Chapter 10
WEST
I want nothing more than for the floor to open up and swallow me whole as I scroll through my text exchange with my mystery texter.
I don’t remember a lot about last night, not after Damon dragged me out of that party like a kid who broke curfew, but my text logs have filled in the blanks for me.
Just like last time, I texted him first, and I’m the one who kept the conversation going. I also told him I’m bi and that he turns me on with zero prompting from him, and I can’t even blame the beers I chugged.
Alcohol isn’t a truth serum for me like it is for a lot of people. Instead of getting more talkative and completely losing my filter when I drink, I get quieter because it’s one of the few times my head gets quiet.
But that didn’t happen last night. I have no idea why.
Whoever I’ve been talking to goes to Silvercrest. He lives on the same campus as me, and according to him, we know each other. He could literally be anyone, and my first instinct was to drunk text him and spill my guts when I have no idea who he is or what he wants from me.
I pause scrolling and reread a portion of the conversation for what feels like the tenth time.
Unknown: I’m not a good person
Unknown: but I do have something in common with you
West: what?
Unknown: you want to get fucked, right?
West: yeah
Unknown: well good news because I want to fuck you
Something deep inside me clenches, and my entire body flushes hot.
Did he say that because he was fucking with me and trying to get in my head? Or maybe he actually wants me.
My dick thickens, and I shift around in my seat a bit.
What the actual fuck is wrong with me? Nothing about this situation should be turning me on, but here I am, half hard because some random guy might want to fuck me.
I pause on a different part of the conversation and chew my lip as I stare at the photo I sent him.
It’s beyond tame as far as sexting goes, and there’s nothing in it that can identify me, but it’s the fact that I sent it to him at all that’s the insane part, not the photo itself.
My memories of this part of the night aren’t the clearest, but I remember how I felt when he told me to send it to him, even if I don’t fully remember actually doing it.
It might have only been a text request, but there was something so final and commanding about his words that I obeyed without thinking, and it didn’t even occur to me that I shouldn’t have done it until after I’d already sent it.
So now one of my classmates knows I’m bi, has my texts as proof, and they also have a photo of me holding my junk after telling them that thinking about them was making me hard. And I have no idea who they are or why they’re doing any of this.
Fuck my fucking life.
Ant slides into the chair next to mine. “Someone had a rough night.”
I hastily exit out of my texts and hide my phone under the table attached to my seat in a move that’s not at all suspicious.
“Is it that obvious?” I ask.
“Yes.” He puts a takeaway coffee cup on the corner of my desk. “This might help.”
“What’s that?”
“Coffee.”
“Coffee?” I repeat like a dumbass.
“Yeah,” he says with a smile that makes my stomach wobble. “Three milk and two sugar, right?”
I nod dumbly. He knows my coffee order?
“Did you eat lunch?” he asks and unzips his bag.
I shake my head, a weird sensation moving through me as I clutch the coffee with two hands and the heat seeps into my palms.
“What about breakfast?”
“Yeah.” I take a sip of the coffee. It’s still hot, and exactly how I like it. “Grabbed something on my way to class this morning.”
“That’s good.” He pulls a wrapped breakfast sandwich and a small container of mixed fruit from his bag and puts them on my desk.
“Are those for me?” I ask tentatively.
He nods and pulls a can of cold brew out of his bag. “Figured you might need them after last night.”
“Were you there?” I don’t remember seeing him at the party, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t there.
He nods and takes a long drink from his coffee.
My eyes immediately drop to his throat, and I watch the muscles work as he swallows.
“So you saw me get dragged out of there like a toddler.” I tear my gaze from his throat before he can catch me creeping on him. “Awesome.” I take another sip of the coffee, the warm liquid heating me from the inside.
“It happens to the best of us.” He stretches his long legs out in front of him, and I instinctively check him out.
Ant looks gorgeous any day of the week, but the black leather motorcycle jacket and boots he’s wearing with a pair of dark wash jeans and a black tee elevate him from hot to god tier, and I quickly avert my gaze from his thick legs when I feel my dick stirring.
Nope. Now is definitely not the time to be popping wood.
“Still good for tonight?” he asks, his voice low and doing that raspy thing I like way too much.
“Tonight? Oh, right. The project.” I smile ruefully. “Not sure I’m going to be very useful tonight.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because I need to end my engagement tonight.”
