Chapter 9
I look like I've been mauled by a bear.
A very attractive, pierced, infuriatingly persistent bear who just gave me the best orgasm of my life—again.
I catch my reflection in the hallway mirror outside my dorm and wince. My braid is half undone, chunks of hair are sticking out at angles that defy physics. My lips are swollen. There's a hickey forming on my collarbone that I don't remember getting, and my shirt is inside out.
Inside. Out.
I didn't even notice until right now.
Great. Fantastic. This is fine.
I fumble with my keys, hands still shaking from the adrenaline crash of sneaking out of Jay Cross's apartment at 6 A.M. like a criminal fleeing the scene of a crime.
Which, technically, I am.
The crime being my complete and utter lack of self-control.
I finally get the door open and slip inside, praying Kinsey is still asleep so I can make it to my bed, pull the covers over my head, and pretend the last eight hours never happened.
“What the fuck?”
So much for prayers.
Kinsey is sitting up in bed, coffee in hand, already dressed for her morning run. Her eyes go wide as she takes me in—the sex hair, the wrinkled clothes, the expression of someone who has made a series of catastrophically bad decisions.
“Ally.” She sets her coffee aside slowly, like she's approaching a wild animal. “What happened to you?”
“Nothing.”
“You look like you got into a fight with a leaf blower and lost.”
“Thanks. Very helpful.”
“Your shirt is inside out.”
“I'm aware.”
“And is that a hickey?”
My hand flies to my collarbone. “No.”
“That's definitely a hickey.” She's out of bed now, crossing the room with the determination of someone who smells gossip. “Oh my God. Oh my God. You didn't.”
“I didn't what?”
“You know exactly what.” She grabs my shoulders, spinning me to face her. “You were supposed to help him with his leg, not ride him until the pain subsided.”
I can't deny it. She already knows too much.
I pull away from her, collapsing onto my bed with a groan. “It wasn't supposed to happen.”
“But it did happen.”
“Yes.” I press my palms against my eyes, trying to block out the morning light streaming through our window and the judgment radiating off my best friend.
I sit up, defensive. “You should have seen him, Kinsey.
He was lying on his couch, couldn't even straighten his leg. I had to work the knot out manually, and then...”
“And then?”
“And then things... escalated.”
Kinsey stares at me for a long moment. “Define 'escalated.'“
“I don't want to define it.”
“Ally.”
“Fine!” I throw my hands up. “We had sex, okay? On his couch. With his leg propped up on a pillow because even in the middle of... that... I was worried about his recovery. And then I fell asleep on top of him like an idiot, and when I woke up this morning, I panicked and left.”
“You left?”
“Yes.”
“While he was sleeping?”
“Yes, but not before checking his leg. The elevation helped relax the muscle, and I did some light manipulation while he was still asleep to make sure there wasn't any residual tightness. He should be fine for the game tonight if he doesn't do anything stupid.”
Kinsey blinks at me. “You gave him a physical therapy session while he was unconscious.”
“It wasn't a session, it was just... maintenance.”
“Maintenance.”
“Yes.”
“On the guy whose dick was still inside you when you fell asleep.” Her nose crinkles, but I can see she's doing her best not to judge me.
“It's called being thorough!”
“It's called being absolutely insane.” But she's smiling now. “You really like him, don't you?”
“I don't—that's not—” I splutter. “This was a mistake. A one-time thing. We agreed it was just to get each other out of our systems.”
“And did it work?”
The question hits harder than it should.
Because no. It didn't work. If anything, it made everything worse. Now I know what Jay Cross sounds like when he comes. Now I know how his hands feel gripping my hips, how his stupid piercing hits exactly the right spot when—
She laughs, settling back onto her bed with her coffee. “You're so screwed.”
“No. I'm not. He's not my patient anymore, so I never have to see him again.”
“Never see him again? You're joking, right?”
“No—”
Knock. Knock. Knock.
“Expecting someone?” Kinsey asks.
“No.” My heart is suddenly pounding. “You?”
“At seven in the morning? Who would I be expecting?”
The knock comes again. Louder this time. More insistent.
“Ally.” A voice through the door. Deep, familiar, and absolutely the last person I want to hear right now. “I know you're in there. Open up.”
No. No, no, no.
“Is that—” Kinsey starts.
“Hart.” His voice is muffled but determined. “I can hear you. Either you open this door, or I start making a scene in the hallway. Your choice.”
Kinsey is already grabbing her phone and her keys from her nightstand. “You know what? I'm going to give you two some privacy.”
“What? No! You can't leave me alone with him!”
“Watch me.” She's grinning as she heads for the door. “Besides, I have a feeling this conversation needs to happen without an audience.”
“Kinsey—”
But she's already opening the door, and there he is.
Jay Cross. He's dressed, thankfully, but his hair is a mess and there's a pillow crease on his cheek that suggests he woke up recently.
Woke up and found me gone.
Woke up and came after me.
“Hey,” Kinsey says cheerfully, slipping past him into the hallway. “I'm Kinsey. We haven't officially met, but I've heard a lot about you. Mostly complaints, but you know how Ally is.”
