Kitabı oku: «Wait for You»

Contents

Title Page

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

About the Author

Also by

Pre-order Trust in Me

Pre-order Be With Me

Buy Scorching Summer Reads

Copyright

About the Publisher

Chapter 1

There were two things in life that scared the ever-loving crap out of me. Waking up in the middle of the night and discovering a ghost with its transparent face shoved in mine was one of them. Not likely to occur, but still pretty damn freaky to think about. The second thing was walking into a crowded classroom late.

I absolutely loathed being late.

I hated for people to turn and stare, which they always did when you entered a classroom a minute after class started.

That was why I had obsessively plotted the distance between my apartment in University Heights and the designated parking lot for commuter students over the weekend on Google. And I actually drove it twice on Sunday to make sure Google wasn’t leading me astray.

One point two miles to be exact.

Five minutes in the car.

I even left my apartment fifteen minutes early so I would arrive ten minutes before my 9:10 class began.

What I didn’t plan for was the mile-long traffic backup at the stop sign, because God forbid there be an actual light in the historical town, or the fact there was absolutely no parking left on campus. I had to park at the train station adjacent to the campus, wasting precious time digging up quarters for the meter.

‘If you insist on moving halfway across the country, at least stay in one of the dorms. They do have dorms there, don’t they?’ My mom’s voice filtered through my thoughts as I stopped in front of the Robert Byrd Science Building, out of breath from racing up the steepest, most inconvenient hill in history.

Of course I hadn’t chosen to stay in a dorm, because I knew at some point, my parents would randomly show up and they would start judging and start talking, and I’d rather punt-kick myself in the face than subject an innocent bystander to that. Instead, I tapped into my well-earned blood money and leased a two-bedroom apartment next to campus.

Mr. and Mrs. Morgansten had hated that.

And that had made me extremely happy.

But now I was sort of regretting my little act of rebellion, because as I hurried out of the humid heat of a late August morning and into the air-conditioned brick building, it was already eleven minutes past nine and my astronomy class was on the second floor. And why in the hell did I choose astronomy?

Maybe because the idea of sitting through another biology class made me want to hurl? Yep. That was it.

Racing up the wide staircase, I barreled through the double doors and smacked right into a brick wall.

Stumbling backward, I flailed my arms like a cracked-out crossing guard. My overpacked messenger bag slipped, pulling me to one side. My hair flew in front of my face, a sheet of auburn that obscured everything as I teetered dangerously.

Oh dear God, I was going down. There was no stopping it. Visions of broken necks danced in my head. This was going to suck so—

Something strong and hard went around my waist, stopping my free fall. My bag hit the floor, spilling overpriced books and pens across the shiny floor. My pens! My glorious pens rolled everywhere. A second later I was pressed against the wall.

The wall was strangely warm.

The wall chuckled.

‘Whoa,’ a deep voice said. ‘You okay, sweetheart?’

The wall was so not a wall. It was a guy. My heart stopped, and for a frightening second, pressure clamped down on my chest and I couldn’t move or think. I was thrown back five years. Stuck. Couldn’t move. Air punched from my lungs in a painful rush as tingles spread up the back of my neck. Every muscle locked up.

‘Hey …’ The voice softened, edged with concern. ‘Are you okay?’

I forced myself to take a deep breath—to just breathe. I needed to breathe. Air in. Air out. I had practiced this over and over for five years. I wasn’t fourteen anymore. I wasn’t there. I was here, halfway across the country.

Two fingers pressed under my chin, forcing my head up. Startling, brilliant blue eyes framed with thick black lashes fixed on mine. A blue so vibrant and electric, and such a stark contrast against the black pupils, I wondered if the color was real.

And then it hit me.

A guy was holding me. A guy had never held me. I didn’t count that one time, because that time didn’t count for shit, and I was pressed against him, thigh to thigh, my chest to his. Like we were dancing. My senses fried as I inhaled the light scent of cologne. Wow. It smelled good and expensive, like his …

Anger suddenly rushed through me, a sweet and familiar thing, pushing away the old panic and confusion. I latched on to it desperately and found my voice. ‘Let. Go. Of. Me.’

Blue Eyes immediately dropped his arm. Unprepared for the sudden loss of support, I swayed to the side, catching myself before I tripped over my bag. Breathing like I’d just run a mile, I pushed the thick strands of hair out of my face and finally got a good look at Blue Eyes.

Sweet baby Jesus, Blue Eyes was …

He was gorgeous in all the ways that made girls do stupid things. He was tall, a good head or two taller than me, and broad at the shoulders, but tapered at the waist. An athlete’s body—like a swimmer’s. Wavy black hair toppled over his forehead, brushing matching eyebrows. Broad cheekbones and wide, expressive lips completed the package created for girls to drool over. And with those sapphire-colored eyes, holy moly …

Who thought a place named Shepherdstown would be hiding someone who looked like this?

And I ran into him. Literally. Nice. ‘I’m sorry. I was in a hurry to get to class. I’m late and …’

His lips curved up at the corners as he knelt. He started gathering up my stuff, and for a brief moment I felt like crying. I could feel tears building in my throat. I was really late now; no way could I walk into that class late, especially on the first day. Fail.

Dipping down, I let my hair fall forward and shield my face as I started grabbing up my pens. ‘You don’t have to help me.’

‘It’s no problem.’ He picked up a slip of paper and then glanced up. ‘Astronomy 101? I’m heading that way, too.’

Great. For the whole semester I’d have to see the guy I nearly killed in the hallway. ‘You’re late,’ I said lamely. ‘I really am sorry.’

With all my books and pens back in my bag, he stood as he handed it back to me. ‘It’s okay.’ That crooked grin spread, revealing a dimple in his left cheek, but nothing on the right side. ‘I’m used to having girls throw themselves at me.’

I blinked, thinking I hadn’t heard the blue-eyed babe right, because surely he hadn’t said something as lame as that.

He had, and he wasn’t done. ‘Trying to jump on my back is new, though. Kind of liked it.’

Feeling my cheeks burn, I snapped out of it. ‘I wasn’t trying to jump on your back or throw myself at you.’