Ant slowly lowers his drink, his incredible eyes locked on mine. His stare is intense and heavy, and it makes me want to squirm in my seat, but at the same time, it’s weirdly calming. “You are?”
I nod.
“What happened?” he asks, lowering his voice as he leans closer, and I have to remind my sex-starved body that he’s doing it to give me privacy from prying ears and not to flirt with me.
“She cheated.” I run my finger over the rim of my coffee cup. “Before the break.”
“When did you find out?”
“A few days ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Is it weird that I’m not?” I glance around to make sure no one around us is listening.
“What do you mean?” he asks, leaning even closer like he’s also trying to make sure no one can hear us.
“I was at first, but now that it’s been a few days, it feels kind of inevitable,” I say, not sure why I’m talking at all but unable to stop now that I’ve started.
“Things haven’t been great between us for a while,” I admit.
“I figured it was just a rough patch or the honeymoon phase ending or something else we could get through. I didn’t expect her to cheat on me, but I’m not as devastated about it as I should be. ”
“Why do you think that is?”
I shrug.
“I think you know,” he says, his voice almost a low purr. “Why do you think you weren’t devastated?”
“Because I already knew it was over, I just didn’t want to admit it,” I answer reflexively.
“How about we make a deal,” he says. “I’ll be in my room at eight tonight. If you want some company or if you’re up for working on the project, come over. If not, don’t. No pressure.”
“Really?” I take another sip of my coffee, and I can already feel myself perking up a bit. “You wouldn’t mind?”
“I wouldn’t have offered if I minded.”
“But…”
“But?” he prompts when I just stare at him like a moron.
“I’ll probably be a mess.”
The corner of his mouth ticks up in a grin. “I don’t mind messy.”
Heat rushes to my face, and I drop my eyes to the coffee still clutched in my hands. “Thanks,” I mumble and make the mistake of looking back up at him.
“Anytime, partner.” He shoots me a wink, but it’s the smirk on his full lips that makes my stomach clench.
I’m saved from having to answer when the door swings open and Professor Morris strides into the room, and I pick up the breakfast sandwich Ant brought me while Professor Morris goes to the desk and unpacks his briefcase.
It’s from a café that’s close to Romeo House, and I gingerly peel back some of the wrapping, then lift the top of the oversized English muffin. Inside it is a slice of Canadian bacon, a slice of marble cheese, and a poached egg.
It’s the sandwich I always order from there.
I flick my gaze to Anthony. He knows my breakfast order? How?
He catches me looking at him and gives me another of those smirk-smiles that are going to be the death of me.
Turning back to the front of class, I take a bite of my sandwich and try to focus on Professor Morris. I just need to get through this class, then I can freak out and overthink everything that just happened in the last ten minutes.
It’s like I’m walking to my own execution as I trudge down the hall of Belmont House, and I feel physically ill as I knock on McKenna’s door.
There’s a long pause, then the lock flips, and the door slowly opens.
“Hey.” She steps aside so I can come in.
“Hey,” I say as she closes the door. “Is Bella around?” I nod to her roommate’s side of the room.
She shakes her head.
“We need to talk,” I say after a pause, not sure how else to start the conversation.
“We do?” Her tone is innocent, but her expression is resigned. “What about?”
“Can we sit?” I don’t want to have this talk standing in front of her door.
She nods, and we head over to the small sitting area in the middle of the room and perch on the couch.
“What do you want to talk about?” she asks as she looks at her manicure.
“I know what happened at the Baxter party,” I say bluntly. Might as well get right to it.
Her cheeks color and she stops examining her nails, but she still doesn’t look at me. “What do you mean?”
“Kenna…”
“Nothing happened at the party,” she says stiffly. “And whoever told you something happened is lying to you.”
“Is the video I saw lying to me too?”
Her gaze snaps to mine, and by her wide-eyed expression, she has no idea there’s a video of her transgression.
“Why?” I ask softly.
Her eyes fill with tears. “I don’t know.”
“Do you regret it?”
She nods, her dark beach waves swinging around her shoulders.
“Did you sleep with him?” I ask, even though I’m not sure I want to know the answer.
She shakes her head, and a single tear slides down her cheek.
I’ve known McKenna since we started at Silvercrest, so I’m well aware she can cry on command and has no problem turning on the waterworks to get what she wants. But I also know when she’s genuinely upset by something, and this isn’t her trying to weasel her way out of things or manipulate me.
She’s not just sorry she got caught; she’s sorry it happened at all.