29
Hazel
I sat on the edge of my bed, my knees pulled to my chest, staring blankly at the floor. The silence in the room felt heavy. Maisie sat next to me, her presence comforting, but it couldn’t ease the tightness in my chest.
“I messed up.” Maisie didn’t respond right away. She was patient, letting the silence stretch between us, knowing I needed to speak, to get it out. But I wasn’t sure where to begin. “I feel like I betrayed Nevaeh,” I murmured, my voice breaking. “She’s my best friend. I’ve known her for so long, and yet I went behind her back, Mais, and this is my karma.”
The words hit my chest like rocks, each heavier than the last. Maisie turned to face me, her expression soft but unreadable. She wasn’t shocked. She knew. She knew about Campbell, the moments we’d shared, how I couldn’t stay away from him no matter how hard I tried.
“Haze, you’re not the one who messed up here.”
I looked up at her, confusion clouding my thoughts.
“But I hurt Nevaeh. She’s my best friend, Maisie. I’ve been keeping this from her.”
Maisie shook her head, her tone firm but gentle. “Nevaeh isn’t a good friend, Hazel. You’ve known that for a while now.” She leaned forward, her voice softening. “She never really considers your feelings. She’s been selfish, pushing you to hide who you are for her comfort. And you’ve done it. You’ve been walking on eggshells, trying to make sure she’s okay, even if it means hiding yourself.”
The words hit harder than I expected, the guilt twisting inside me as I looked down at my hands. “But I don’t want to hurt her,” I whispered. “I don’t want to lose her.”
Maisie’s gaze softened, her fingers brushing my hair back from my face.
“You’re not going to lose her. Not because of this. You’re being real with yourself, and you’re being real with Campbell. That’s not something you should apologize for. You have every right to explore your feelings, Haze. You deserve to have love, too.”
I let her words sink in, the tightness in my chest loosening just a fraction. But then, suddenly, I felt it—the familiar tightness in my chest, the air becoming thin, like someone was pressing down on my lungs. Maisie must have seen it in my face because she immediately sat up straighter, her voice sharp with concern.
“Hazel, hey—breathe. Breathe slowly, okay? In and out.”
But I couldn’t. I couldn’t catch my breath, and the panic started to rise in my chest, constricting everything. My hands trembled at my sides, and the room seemed to close in on me.
“Maisie…” I gasped, the words struggling to form. “I can’t… I can’t breathe.”
Her voice softened, but it was urgent now.
“Okay, okay. Just focus on me, Haz. Breathe with me. In… out…”
But my breath came in short, desperate bursts, and the air was slipping away. Everything was spinning, and the world around me felt like it was falling apart.
Maisie didn’t hesitate. She was already up grabbing my inhaler, moving around to my side, her hand gently resting on my back as she tried to guide me through it. “You’re okay, Haz. You’re okay. Just focus on me. In… out… just breathe with me.”
But the tightness in my chest didn’t relent, and my hands shook so hard I could barely hold on to anything. It was too much. Too much at once. And then, everything went black at the edges of my vision. I couldn’t breathe, and Maisie’s voice seemed to fade in the distance.
**
The knock on my dorm door was sharp, almost urgent. I barely had time to process it before the door swung open and I saw him. Campbell Atwood. Standing in my doorway. My stomach dropped. His blue eyes found mine, scanning my face like he was searching for something.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice tight, my heart hammering against my ribs.
Campbell ran a hand through his hair, looking like someone kicked his puppy.
“Maisie said you were having a panic attack.”
I blinked. Maisie. I swore I was going to strangle her. My panic attack had been hours ago. And now—now she was sending him?
“Maisie told you that?” I asked, feeling exposed in a way that had nothing to do with my anxiety and everything to do with him.
Campbell nodded, shifting his weight, looking as out of place as I felt.
“Yeah. She said you needed someone.”
Someone. He was here. And it was too much. I opened my mouth, ready to tell him to leave, to ask why he even cared. But before I could, the door slammed shut behind him. Click . A second later, something heavy thudded against the door from the outside.
“What the fuck?” Campbell muttered, turning around.
He grabbed the handle and twisted, but it wouldn’t budge. Then Maisie’s too-cheerful voice filtered through the door.