‘You weren’t?’ The lopsided grin remained. ‘Well, that’s a shame. If so, it would have made this the best first day of class in history.’

I didn’t know what to say as I clutched the heavy bag to my chest. Guys hadn’t flirted with me back at home. Most of them hadn’t dared to look in my direction in high school and the very few that did, well, they hadn’t been flirting.

Blue Eyes’s gaze dropped to the slip of paper in his hand. ‘Avery Morgansten?’

My heart jumped. ‘How do you know my name?’

He cocked his head to the side as the smile inched wider. ‘It’s on your schedule.’

‘Oh.’ I pushed the wavy strands of hair back from my hot face. He handed my schedule back, and I took it, slipping it into my bag. A whole lot of awkward descended as I fumbled with my strap.

‘My name is Cameron Hamilton,’ Blue Eyes said. ‘But everyone calls me Cam.’

Cam. I rolled the name around, liking it. ‘Thank you again, Cam.’

He bent over and picked up a black backpack I hadn’t noticed. Several locks of dark hair fell over his forehead and as he straightened, he brushed them away. ‘Well, let’s make our grand entrance.’

My feet were rooted to the spot where I stood as he turned and strolled the couple of feet to the closed door to room 205. He reached for the handle, looking over his shoulder, waiting.

I couldn’t do it. It didn’t have anything to do with the fact that I had plowed into what was possibly the sexiest guy on campus. I couldn’t walk into the class and have everybody turn and stare. I’d had enough of being the center of attention everywhere I went for the last five years. Sweat broke out and dotted my forehead. My stomach tightened as I took a step back, away from the classroom and Cam.

He turned, brows knitted as a curious expression settled on his striking face. ‘You’re going in the wrong direction, sweetheart.’

I’d been going in the wrong direction half my life, it seemed. ‘I can’t.’

‘Can’t what?’ He took a step toward me.

And I bolted. I actually spun around and ran like I was in a race for the last cup of coffee in the world. As I made it to those damn double doors, I heard him call out my name, but I kept going.

My face was flaming as I hurried down the stairs. I was out of breath as I burst out of the science building. My legs kept moving until I sat down on a bench outside of the adjacent library. The early-morning sun seemed too bright as I lifted my head and squeezed my eyes shut.

Geez.

What a way to make a first impression in a new city, new school … new life. I moved more than a thousand miles to start over and I had already mucked it up in a matter of minutes.

Chapter 2

I had two options at this point: let go and move on from my disastrous attempt to attend my first class of my college career or go home, climb into bed, and pull the covers over my head. I so wanted to indulge in the second option.

If running and hiding wasn’t my MO, I would’ve never survived high school.

Reaching down, I checked the wide, silver bracelet on my left wrist, making sure it was in place. I almost didn’t survive high school.

Mom and Dad had pitched a fit when I’d informed them of my plans to attend a university clear across the country. If it had been Harvard, Yale, or Sweet Briar, they would have been all about it. But a non-Ivy-League university? For shame. They just didn’t understand. They never did. There was no way in holy hell I was going to attend the college they had gone to or enroll where half the country club back home forced their kids to attend.

I wanted to go where I wouldn’t see a familiar sneer or hear the whispers that still dripped from people’s lips like acid. Where people hadn’t heard the story or whatever version of the truth had been repeated over and over again, until sometimes even I questioned what had really happened Halloween night five years ago.

None of them mattered here, though. No one knew me. No one suspected anything. And no one knew what the bracelet hid on summer days when a long-sleeve shirt wouldn’t work.

Coming here had been my decision and it had been the right thing to do.

My parents had threatened to cut off my trust fund, which I’d found hilarious. I had my own money—money they had no control over once I turned eighteen. Money I had earned. To them, I had let them down yet again, but if I stayed in Texas or around any of those people, I would be dead.

Glancing at the time on my cell phone, I pushed to my feet and slung my bag over my shoulder. At least I wouldn’t be late to my history class.

History was in the social sciences building, at the bottom of the hill I had just raced up. I cut through the parking lot behind the Byrd building and crossed the congested street. All around me students walked in groups of two or more; many obviously knew each other. Instead of feeling left out, I felt a precious sense of freedom in walking to class without being recognized.

Pushing my epic fail of a morning out of the way, I entered Whitehall and took the first set of steps to the right. The hallway upstairs was crowded with students waiting for the rooms to empty. I threaded through the laughing groups, dodging some who still looked half-asleep. Finding an empty spot across from my classroom, I sat down against the wall and crossed my legs. I ran my hands over my jeans, excited to be starting history. Most people would be bored to tears in History 101, but it was my first class in my major.

And if I got lucky, five years from now, I’d be working in a silent and cool museum or library, cataloging ancient texts or artifacts. Not the most glamorous of professions, but it would be perfect for me.

Better than what I used to want to be, which was a professional dancer in New York.

Yet another thing Mom had to be disappointed over. All that money thrown at ballet lessons since I was old enough to walk was wasted after I turned fourteen.

I did miss it though, the calming effect dancing had brought on. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it ever again.

‘Girl, what are you doing sitting on the floor?’

My head jerked up and a grin broke out across my face when I saw the wide, bright smile stretching across the caramel tone of Jacob Massey’s boyishly handsome face. We’d buddied up during freshman orientation last week and he was in my next class, plus art on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I’d immediately warmed to his outgoing personality.

I glanced at the expensive-looking jeans he wore, recognizing the tailored cut. ‘It’s comfortable down here. You should join me.’

‘Hell, no. I don’t want my fine ass to be tainted by sitting on that floor.’ He propped a hip against the wall beside me and grinned. ‘Wait. What are you doing here already? I thought you had a class at nine.’

‘You remember that?’ We’d exchanged schedules for, like, a half a second last week.

He winked. ‘I have a frightening memory for things that are virtually useless to me.’

I laughed. ‘Good to know.’

‘So did you skip already? You bad, bad girl.’

Wincing, I shook my head. ‘Yes, but I was running late, and I hate going into a classroom after class starts, so I guess my first day will be Wednesday if I don’t drop it before then.’

