“Conrad.”
Glancing down, I caught him shaping the syllables with his mouth, and I was tempted to tell him that my middle name was Rose, just to see him do it again. But I had to save some secrets for next time, or he might get bored. From there, I diverted the conversation to music because I couldn’t take more sex talk; I was on the verge of vibrating, and if the sparks popped any brighter between us, we’d burn his apartment down. Small comfort, but at least I knew why it wasn’t happening.
An hour later, he fell asleep in my lap, and fifteen minutes after, I dozed off, too. Later, the silence roused me, the absence of vibrations and cessation of music. Somehow we were tangled together, him on his back and me on his chest, though I didn’t remember shifting. He smelled incredible, so much that I surreptitiously rubbed my cheek against him, breathing in honey and shea butter along with the clean, cottony scent of his shirt.
My heart ached as I mustered the resolve to move. One breath, another, listening to his heartbeat, then inch by inch, I slid out of his arms, trying my damnedest not to rouse him. He stirred once, his hand tangling in my hair. I froze. It would kill me if he woke up and saw me leaving when I wanted so badly to stay.
But I can’t. I never can. When Sam wakes up, I can’t be here. Ty’s sacrificed so much for him. He’ll never change his mind about us. And I should probably be grateful for his common sense. Yet half-strangled yearning swept over me like a tidal wave, and I shivered with the force of it while Ty let his hand drop. Swallowing those feelings, I pressed a ghost of a kiss over his heart, and I rolled away, grabbed my shoes and purse and tiptoed to the door. I was a mouse creeping out of his apartment, though I did silently test the doorknob to make sure it locked behind me. No way to turn the dead bolt from this side, so that would have to do.
I let myself in upstairs and found the apartment completely trashed. To get to my room, I stepped around four people, two of whom weren’t wearing any pants. There was nobody in my bed, at least, and it looked as if Lauren had defended it before passing out in the closet. She was drinking more these days, but I didn’t know if I should mention it. Maybe she’d just tell me I was no fun. The last time I brought it up, she said, All you do is work, Nadia. Some of us want to live a little. Sighing, I went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth and then stumbled to bed, wrecked by the intensity of the night.
Yet despite gritty-eyed exhaustion, I couldn’t sleep. For half an hour, until the glowing numbers on my alarm clock read 4:30 a.m., I shifted and rolled, until I gave in to temptation. Feature by feature, I built Ty’s face in my mind’s eye, complete down to the tiniest detail like the faint cleft in his lower lip and the tiny, nearly imperceptible scar that bisected his left eyebrow. Once he was there with me, I dipped two fingers into my panties. One stroke, two, three, God, it was good, and I was still so slick. As the clock ticked over, I came in silence.
My whole body went limp, and I passed out a few seconds later.
The next morning, I woke in a panic, thinking I was late for class or work, then I fell back with a muffled groan. A glance at my phone told me it was just past eleven. Lauren propped herself on an elbow, looking as miserable as I’d ever seen. At some point, she must’ve crawled from the closet into bed.
“I can feel my heartbeat in my lips,” she whimpered.
“That can’t be good.” I knew to whisper.
Since I wasn’t hungover, I headed into the bathroom to wash my hands, and then I got her a cup of water and some ibuprofen. “You want toast?”
“Just let me die. You’ll have the room to yourself then.”
“We can’t afford the place without you,” I teased. “Plus...I love you too much. So what’ll it be, toast or crackers?”
“Crackers.”
I padded to the kitchen and was pleased to find Max cleaning. He’d also shooed out the floor surfers. “You weren’t kidding when you said you’d be ambitious once school started.”
“I noticed that you bugged out early last night. You okay?”
“Liar. You were banging Courtney up against your door when I left.”
He grinned. “Okay, so maybe I didn’t exactly notice. Lauren told me.”
“Yep, I’m good.” I opened the cupboard and grabbed a pack of saltines. “Have you seen Angus yet today?”
“Think he’s still in bed.”
As I nodded, I carried the breakfast of champions to Lauren. “Here, these should make you feel better.”
“You realize they’re made of flour and salt, not magic?” she asked.
“Don’t make that face, drunkie. You’re just mad because I’m not sharing your misery.”
A reluctant smile formed as she nibbled the cracker. “You may have a point. A tiny one.”
“Microscopic,” I said.
“Do you ever wish we were still in Sharon?” It was such a non sequitur that I turned on my way to the door, brows raised.
“Not really. But I miss my family.” That wasn’t the same thing.
Lauren’s expression shifted. “What do you think Rob’s doing night now?”
My brother didn’t rank high on my list of things to ponder on Sunday morning. But if he ran true to form... “Probably having brunch with our folks. Why?”
“Idle curiosity. I’ve been thinking about home lately, wondering what people are up to. Krista texted me the other day. We were talking about the old days.”
After a moment’s thought, I remembered her as a mutual friend who’d moved away before graduation, though I was bad at keeping in touch. “How’s she doing?”
“I dunno, we talked more about high school. Remember the party where Rob punched Kent Walker?”
“Not really,” I admitted. “Rest, I’m going to help Max with the fumigation.”
“Wait, he’s cleaning up his own mess?” She sat forward, then clutched her head. “I think hell has actually frozen.”
“He couldn’t be a pain in the ass forever.”
Lauren was still mumbling in wonder, saltines in hand, when I left the room. It took us three full hours to make the apartment look even remotely close to how it did when we moved in. Which wasn’t that long ago.
Angus got up just as we finished, and Max scowled at him. “Don’t even pretend you weren’t awake before now.”
I didn’t feel like refereeing, weird as it was for Max to complain about someone else slacking. So I said, “Nothing valuable broken, no stolen furniture and no vomit in my shoes. This went pretty well, huh?”
Max nodded. “But I think I’m done hosting for the semester. This shit is exhausting. Someone else can deal with the mess next time.”
“No argument from me,” I said.
By this point, I desperately needed
