Chapter 6
ALANNA
The first thing I noticed when I woke up was that the taste of Chance was still on my lips.
My pulse raced at the memory of his hands on my hips and his mouth against mine, his tongue sweeping inside.
How the world had narrowed until there was nothing but the scrape of stubble and the low sound he’d made in my throat.
And the way he’d used his fingers to make me come.
My first orgasm—explosive, mind-blowing, and over far too soon.
Reality slammed back in when he tore himself away from me. Jaxton’s call had Chance out the door before my heartbeat even slowed. Chance, not Drift. That brought a tiny smile to my lips since I finally had permission to use his real name out loud like I’d been doing in my head all this time.
I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling. It was far too early to start dissecting my life, but I couldn’t get him out of my head. Not now that I knew he felt the chemistry between us, too.
I’d slept better than I had in years, but my dreams had been filled with him.
Fantasies of what might have happened if he hadn’t stormed out of my apartment.
If he’d stayed and taken me to the same bed I slept in.
Except in my dreams, there had been no rest—only pleasure. And lots of orgasms. Mine and his.
Only he hadn’t stayed, and I was still a virgin this morning.
Twisting around with a frustrated sigh, I reached for my phone, hoping he’d at least texted. But there was nothing from him.
My pushy research partner, however, had no trouble using my number.
Ethan
Hope you got home safe.
Ethan
We still need to talk through a new schedule. Call me when you wake up.
I dropped the phone on the mattress next to me and buried my head in my pillow.
The worst part wasn’t that Chance hadn’t reached out; it was that I foolishly expected him to. I scrubbed my hands over my face with a groan.
My whole body still hummed, caught between disbelief and desire. No man had ever looked at me the way he had right before he kissed me. Like he’d been starving for years, and I was the first taste of something real.
But then he’d shut it down. Completely.
I should’ve been angry. Mostly, I just felt raw. As though one more touch might’ve unraveled me completely, and he’d known it.
“Get it together,” I muttered to the ceiling.
I had a project to finish, a scary classmate to handle, and a future to build that didn’t involve being anyone’s mistake—least of all my brother’s best friend.
Still, when I finally rolled out of bed and my feet hit the floor, my knees were weak for all the wrong reasons. But caffeine and sugar could fix almost anything.
“I deserve a treat. Something with frosting.”
A cinnamon roll from the bakery in town sounded like the kind of therapy I could get behind. I threw on jeans and a soft T-shirt, ran a brush through my hair, and grabbed my keys from the hook by the door.
The morning sun was bright when I stepped outside. Exactly what I needed.
Until I reached the parking lot and froze.
My car wasn’t in my spot.
For one wild second, my brain refused to make sense of what I was seeing. Then panic slammed into me. “Someone stole my car.”
I spun in a slow circle, scanning the lot. Nothing. My beat-up little sedan might have been worth more in nostalgia than dollars, but it was mine.
I turned back toward my spot and finally noticed a speck of white tucked beneath the wiper blade of the sleek black SUV parked where my car should be. It looked brand new.
I blinked once, then again. “No. Absolutely not. There’s no way.”
The thing probably cost more than my entire degree.
I approached cautiously, half expecting an alarm to start screaming at me for daring to breathe near it. Nothing happened.
My heart pounding, I tugged the slip of paper free.
You’re not dying in that piece of crap.
Keys are on your kitchen table.
My mouth dropped open. “He did not.”
But deep down, I already knew he had.
My pulse still hadn’t slowed by the time I reached my apartment door. I fumbled with my keys, muttering about how Chance apparently hadn’t needed them when he let himself in last night.
The second I stepped inside, my gaze locked on the kitchen table.
There they were.
A set of keys, resting exactly where he said they’d be. A shiny black key fob with a dealership tag still attached, looped through a braided leather keychain.
My heart thudded hard enough to hurt. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
I snatched them up and stalked over to the windows to make sure they were still locked. Same with my bedroom. The deadbolt to the door had been flipped before I headed outside.
Nothing was out of place. But somehow Chance had gotten in, left a luxury SUV in my parking spot, and vanished again without me hearing a sound.
Maybe I’d slept through it.
Heat crept up my neck as I considered why I’d been out cold. Exhausted in every possible way after he’d made me come, even so many hours later. The thought made my cheeks burn hotter.
“Fantastic,” I muttered. “I passed out so hard from an orgasm that I missed a full-blown breaking and entering.”
Half of me wanted to admire his audacity. The other part wanted to kick him in the balls for making the decision without me.
I turned the fob over in my hand, tracing the embossed logo with my thumb. I had no clue how he’d managed to buy me a brand-new vehicle so quickly. Or why he’d done it when he hadn’t even bothered to call or text after what had happened between us.
He’d crossed every boundary imaginable, but I couldn’t ignore what this meant. Buying me a car wasn’t a casual gesture. It was a statement. One that said I wasn’t on my own anymore, whether I’d asked for help or not. Even without my brother here.
Relief pulsed through the irritation, stubborn and unwelcome. If he was willing to go this far to make sure I drove something safe, maybe he wouldn’t avoid me anymore. And if we spent time together, maybe he’d give in to temptation again.
But that didn’t mean he got a free pass for disappearing last night. Or for deciding he knew what was best for me without asking.
I set the keys back on the table, pulled my phone from my pocket, and hit his contact before I could talk myself out of it.
The line rang three times. Then a low, rough voice came through the speaker. “You okay?”
That was it. No greeting or explanation. Just that gravel-and-grit tone that hit somewhere deep in my chest. And my panties, dammit.
“You broke into my apartment!” I snapped.
Silence crackled on the other end before he answered, completely unbothered by my accusation. “I’m making sure you’re safe, whether you like it or not.”
Then the line went dead.
I stared at my phone, stunned, waiting for the screen to light up again. It didn’t.
We hadn’t been disconnected. He had hung up on me.
My pulse pounded so hard it felt like my heartbeat had moved to my throat. I was furious, but under the heat of my reaction, something else stirred. An ache that had nothing to do with anger.
“Infuriating. Arrogant.” I glared at the blank screen. “And the hottest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
With a frustrated sound that landed somewhere between a growl and a sigh, I tossed the phone onto the couch and stalked to the window.
The SUV sat there, gleaming in the sunlight like a smug promise I hadn’t asked for—and couldn’t ignore.
Despite myself, the corners of my mouth twitched.
“I was supposed to be building a new life here,” I muttered, crossing my arms. “Not losing my mind over a man who makes breaking and entering seem romantic.”