‘Drop it? Girl, don’t be stupid. Astronomy is a cake class. I would’ve taken it if it hadn’t filled up in two seconds flat when all the damn upperclassmen took the class.’

‘Well, you didn’t nearly kill a guy in a hallway racing to class—a guy who happens to also be in said cake class.’

‘What?’ His dark eyes widened with interest and he started to kneel down. Someone caught his attention. ‘Hold on a sec, Avery.’ Then he started waving his arm and jumping. ‘Yo! Brittany. Get your ass over here!’

A short blond girl jerked to a stop in the middle of the hall and turned toward us, her cheeks flushing, but she smiled as she saw Jacob hopping around. She cut her way over, stopping in front of us.

‘Brittany, this is Avery.’ Jacob beamed. ‘Avery, this is Brittany. Say hi.’

‘Hi,’ Brittany said, giving me a little wave.

I waved back. ‘Hey.’

‘Avery is about to tell us how she almost killed a guy in a hallway. Thought you’d like to hear the story too.’

I winced, but the spark of interest in Brittany’s brown eyes was kind of funny as she looked at me. ‘Do tell,’ she said, smiling.

‘Well, I really didn’t almost kill someone,’ I said, sighing. ‘But it was close and it was so, so embarrassing.’

‘Embarrassing stories are the best,’ Jacob threw out, kneeling down.

Brittany laughed. ‘That is true.’

‘Spill it, sister.’

I tucked my hair back and lowered my voice so the whole hall didn’t revel in my humiliation. ‘I was running late to astronomy and I sort of ran through the double doors on the second floor. I wasn’t watching where I was going and I plowed into this poor guy in the hallway.’

‘Yikes.’ A sympathetic look crossed Brittany’s face.

‘Yeah, and I mean, I almost knocked him over. I dropped my stuff. Books and pens flew everywhere. It was pretty epic.’

Jacob’s eyes gleamed with humor. ‘Was he hot?’

‘What?’

‘Was he hot?’ he repeated as he smoothed a hand through his cropped hair. ‘’Cuz if he was hot, you should’ve used it to your benefit. That could’ve become the best icebreaker in history. Like, you two could fall madly in love and you get to tell everyone how you plowed him before he actually plowed you.’

‘Oh, my God.’ I felt a familiar heat cross my cheeks. ‘Yeah, he was really good-looking.’

‘Oh no,’ said Brittany, who seemed to be the only other person to recognize how a hot guy made the situation all the more embarrassing. I guess you needed a vagina to understand that, because Jacob looked even more thrilled by the news.

‘So tell me what this good-looking man candy looked like? This is a need-to-know kind of detail.’

Part of me didn’t want to say, because thinking about Cam made me about a thousand different levels of uncomfortable. ‘Uh … well, he was really tall and nicely built, I guess.’

‘How do you know he was nicely built? Did you feel him up, too?’

I laughed as Brittany shook her head. ‘I seriously ran into him, Jacob. And he caught me. I wasn’t feeling him up on purpose, but he seemed like he had a good body.’ I shrugged. ‘Anyway, he had dark, wavy hair. Longer than yours, kind of messy but in a—’

‘Damn, girl, if you say messy in a I-don’t-care-I’m-a-sexy-beast kind of way, I want to run into this guy.’

Brittany giggled. ‘Love hair like that.’

I wondered if my face looked as hot as it felt. ‘Yeah, it was like that. He was really gorgeous and his eyes were so blue they looked—’

‘Wait,’ Brittany gasped, her own eyes widening. ‘Were his eyes, like, so blue they almost looked fake? And did he smell, like, really good? I know that sounds creepy and weird, but just answer the question.’

That was kind of creepy and weird and really funny. ‘Yes to both.’

‘Holy shit on a shoe.’ Brittany let out a loud laugh. ‘Did you get his name?’

I was starting to get worried, because Jacob also had this dawning expression on his face. ‘Yeah, why?’

Brittany elbowed Jacob, and then she lowered her voice. ‘Was it Cameron Hamilton?’

My jaw hit my lap.

‘It was!’ Brittany’s shoulders shook. ‘You ran into Cameron Hamilton?’

Jacob wasn’t smiling. He was just staring at me in … awe? ‘I am so incredibly envious of you right now. I would give my left testicle to run into Cameron Hamilton.’

I half laughed, half choked. ‘Wow. That’s pretty serious.’

‘Cameron Hamilton is serious, Avery. You wouldn’t know. You’re not from around here,’ Jacob said.

‘You’re a freshman, too. How do you know about him?’ I asked, because Cam looked too old to be a freshman. He had to at least be a junior or senior.

‘Everyone on campus knows him,’ he replied.

‘You’ve been on campus for less than a week!’

Jacob grinned. ‘I get around.’

I laughed, shaking my head. ‘I don’t get it. Yeah, he’s … hot, but so what?’

‘I went to school with Cameron,’ Brittany explained, glancing over her shoulder. ‘I mean, he was two years older than me, but he was, like, the shit in high school. Everyone wanted to be around him or with him. It’s pretty much the same here.’

Curiosity rose in spite of how what Brittany said reminded me of someone else. ‘So you guys are from around here?’

‘No. We’re from outside of the Morgantown–Fort Hill area. I don’t know why he chose this school instead of WVU, but I did because I wanted to get out of town versus being stuck with the same old people.’

I could understand that.

‘Anyway, Cameron is known around campus.’ Jacob smacked his hands together. ‘He lives off campus and supposedly throws the best parties ever and—’

‘He had a reputation in high school,’ Brittany cut in. ‘A reputation that was well earned. Don’t get me wrong. Cameron has always been a really cool guy. Very nice and funny, but he put the “or” in man-whore back then. Seems to have settled down a bit, but a leopard and their spots …’

‘Okay.’ I fiddled with my bracelet. ‘Good to know, but it doesn’t really matter. I mean, I ran into him in a hallway. That’s the extent of my knowledge of Cam.’

‘Cam?’ Brittany blinked.