“Yeah, so, you guys are the worst. And I can’t take it anymore.”
My stomach plummeted. No. No, no, no.
“Maisie,” I said, already knowing where this was going. “What did you do?”
“I locked the door.” She sounded smug. “And barricaded it. You’re not coming out until you fix your shit.”
I groaned, pressing my fingers to my temple.
“Maisie—”
“Goodnight!” she sang as her footsteps faded down the hall.
Silence. A thick, unbearable silence settled between us. Campbell let out a long exhale, his fingers curling into fists at his sides.
“Fuck sake.” He muttered under his breath.
I crossed my arms.
“You don’t have to look so miserable about it.”
His jaw tightened.
“I didn’t say that.”
I let out a bitter laugh.
“Right. Because you love being trapped with me.”
Campbell’s eyes darkened. A heartbeat of tension passed between us, the air shifting, the walls feeling too close, too warm, too charged. And then I noticed it. Something in his hand. His fingers were curled around it so tightly that I almost didn’t see it.
“What are you holding?” I asked, my brows furrowing.
Campbell stilled. His grip tightened. He looked embarrassed.
“It’s nothing.”
I took a step closer, eyeing it.
“That’s not nothing. Show me.” He exhaled, then—like he had already resigned himself to losing this battle—he uncurled his fingers. And that was when I saw it. A small, familiar blue inhaler. I froze. My stomach flipped. I knew that inhaler. It was the same brand I used. The same one I carried everywhere. My throat tightened. “Why do you have that?”
Campbell shifted, looking anywhere but at me. He blushed. And that did something to my chest that I couldn’t explain. His voice came out rough, quiet.
“I’ve been carrying it around since that night.”
That night. The panic attack. Where he had run to my dorm to get my inhaler. The night he had found me, struggling to breathe, falling apart. And now, he had been carrying this one. For me. In case I needed it. My chest ached.
“You’ve been carrying it this whole time?”
Campbell swallowed, nodding.
“Yeah.”
A lump formed in my throat, and I didn’t know what to do with it. Because Campbell Atwood—the grumpy, closed-off hockey player who pushed me away—had been carrying a spare inhaler for me. Just in case.
“Why?”
He looked at me then, and there was something raw in his eyes.
“Because I wanted to be prepared,” he said. “I never want to see you like that again and be unable to do something.”
Oh. My heart shattered in the best possible way. Because he wasn’t just saying it. He meant it. The truth was there, written all over him. In the tight set of his jaw, the tension in his shoulders, and the way his fingers were still curled around that tiny inhaler like it was the only thing keeping him steady. I sucked in a shaky breath. And then, without thinking—without giving myself the chance to second-guess—I stepped forward. Campbell stiffened. But he didn’t move away. I reached out, brushing my fingers over the inhaler in his hand. His breath hitched. I lifted my gaze to his, our faces too close now.
“Campbell.” I whispered.
His chest rose and fell too fast, like he was on the verge of something he didn’t know how to stop. And then he broke. One second, he stood there, staring at me like I was the most dangerous thing in the world. The next, his hands were on my waist, gripping me like he needed me to stay upright. His lips crashed into mine. And I let him. I kissed him back, every ounce of longing, pain, and frustration bleeding into the space between us. A suffocating fear drove him to hold me ever closer, terrified of losing me. Like he was finally letting himself have me. And I realized maybe I had always been his. Maybe we had always been inevitable.
Campbell’s lips crashed into mine. And everything inside me ignited. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing. It was desperate. His hands were on my waist, my back, my face, like he was trying to memorize every inch of me. I didn’t care that I might lose my virginity in a college dorm. In fact, I never gave much thought to how I’d lose my virginity. And I always imagined that the first time I’d see a penis in real life, I’d run. But this was Campbell. I clutch his hoodie, pulling him down, closer. And he groaned, the sound low and wrecked, as if I’d just undone him.
“Hazel,” he breathed against my lips. “Tell me if you want to stop.”
I shook my head. I didn’t want to. All I wanted was him. He backed me until the backs of my knees hit the edge of my bed. Campbell paused, his forehead resting against mine, his breathing heavy.
“This is a bad idea, Hazel.”
“Then why aren’t you stopping?”
