.

But when I opened the door, there Crew stood, nervously rubbing his hands together.

“Hey,” he said.

I lifted my chin, focusing too hard on keeping my voice steady, even though all I was doing on the inside was screaming. “Hi.”

His gaze flitted around; he looked lost. “Can we talk about last night?”

It took nearly three months of living here for the stone wall between us to crack and begin the process of crumbling. Now, it felt like the wall was repairing itself.

“Nope,” I answered, trying not to let the uncertainty or awkwardness I was feeling shine through. “Nothing happened.”

Crew’s chin tipped towards his chest. I couldn’t tell if the look in his eyes was relief or disappointment. “Nothing happened?”

“Nothing happened,” I repeated.

His chin raised, and as it did, his brown eyes became a portal into his thoughts. It wasn’t relief or disappointment he was feeling. It was bitterness, a small seed of resentment being dropped and planted at our feet.

“Alright,” he gritted through his teeth reluctantly. “Nothing happened.” With that, he turned and walked away, and honestly, I’d never felt more confused.

Shouldn’t he feel relieved that he wouldn’t have to worry about me telling Bridget, who would obviously tell Lane?

Unless he himself was planning on telling Lane...

I doubted it though. After all, Crew was the one that made the No hooking up rule.

It would just be easiest to forget about this whole thing, act like it never happened and go back to hating each other. And by the look on Crew’s face as he had walked away from my door, I didn’t think the hating each other part was going to be very hard to restore.

After two more hours filled with distractions, Bridget finally knocked on my door. “Hey,” I said as I let her in.

“Hey,” she smiled, “how was your moms?”

Oh, right. I hadn’t even told Bridget that I didn’t end up staying there. I opened my mouth to tell her that I was actually here for the weekend, but then thought better of it. Being at my mom’s place was the perfect alibi.

“Good,” I lied, a twinge of guilt tightening in my chest as I climbed back into bed. “How was home?”

“Good, nothing too exciting. It was Bianca’s birthday last night, so of course she made my parents throw her a big sweet sixteen.” B rolled her eyes.

“Sounds fun,” I said sarcastically.

She sighed and shrugged. “It was alright. Nice to see my parents.”

I gave a small, quiet nod in agreement, causing B’s eyes to zero in on me in suspicion. “Everything okay? You’re acting strange,” she said.

“I’m fine,” I fidgeted, propping myself up with my elbows on the bed. “How am I acting strange?”

“You’ve got that look on your face like you’ve done something you shouldn’t have.”

Oh, no. She’s onto me. She knows.

B’s hand found its way onto her hip, and she leaned into it, studying me like it would allow her to read my mind. “You texted Bobby, didn’t you?”

Holding my breath, my mind reeled. Yeah, sure. I texted Bobby. Let’s go with that.

I sighed as convincingly as possible, my head dropping. “Yeah.”

B gave a light tsk with her tongue, shaking her head. “It was bound to happen.” She raised a finger at me, a bright blue nail pointing in my direction. “As long as you don’t give into his shit.”

“No problem,” I smiled at her as she left my room.

No problem at all.

Because the only problem that I currently had was the fact that I had sex with my roommate last night.

And why the hell did I kind of want to do it again?