‘Yeah?’ I shoved to my feet and grabbed my bag. Doors would open soon.

Brittany’s brows knitted. ‘People who he doesn’t know call him Cameron. Only his friends call him Cam.’

‘Oh.’ I frowned. ‘He told me people called him Cam, so I assumed that’s what people called him.’

Brittany didn’t say anything, and I honestly didn’t see what the big deal was. Cam/Cameron/Whatever was just being polite after I ran him over. The fact that he was a reformed party playboy meant nothing to me other than that I should stay far, far away from him.

Doors swung open and students spilled into the hallway. Our little group waited until it cleared before we headed inside, picking three seats in the back, with Jacob in between Brittany and me. As I pulled out my massive, could-knock-someone-out-if-hit-with-it, five-subject notebook, Jacob grabbed my arm.

Mischief and total mayhem filled his gaze. ‘You cannot drop astronomy. To get through this semester, I must live vicariously through you and hear about Cam at least three days a week.’

I laughed softly. ‘I’m not going to drop the class’—even though I sort of wanted to—’but I doubt I’m going to have anything to tell you. It’s not like we’re even going to talk again.’

Jacob let go of my arm and sat back, eyeing me. ‘Famous last words, Avery.’

The rest of the day wasn’t nearly as eventful as my morning had been, much to my pleasure. No more innocent hot boys almost knocked over or other humiliating incidents. Although I had to relive the experience all over again at lunch for Jacob’s entertainment, I was happy that he and Brittany had a break around the same time I did. I’d really been planning on spending most of my day being a loner, so it was nice to actually talk to people … my own age.

Being social was like riding a bike, I guess.

And besides Jacob’s unneeded advice, which entailed me purposely running into Cam the next time I saw him, there hadn’t been any awkward moments. By the end of the day, I honestly had pretty much forgotten about Cam.

Before I left campus, I headed down to the financial building to pick up an application for work-study. I didn’t need the money, but I needed the time suckage to keep my mind occupied. I had a full load—eighteen credit hours—but I would have a crap ton of free time. A job on campus seemed like the right thing to go for, but there were no spots open. My name went on an extended waiting list.

The campus was really beautiful in a quaint, peaceful sort of way. It was nothing like the sprawling campuses of huge universities. Nestled between the Potomac River and the tiny, historical town of Shepherdstown, it was like something you’d see on a postcard. Large buildings with steeples mixed in among more modern structures. Trees everywhere. Fresh, clean air and everything you needed within walking distance. I could actually walk on nicer days or at least park on West Campus to avoid paying the meter.

After giving my information for the waiting list, I hoofed it back toward my car, enjoying the warm breeze. Unlike this morning when I’d been running late, I got a chance to check out the houses on the way to the train station. Three houses, side by side, had porches full of college-aged guys. Most likely this school’s version of fraternity row.

One guy looked up, beer in hand. He smiled, but then turned as a football flew out from the open door, smacking him in the back. Curses exploded.

Definitely fraternity row.

My spine stiffened as I picked up my pace, hurrying past the houses. I hit an intersection, stepped out, and nearly got slammed by a silver truck—one of those big ones, maybe a Tundra—as it sped onto the narrow road I needed to cross. My heart jumped as the truck slammed its brakes, blocking my path.

I took a step back onto the curb, confused. Was the driver going to yell at me?

The tinted passenger window rolled down, and I about fell flat on my face.

Cameron Hamilton grinned at me from behind the wheel, baseball cap on, turned backward. Wisps of dark hair curled up under the band. And he was shirtless—totally shirtless. And from what I could see of him, just his chest, it was a mighty fine chest. Pecs—the guy had pecs. And a tattoo. On the right side of his chest, a sunburst, flames trailing back over his shoulders in vibrant hues of red and orange.

‘Avery Morgansten, we meet again.’

He was the last person I wanted to see. I had the shittiest luck known to man. ‘Cameron Hamilton … hi.’

He leaned over, dropping an arm over the steering wheel. Correction. He also had some really nice biceps. ‘We have to stop meeting like this.’

And that was the truest thing ever spoken. I needed to stop staring at his biceps … and chest … and tattoo. Never thought the sun could be so … sexy. Wow. This was awkward.

‘You running into me, me almost running over you?’ Cam elaborated. ‘It’s like we’re a catastrophe waiting to happen.’

I had no idea what to say to that. My mouth was dry, thoughts scattered.

‘Where are you heading?’

‘My car,’ I forced out. ‘I’m about to run out of time.’ Not necessarily true, because I had been generous with the quarters so I wouldn’t end up with a parking ticket, but he didn’t need to know that. ‘So …’

‘Well, hop in, sweetheart. I can give you a ride.’

Blood drained from my face and rushed to other parts of my body in a really odd and confusing way. ‘No. It’s okay. I’m right up the hill. No need at all.’

The grin spread up on the side, revealing that one dimple. ‘It’s no problem. It’s the least I can do after almost running you over.’

‘Thank you, but—’

‘Yo! Cam!’ Beer Guy jumped off the porch and jogged down the sidewalk, passing me a quick look. ‘What you up to, man?’

Saved by the frat boy.

Cam’s gaze didn’t veer from me, but his grin started to slip. ‘Nothing, Kevin, just trying to have a conversation.’

Giving Cam a quick wave, I hurried around Kevin and the front of the truck. I didn’t look back, but I could feel him watching. Over the years, knowing when someone was staring at you when you weren’t looking had become a talent of mine.

I forced myself not to run to the train station, because running away in front of the same guy twice in one day was beyond the acceptable level of weirdness. Even for me.

I didn’t realize I’d been holding my breath until I was behind the wheel of my car and had the engine humming.

Jesus.

I dropped my head against the steering wheel and groaned. A catastrophe waiting to happen? Yeah, sounded about right.

Chapter 3

Sitting through a three-hour-long sociology class Tuesday night hadn’t been as bad as I thought it would be, but by the time class let out, I was starving. Before I headed back to my apartment, I stopped by Sheetz—a convenience store/gas station we didn’t have in Texas—and got an MTO. A made-to-order salad, heavy on the fried chicken strips and ranch dressing.