He exhaled, his grip tightening on my hips. We fell onto the bed together. The mattress dipped beneath us. He hovered above me, his weight just enough to press me into the sheets but not enough to crush me. And for the first time, he stilled. His gaze swept over me, dark and unreadable. I shivered, not from the cold, but because I’ve never felt this vulnerable. This seen. His fingers skimmed down my side, slow and reverent, like he was tracing something delicate.
“Tell me if I’m going too far.” He murmured, his voice rough but so damn soft.
I reached up, touching his face, my thumb brushing his jaw.
“I don’t want you to stop.”
It was at that moment, as I gazed into his eyes, that everything I was fighting against was in vain. He’d always been my Campbell.
“Are you sure?”
I nodded, knowing what he was asking. Campbell Atwood was about to be my first, and it’s something I’d wanted more than anything. His kisses turned slower. Not rushed. Or desperate. Just deep and consuming. Like he was trying to tell me something without words. His hands trailed down, fingers skimming the hem of my shirt. He tugged at it, pausing. I nodded. He pulled it off, his lips parting as he took me in.
“Fuck, Hazel.” The insecurity hit me like a tidal wave, and I tried to cover myself, but he stopped me. His fingers skimmed my skin, tracing the curves of my waist. He looked at me as if I were something he couldn’t believe he was allowed to touch. “You’re beautiful.”
My breath caught. No one ever looked at me like this. Like I was something to be cherished. He leaned down, pressing open-mouthed kisses to my throat, my collarbone, my shoulder.
“Campbell.” I whispered, tugging at his hoodie.
He let out a shaky breath, pulling it off and tossing it aside. My fingers skimmed over his defined chest, stopping at a scar on the side of his abdomen.
“What’s this?”
I placed my hand over it, and his palm enveloped mine. He shook his head.
“Nothing to worry about.”
However, I reached up and pressed my lips to it. His breath shuddered and his jaw locked.
“I can’t think when you do that.” He said, his fingers digging into my waist.
“Then don’t think.”
And just like that, his control snapped. His hands were everywhere–my back, thighs, waist, gripping, pulling me against him. My body arched as I felt it all at once. The heat. The tension. The sheer, unbearable need. I felt him. Hard, pressing against me through his jeans, making my stomach flip.
“Fuck, Hazel. We need to stop.” I reached for the waistband of his jeans, but he stopped me. His hand covered mine, his breathing ragged. “Hazel, I don’t want you to feel you have to do this.”
I shook my head.
“I want to.”
His jaw tightened.
“Is this your first time?” He asked, like the words were a revelation. I nodded. His throat bobbed. “And you want me?”
He asked, as if someone had given him a prestigious honor and he couldn’t believe it.
“I want you, Campbell.”
For a second, I thought he was going to back out. That he was going to push me away. But then he kissed me again. The kiss was deeper, softer, but still full of emotion. He took his time, learning me, feeling me. My heart raced when I’d noticed we were both bare. He hovered above me, his forehead resting against mine, his fingers tangling with mine against the sheets.
“Last chance.”
I squeezed his hands.
“I trust you.”
He reached down, his calloused hand caressing my skin.
“I promise I’ll be careful.” He said, his voice thick with restrained desire. “We’ll go at your pace.”
He leaned down, capturing a rosy nipple between his lips, sucking as his hand kneaded my other breast. I gasped and arched into his touch, my fingers threading through his hair.
“Campbell.”
He continued his sensual assault, trailing kisses down my body until he settled between my parted thighs. He looked up at me.
“Hazel, you’re gorgeous.” He said, his large hands caressing the curves of my hips and stomach. “No need to be insecure. Every inch of you is perfect.”
To prove his point, he leaned in and placed a tender kiss above my pussy, another working his way lower until he reached my glistening sex. I heard him inhale before he parted my delicate folds with his fingers and lavished my sensitive flesh with the flat of his tongue. I cried out in shock and pleasure, my back bowing off the mattress. Campbell continued his sensual feast, circling and flicking my clit with the tip of my tongue, then delving deep to thrust into my tight channel. He worked my clit with dedicated fervor, stoking the flames of my desire. His fingers crept higher, finding my hardened nipples and rolling them between his fingertips.
“Campbell, fuck,” I whimpered, my hips undulating against his mouth. “I’m getting close.”