“Kinsey!” I hiss.
“Nice to meet you,” Jay says, not taking his eyes off me.
“You too. Have fun, kids. Don't do anything I wouldn't do.” She winks and then she's gone, disappearing down the hallway like the traitor she is.
The door swings shut behind her, and suddenly it's just me and Jay.
Me and Jay and the memory of everything that happened on his couch.
“You left,” he says.
It's not an accusation. It's just a statement of fact, but there's something underneath it—hurt, maybe. Confusion. The same emotions I've been trying to outrun since I snuck out of his apartment.
“You should be resting your leg.” It's the first thing that comes to my mind that's not dirty. “What are you doing walking around campus at seven in the morning? Do you have any idea how much damage you could be doing right now? You have a game tonight!”
“You should've thought about that before you cleaned me up and then massaged my thigh for an hour. Did you really think I'd stay asleep through that?”
I'm on my feet now, crossing the small room to stand in front of him. “I spent an hour working on that muscle this morning, Jay. An hour. And you're going to undo all of it because you couldn't wait until after the game to—to—”
“To what?” He takes a step closer, and I take a step back. “To ask why you ran?”
“I didn't run.”
“You thought you snuck out while I was sleeping. That's running.”
“I had to—there were things I needed to—” I'm backing up with every step he takes forward, my heart pounding harder with each inch of space that disappears between us. “You were asleep. I didn't want to wake you. You need rest before the game.”
“Bullshit. My cock was hard. We both know I wasn't asleep.”
My back hits the wall. Yeah, I might've ignored that little fact as I left.
He doesn't stop. Keeps moving forward until he's right there, close enough that I can smell him. He smells like sex and that stupidly masculine scent that made me fall asleep on his chest like an idiot last night.
His hands come up on either side of my head, caging me in. “Now, are you going to tell me why you left?”
I bite my bottom lip, refusing to answer.
“Is it because you thought I wouldn't chase you?”
“Jay—”
“Did you think I'd just let you go? That I'd wake up alone and shrug it off like it didn't matter?”
“I don't—I wasn't—”
“Face it, Hart.” He leans in closer, his breath warm against my lips.
“I want you. Not just to get you out of my system.” His eyes are blazing now, intense and certain.
“I've wanted you for three years. Three years, Ally.
And you can't keep saying what's happening between us are mistakes.
It's not just sex. I've never felt like this with anyone else. The connection we have... it's real.”
“You don't know that.”
“I do.” He says it with absolute conviction. “So do you. That's why you keep running from me. You’re feeling the same thing, but you're scared.”
I swallow down the guilt, because he's right. Everything in me is telling me to deny it, and push him away, but for some stupid reason, I can't.
“This isn't over,” he says softly. “Not even close.”
“Jay—”
“I'll see you tomorrow night.”
I blink, thrown by the sudden shift. “Tomorrow?”
“Yup.” That cocky grin is back, the one that makes me want to strangle him and kiss him in equal measure. “I'm taking you on a date.”
“A date?”
“You know, that thing where two people who like each other go somewhere together? Usually involves food, maybe a movie. Sometimes flowers if the guy's feeling fancy.”
“I know what a date is—”
“Great. Then you know what to expect.” He pushes off the wall, finally giving me room to breathe. “I'll pick you up at seven. Wear something nice.”
“I didn't say yes!”
“You didn't say no.” He's already at the door, hand on the knob, looking back at me with an expression that's equal parts smug and sincere. “Get some sleep, Hart. You look like you need it.”
And then he's gone, the door clicking shut behind him, leaving me standing there with my back against the wall and my heart trying to beat its way out of my chest.
I slide down the wall until I'm sitting on the floor, my head in my hands.
What the hell just happened?
My phone buzzes. A text from Kinsey.
Kinsey: So??? Did he declare his undying love?
Kinsey: Did you guys make out against the wall?
Kinsey: Ally I'M DYING OUT HERE
I stare at the messages for a long moment before typing back.
Ally: He asked me on a date.
The response is immediate.
Kinsey: AHHHHHHHHHHH
Kinsey: I KNEW IT
Kinsey: What did you say???
I look at the door where Jay disappeared, then back at my phone.
Ally: I didn't say anything. He just... told me he was taking me out tomorrow and left.
Kinsey: That's so hot
Kinsey: The audacity
Kinsey: The confidence
Kinsey: I love him already
Ally: You're not helping
Kinsey: I'm not trying to help. I'm trying to be entertained.
Kinsey: And girl, you are DELIVERING
I drop my phone and press my palms against my eyes.
A date. Tomorrow night. With Jay Cross.
My phone buzzes again.
Kinsey: Wear the red dress
I drop my head back against the wall, eyes closing like maybe that’ll reset the universe.
Ally: I’m not going on a date with him.
Kinsey: Babe, he already decided
Kinsey: Just show up and look hot
I let the phone fall into my lap. No boundaries. No excuses. No pretending it didn’t happen.
Just me.
And Jay Cross.
Tomorrow.
At seven.
…yeah. I’m definitely in trouble.