Mmm. Healthy.

My apartment building parking lot was packed with cars, some even in the nearby field that butted up to West Campus. It hadn’t been like this when I’d left for my evening class and I wondered what was going on. I managed to find a parking spot all the way near the main road and as I turned off the ignition, my cell rattled in the cup holder.

I grinned when I saw it was a text from Jacob. We’d exchanged numbers earlier in class since he lived in one of the dorms.

Art sucks was all his text said.

Laughing, I sent him a quick text back about our homework, which was to identify what painting belonged to what era. Thank God for Google, because that was how I was completing the assignment.

Gathering up my bag and food, I climbed out of my car. The air was sticky and I lifted my hair off my neck, wishing I had pulled it up into a ponytail. The scent of autumn was in the air, though, and I was eager to see cooler weather. Maybe even snow in the winter. I headed across the brightly lit parking lot, toward the center cluster of apartments. I was on the top floor—the fifth. It seemed like a lot of students lived here and most hadn’t really started to arrive until today, but as soon as I stepped up on the sidewalk, I knew where all the cars were coming from.

Music thumped from somewhere inside my apartment building. A lot of lights were on, and I could pick up pieces of conversation as I headed up the stairs. On the fifth floor, I found the culprit. The apartment across the hall, two doors down, was throwing a party. The door was cracked open, and light and music spilled into the open hallway.

A little bit of jealousy wiggled inside my chest as I unlocked my door. All the laughter, the noise, and the music sounded fun. It all seemed so normal, like something I should be doing, but parties …

Parties didn’t end well for me.

Closing my door behind me, I kicked off my shoes and dropped my bag on the couch. Furnishing this apartment had put a dent in my account, but I’d be here for four years and I figured I could sell everything when I left or take it with me.

And it was all my stuff. That meant a lot to me.

The party raged on across the hall, long after I finished my not-so-healthy salad, changed into sleep shorts and a long-sleeve shirt, and finished my art homework. It was just after midnight when I gave up on reading my English assignment and started back toward my bedroom.

But I stopped in the hallway, my toes curling into the carpet.

A burst of muffled laughter rang out and I knew the door of the party apartment must’ve been open, because it sounded louder than before. I was frozen, worrying my lower lip. What if I opened the door and recognized someone from class? It was obviously a college kid throwing the party. Maybe I would know the person? So what if I did? Wasn’t like I was going to join in when I was braless, wearing my jammies, and rocking the messiest ponytail known to man.

I turned and flipped on the bathroom light, staring at my reflection. Scrubbed of all makeup, the freckles on the bridge of my nose stood way out and my face seemed more flushed than normal. I leaned against the sink my mom would’ve laughed at and pressed my face closer to the mirror.

With the exception of my reddish-brown hair, which came from my father, I was the spitting image of my mom—straight nose, rounded chin, and high cheekbones; with all the cosmetic help she’d had over the years to stay looking fresh, we looked more like sisters than mother and daughter.

Footsteps echoed out in the hall. More laughter.

I made a face at my reflection and pushed away from the mirror. Back in the hall, I told myself to go to sleep, but I found myself walking toward my front door. I had no idea what I was doing or why I was being so nosy, but everything sounded … warm and fun out there and everything in here was cold and boring.

Warm and fun?

I rolled my eyes. God, I sounded lame. It was cold in here because I had the central air cranked like a mother.

But I was at the door and there was nothing stopping me. Yanking it open, I peered out into the stairwell, seeing two heads disappear down the steps. The door to the party was still open, and I stood there, torn. This wasn’t home. No one was going to send me a scathing look or yell obscenities at me. If anything, they’d probably think I was some kind of freak just standing there, half out my door, all bug-eyed, and letting all the cold air out.

‘Bring Raphael back!’ exclaimed a familiar voice and a deep laugh that had my stomach dropping in stunned disbelief. ‘You fucktard!’

I recognized that voice! Oh my God …

It couldn’t be. I hadn’t seen the big-ass silver truck outside, but then again, there were so many cars and it wasn’t like I was searching for his truck.

The door swung all the way open, and I froze as a guy stumbled out, laughing as he set a tortoise—what the fuck?—on the floor. The thing stuck its head out, looked around, and then disappeared into its shell.

A second later, the guy who’d put the tortoise outside was pulled back into the apartment and Cam appeared in the doorway in all his shirtless glory. He reached down and scooped up the little green guy. ‘Sorry, Raphael. My friends are complete, fucking …’ He looked up.

I tried to jerk back inside, but it was too late.

Cam saw me.

‘Assholes …’ He did a double take. ‘What the … ?’

Would dive-bombing into my apartment seem weird? Yes—yes it would. So I went with a very lame, ‘Hey …’

Cam blinked several times, as if he sought to clear his vision. ‘Avery Morgansten? This is becoming a habit.’

‘Yeah.’ I forced myself to swallow. ‘It is.’

‘Do you live here or are you visiting?’

I cleared my throat as the tortoise’s legs started moving like it was trying to wiggle away. ‘I … I live here.’

‘No shit?’ Those baby blues widened and he swaggered around the railing. I couldn’t help but notice how his gym shorts hung way low on his narrow hips. Or his stomach. It was ripped, taking six-pack into eight-pack territory. ‘You really live here?’

I forced my gaze up and got stuck on the sun tattoo. ‘Yes. I really live here.’

‘This is … I don’t even know.’ He laughed again, and I met his stare. ‘Really crazy.’

‘Why?’ Besides the fact he was standing in my apartment hallway, shirtless and barefoot, holding a tortoise named Raphael?

‘I live here.’

I gaped at him. The whole half-naked thing sort of made sense now and I guess so did the tortoise, but it couldn’t be true. Way too many coincidences. ‘You’re joking, right?’

‘No. I’ve been living here for a while—like a couple of years with my roommate. You know, the fucktard who put poor Raphael outside.’

‘Hey!’ the guy yelled from inside their apartment. ‘I have a name. It’s Señor Fucktard!’

Cam laughed. ‘Anyway, did you move in over the weekend?’