My body tensed, and my thighs quivered around his head as he brought me right to the edge. With a final, hard suckle of my clit, he sent me hurling over, my walls tightening around his tongue. As the aftershocks faded, Campbell crawled back up my body, his erection nestling between my thighs. He captured my lips in a deep, passionate kiss, letting me taste myself.
“We don’t have to keep going.” He breathed against my lips. “We can stop right now.”
“I don’t want to stop.”
He searched my eyes for any sense of hesitancy, but I knew he wouldn’t find any. He nodded. Campbell positioned himself at my entrance, the swollen head of his shaft nudging against my slick folds. He framed my face with his hands, his thumbs caressing my flushed cheeks as he gazed into my eyes with tender adoration.
“You’re exquisite, Hazel,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead, cheeks, and the tip of my nose. “I’ve wanted no one as much as I want you.”
With infinite care, he eased forward, his thick length parting my virgin flesh. He paused as he encountered the thin barrier of my hymen, his muscles tensing. He inhaled, capturing my lips in a deep, sensual kiss as he surged forward, breaking through and burying himself to the hilt in one smooth stroke. A sharp gasp escaped my lips as a brief sting of pain radiated through my core, replaced by an overwhelming sensation of fullness. Campbell remained still, allowing my body to adjust to the intrusion.
“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered, peppering my face with kisses. “Are you okay?”
Despite the momentary discomfort, I felt a sense of love and security in his arms. Baby. He’d never called me that before. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer.
“I’m fine, I promise.”
Campbell moved, withdrawing before sinking back in, setting a gentle rhythm. His hands roamed my body as he made love to me with tender passion.
“You’re doing so well, baby,” Campbell praised, his voice a low, intimate rumble. “You’re taking me perfectly.”
He maintained his tender pace, each deep thrust igniting sparks of pleasure that spread through my nerve endings. My hand slid between our bodies to find my clit, circling the swollen nub with deliberate strokes.
“Fuck, Campbell.”
“That’s it, baby,” he encouraged, as I felt my pussy get slicker. “I’ve got you.”
He increased his efforts, pushing deeper and faster. The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room. My second release was building as he brought me to the pinnacle of ecstasy.
“Campbell, I’m so close.”
He continued his sensual assault, his hips pumping as he drove into my welcoming heat. The bed creaked and shook with the force of his thrusts, the headboard slamming against the wall.
“That’s it, Hazel,” he grunted, his muscles flexing as he held back. “I want to feel you come undone around me.”
His fingers worked my clit with increasing pressure, the rough pad of his thumb circling my sensitive bundle of nerves. Campbell dipped his head to capture my nipple in his mouth, sucking and nipping at the hardened peak. My back arched as a keening cry tore from my throat, my nails raking down his back. My slick walls rippled and clenched around his cock, drawing him deeper.
“I’m coming!”
As I reached my peak, my body quivered with the intensity of my orgasm. With a final, powerful thrust, Campbell buried himself to the hilt, his thick length pulsing as he found his release.
“Hazel!” He cried out, his hot seed spurting deep inside me, filling me as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over him.
He collapsed on top of me, his weight pressing me into the mattress as we rode out the aftershocks of our shared ecstasy. Our breathing slowed, the air thick with the weight of everything that happened.
I felt his body beside mine, warm and steady, his chest rising and falling beneath my cheek. His arm held me close, draped over me, and for the first time, I didn’t feel like I was drifting. I felt like I’d found my place.
His fingers traced idle patterns on my arm, and I let out a soft sigh, the exhaustion catching up. The world outside the room faded, everything blurring into a gentle haze. His touch, his presence—it all felt so right.
I closed my eyes, fighting to stay awake, but it was impossible. The moment lingered, but my body was heavy, my mind too full to hold on to anything else. I couldn’t find the strength to pull away from him, so I let myself sink into the warmth of his embrace, letting the quiet settle over us.
This is it . This is everything.
But the words slipped out before I can stop them.
“I love you.” I whispered, my voice barely more than a breath.
I felt Campbell’s body tense, a sharp intake of breath—he’d heard me. But I couldn’t make myself say anything more. My eyes were too heavy, my limbs too relaxed, and I wanted to stay wrapped in his arms. But I think I ruined the moment.