I found myself nodding.

‘Makes sense. I was back home, visiting the fam.’ He shifted Raphael to his other hand, cradling the squirming thing to his chest. ‘Well, hell …’

I was gripping the door so hard my knuckles ached. ‘That’s … um, your tortoise?’

‘Yeah.’ A half grin appeared as he lifted the little guy. ‘Raphael, meet Avery.’

I gave the tortoise a little wave, feeling stupid afterward for doing so. It just stuck its head back in its green-and-brown shell. ‘That’s a very interesting pet.’

‘And those are very interesting shorts.’ His gaze dropped. ‘What are they?’ He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing, and I stiffened. ‘Pizza slices?’

Heat swamped my cheeks. ‘They’re ice cream cones.’

‘Huh. I like them.’ Straightening, his gaze drifted up me slowly, leaving an unfamiliar wake of heat behind. ‘A lot.’

I immediately let go of the door and crossed my arms over my chest. One corner of his lips tipped up. My eyes narrowed. ‘Thanks. That means a lot to me.’

‘It should. They have my seal of approval.’ He bit down on his lower lip as his lashes lifted. Those eyes pierced mine. ‘I need to get Raphael back in his little habitat before he pees on my hand, which he’s bound to do, and that sucks.’

My lips twitched into a small grin. ‘I can imagine.’

‘So, you should come over. The guys are about to leave, but I’m sure they’ll be around for a little longer. You can meet them.’ He inched closer and lowered his voice. ‘They’re no way as interesting as I am, but they’re not bad.’

I glanced over his shoulder, part of me wanting one thing and the other part wanting nothing to do with any of this. That part won out. ‘Thanks, but I was heading to bed.’

‘This early?’

‘It has to be after midnight.’

His grin was spreading. ‘That’s still early.’

‘Maybe to you.’

‘Are you sure?’ he asked. ‘I have cookies.’

‘Cookies?’ My brows rose.

‘Yeah, and I made them. I’m quite the baker.’

For some reason, I couldn’t picture that. ‘You baked cookies?’

‘I bake a lot of things, and I’m sure you’re dying to know all about those things. But tonight, it was chocolate and walnut cookies. They are the shit, if I do say so myself.’

‘As great as that sounds, I’m going to have to pass.’

‘Maybe later then?’

‘Maybe.’ Not likely. I stepped back, reaching for the door. ‘Well, it’s good seeing you again, Cameron.’

‘Cam,’ he corrected. ‘And hey, we didn’t almost run each other over. Look at us, changing up the pattern.’

‘That’s a good thing.’ I was back in my apartment and he was still in front of my door. ‘You should get back before Raphael pees on your hand.’

‘Would be worth it,’ he replied.

My brows knitted. ‘Why?’

He didn’t answer that, but he did start backing up. ‘If you change your mind, I’ll be up for a while.’

‘I’m not going to. Good night, Cam.’

His eyes widened only a fraction of inch, but his grin slipped into a full smile, and my stomach sort of flopped, because his smile was wow. ‘See you tomorrow.’

‘Tomorrow?’

‘Astronomy class? Or are you skipping again?’

My cheeks heated all over again. God, I had almost forgotten about running away in front of him like a total idiot. ‘No.’ I sighed. ‘I’ll be there.’

‘Great.’ He started backing up again. ‘Good night, Avery.’

Ducking behind the door, I closed it and then locked it. I swore I heard him chuckle, but I had to be crazy.

I stood there a few moments and then I whipped around and raced back to my bedroom. Diving under the covers, I rolled onto my stomach and shoved my face into a pillow.

Sleep. Just go to sleep.

Cam lived across the hall?

You need to get up early. Go to sleep.

How in the world was that possible? He was everywhere I went.

Go to sleep.

And why did he have a pet tortoise? And did he seriously name it after the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles? Because that was kind of funny.

Morning’s going to come soon.

Does he only wear a shirt during class? Oh my God, he seriously lived across the hall. Jacob was going to flip … and probably move in. That would be fun. I really liked Jacob, but I had a feeling he’d borrow my clothes.

Go the fuck to sleep.

I couldn’t believe the hot dude I ran into and then ran away from lived across the hall. I don’t even know why I cared. It didn’t matter. I wasn’t interested in guys, or girls, but he was extraordinarily hot … and kind of funny … and kind of charming.

No. No. No. Stop thinking about him, because it’s pointless and hopeless, so go to sleep.

Did I eat all that salad? Man, those cookies sound good right about now.

‘Ugh!’ I groaned into the pillow.

This crap went on for about an hour before I gave up and threw myself out of bed. Out in the living room, I didn’t hear any music or noise coming from Cam’s apartment. He was probably sleeping soundly while I was up obsessing over cookies and chicken tenders and ripped stomachs.

Stomping into the extra bedroom that had become more of a library/office, I powered on my laptop and brought up my e-mail. There was one unread e-mail in my in-box, from my cousin. I deleted that without even opening it. On the left toolbar, I saw I had a few unread e-mails in my junk folder. Bored out of my mind, I clicked on the link and scanned the prescription drug offers, the ‘I have money in a foreign account’ e-mails, and the notice that Bath & Body Works was having a sale. My eyes narrowed on the subject line of the one e-mail, which had come in at around eleven the previous night.

It read AVERY MORGANSTEN and was from an e-mail address I didn’t recognize.

Well, that was strange, because my e-mail wasn’t set up under my real name, so it would be unlikely that it was a phishing scam. Only my parents and cousin had my e-mail address because, even though they had my telephone number, I’d rather have them contact me that way instead of calling. No one else had it.

My finger hovered over the mouse pad. Unease rose as knots formed in my stomach. Tucking my legs against my chest, I told myself not to open it, to just delete it—but I clicked because I had to. It was like looking at a bad car accident alongside the road. You knew you shouldn’t, but you did.

I immediately wished I hadn’t. The knots in my stomach tightened and a lump formed in the back of my throat. Nauseous, I pushed away from the desk and slammed the laptop shut. Standing in the middle of the room, I sucked in a deep breath and curled my hands into fists.

It was just two lines.

That was all.

Two lines erased thousands of miles.

Two lines ruined my entire night.

Two lines found me all the way in a little college town in West Virginia.

You’re nothing but a liar, Avery Morgansten. You’ll get yours in the end.

Chapter 4

I dragged myself into astronomy class ten minutes early and picked what I believed to be an inconspicuous seat in the middle of the amphitheater-style classroom. A few other students were already there, sitting up front. Yawning, I scooted down in my seat and rubbed my eyes. The gallon of coffee I drank this morning hadn’t done a thing for me, given that I only got an hour of sleep.

Two little sentences.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I rested my head on my forearm. I didn’t want to think about the e-mail or the fact that I had reopened my laptop and gone into my trash folder to see what my cousin had said. His e-mail had just been one giant bitch fest on how I was letting my parents down and how his were worried sick and afraid I was going to put Mom and Dad through another episode. You need to come home, he had written. It is the right thing to do. It was the right thing for them, and while my cousin sided with my parents and, oh, about ninety-nine percent of the town, I doubted he had been behind the other e-mail.

The e-mail address was unrecognizable to me, and while there were a lot of people that it could’ve come from, I really didn’t know who it was. It couldn’t be him because even he wasn’t stupid enough to try to contact me.

Or was he?

A shudder rolled down my spine. What if it had been Blaine? What if he found out where I’d moved to? My family wouldn’t have told him. Then again, they could’ve told his parents because they were, after all, country club pals. I was going to murder them if they had. Seriously. Catch the next flight to Texas and murder them, because the whole point of coming here was to get away from—

‘Morning, sweetheart,’ came a deep voice.

I jerked my head up and twisted around. Surprised into speechlessness, I watched Cam slide into the empty seat next to me. I must have been a little slow on the uptake, because I knew I should’ve said the seat was taken or tell him to move, but all I could do was stare.

He settled back, looking at me sideways. ‘You look a little rough this morning.’

And he looked remarkably refreshed for someone who had been partying last night. Hair damp and all over the place, eyes bright. ‘Thanks.’

‘You’re welcome. Glad to see you made it to class this time.’ He paused, tilting his head back and kicking his feet up on the seat in front of us, his eyes on me. ‘Though I kind of missed the whole running-into-each-other thing. Provided a lot of excitement.’

‘I don’t miss that,’ I admitted, bending over and rummaging through my bag for my notebook. ‘That was really embarrassing.’

‘It shouldn’t have been.’

‘Easy for you to say. You’re the one who got plowed. I was doing the plowing.’

Cam’s mouth opened. Oh my God, had I really just said that? I had. Flushing to the roots of my hair, I flipped open my notebook.

‘Raphael is doing great, by the way.’

A relieved grin snuck out. ‘That’s good to hear. Did he pee on your hand?’

‘No, but it was a close call. Brought you something.’

‘Turtle pee?’

Cam laughed and shook his head as he reached into his backpack. ‘Sorry to let you down, but no.’ He pulled out papers stapled together. ‘It’s a syllabus. I know. Thrilling shit right here, but figured since you didn’t come to class on Monday, you’d need one, so I got it from the professor.’

‘Thank you.’ I took the papers from him, somewhat shocked by the act. ‘That was really thoughtful.’

‘Well, prepare yourself. I am all kinds of thoughtful this week. I brought you something else.’

As he rooted around in his backpack, I bit down on the edge of my pen and took the moment to openly gawk at him without him knowing. It really had been a long time since I had held a conversation with a member of the opposite sex who wasn’t related to me, but from all the people-watching I’d done over the years, I thought I was handling this well. Besides the plowing comment, I was sort of proud of myself.

Cam pulled out a napkin and unfolded it with long fingers. ‘Cookie for you. Cookie for me.’

Removing the pen from my mouth, I shook my head. ‘You didn’t have to do that.’

‘It’s just a cookie, sweetheart.’

I shook my head again, because it just didn’t make sense to me. Cam didn’t make sense to me. Hell, most people didn’t make sense to me.

He looked up through those impossibly long lashes and sighed. Tearing the napkin in half, he folded up one of the cookies and then dropped it in my lap. ‘I know they say you shouldn’t take candy from strangers, but it’s a cookie and not candy and technically, I’m not a stranger.’

I swallowed.

Cam took a bite of his cookie and closed his eyes. A deep sound emanated from his throat—a growl of pleasure. My heart jumped and my cheeks heated even more as I stared at him. He made the sound again, and my mouth dropped open. A row down, a girl turned in her seat, her eyes clouded over.

‘Is it really that good?’ I asked, glancing down at the cookie in my lap.

‘Oh, yeah, this is the shit. I told you that last night. Be better if I had some milk.’ He took another bite. ‘Mmm, milk.’

I dared another peek at him and he looked like he was on the verge of having an orgasm or something.

One eye opened. ‘It’s the combination of walnut and chocolate. You mix that together and it’s like an explosion of sex in your mouth, but not as messy. The only thing better would be those teeny tiny Reese’s Cups. When the dough is warm, you plop those suckers in … Anyway, you just need to try it. Take a small bite.’

Oh, what the hell? It was just a cookie, not a crack pipe. I was being stupid. I unfolded the napkin and took a bite. The cookie practically melted in my mouth.

‘Good?’ Cam said. ‘Right?’

I took another bite and nodded.

‘Well, I have a whole ton of them at home.’ He stretched as he rolled up his napkin. ‘Just saying.’

Finishing off the cookie, I had to admit that it was a pretty damn good cookie. Wiping off my fingers, I started to roll up the napkin, but Cam reached over and took it from me. He twisted a bit in his seat, causing his knee to brush my leg.

‘Crumb,’ he said.

‘What?’

A slight grin appeared on his face and then he reached out, without the napkin, and before I knew what he was doing, he smoothed his thumb over my bottom lip. Every single muscle in my body locked up and became painfully tense. My eyes widened and the air caught in my throat. The touch was slight, barely anything, but I felt it in several parts of my body.

‘Got it.’ His grin spread.

My lip still tingled. That was all I could think about. I didn’t move, not until the door at the front of the classroom opened and the strangest man I’d ever seen rolled in. Dressed head to toe in olive-green polyester, the man had thick, curly hair that went in every which direction, peppered black and gray. His glasses were huge, resting on the tip of his nose. As he crossed the main stage, I noticed he was wearing a pair of checkered Vans … that matched his bow tie.

Cam chuckled softly. ‘Professor Drage is a very … unique man.’

‘I can see,’ I murmured.

Professor Drage had an accent I couldn’t quite place, but based on his olive skin tone, I was going with Mediterranean or Middle Eastern. He launched right into the topic—no roll call or warning. I scrambled to catch up to his introduction to the field of astronomy and units of measurement while Cam scooted even farther down in his seat and opened his notebook. His pen was making quick, short strokes over the paper, but he wasn’t taking notes.

He was drawing.

Cocking my head to the side, I tried to focus on what the hell an astronomical unit meant, which was some crazy number I couldn’t even begin to remember. Turned out to be the average distance at which the Earth orbits the sun. That was important because astronomical units were used to determine most distances in our solar system, but I found myself glancing at Cam’s notebook.

What the hell was he drawing?

‘Now, most of you kiddos don’t care about astronomical units or have never really heard of them,’ Professor Drage went on, passing the length of the stage. ‘What you are familiar with is the term “light-year.” Although, I doubt any of you really, truly understands what a light-year is.’

I was pretty sure Cam was drawing Bigfoot.

The lecture went on until Professor Drage suddenly changed gears at the end, catching me and everyone else besides Cam off guard, and started passing out star maps. ‘I know today is only Wednesday, but here is your first assignment for the weekend. Skies are supposed to be clear as a baby’s bottom on Saturday.’

‘Clear as a baby’s bottom?’ I muttered.

Cam chuckled.

‘I want you to find the Corona Borealis in the sky—the actual real, honest to goodness, night sky,’ Professor Drage explained, smiling as if he said something funny, but we all stared at him. ‘You won’t need a telescope. Use your eyes or glasses or contacts or whatever. You can view it either Friday or Saturday night, but the weather is looking sketchy on Friday, so choose wisely.’

‘Wait,’ someone from up front said. ‘How do you use this map?’

Cam handed me a map that had been passed down our row, along with several grid sheets.

Professor Drage stopped in front of the class. ‘You look at it.’

I bit back a laugh.

The student huffed. ‘I get that, but do we hold it up to the sky or something?’

‘Sure. You could do that. Or you could just look at each of the constellations, see what they look like and then use your own eyes and brains to find it in the sky.’ The professor paused. ‘Or use Google. I want all of you to start to get familiar with stargazing. You’re going to be doing a lot of that this semester and you’ll appreciate doing it now when it’s warm. So get with your partner and pick out a time. The grid will be turned back in to me on Monday. That’s all for the day. Good luck and may the force of the universe be with you today.’

Several students laughed, but my stomach dropped out of my butt.

‘Partner?’ I said, voice low as I frantically looked around the classroom. Almost everyone was turned in their seats, talking to another person. ‘When did we pick partners?’

‘On Monday,’ Cam replied, closing his notebook and shoving it into his backpack. ‘You weren’t here.’

My heart thumped in my chest as I scooted to the edge of the seat. Shit. Professor Drage had already bounced from the room. Half the students were already out the door.

‘Avery?’

How in the hell was I supposed to get a partner now? I really shouldn’t have run like a little baby on Monday. This was all my fault.

‘Avery.’

Where was the professor’s office? I was going to have to find the dude and explain I didn’t have a partner. I bet his office smelled weird, too, like mothballs.

‘Avery.’

‘What?’ I snapped, turning to Cam. Why was he still sitting here staring at me?

His brows rose. ‘We’re partners.’

‘Huh?’

‘We. Are. Partners,’ he repeated, and then sighed. ‘Apparently, Drage had the class pick their partners right at the beginning of class on Monday. I walked in afterward and at the end he told me to partner with anyone who joined the class on Wednesday or I’d be partnerless. And since I don’t like the idea of being partnerless, you and I are partners.’

I stared at him. ‘We have a choice to do this on our own?’

‘Yeah, but who wants to go out staring at the sky at night by themselves?’ He stood and slung his backpack over his shoulder as he started down the row. ‘Anyway, I know a perfect place we can do our assignment. Has to be Saturday, because I have plans Friday.’

‘Wait.’ I stood, rushing after him. ‘I do.’

‘You have plans on Saturday?’ He frowned. ‘Well, I might—’

‘No. I don’t have plans on Saturday, but we don’t have to be partners,’ I explained. ‘I can do this by myself.’

He stopped so suddenly in front of the doors that I nearly had a repeat of Monday. ‘Why would you want to do all the assignments—and if you look at his class outline, there are a lot—all by yourself?’

‘Well, I don’t really want to.’ I shifted my weight from one foot to the next. ‘But you don’t have to be my partner. I mean, you don’t owe me or anything.’

‘I don’t get what you’re saying.’ Cam tilted his head to the side.

‘What I’m saying is that …’ I trailed off. What the hell was I saying? The problem was I just didn’t get him—any of him. He didn’t know me. I didn’t know him and yet he was so … so friendly. The next words just came out of my mouth. ‘Why are you being so nice to me?’

A brow rose. ‘Is that a serious question?’

‘Yes.’

He stared at me a moment. ‘All right, I guess I’m just a nice guy. And you’re obviously new—a freshman. You seemed to be a little out of it on Monday and then you ran off, wouldn’t even come into class, and I—’

‘I don’t want your pity.’ I was horrified. He was being nice to me because he thought I was a freshman freak. Oh God, that was …

Cam frowned, and I mean really frowned. ‘You don’t have my pity, Avery. I’m just saying you seemed out of it on Monday and I figured we’d just be partners.’ He stopped and his eyes narrowed. ‘I can see that you don’t believe me. Maybe it was the cookie? Well, you refused to taste my cookies last night and, honestly, I was going to eat the other cookie, but you looked so tired and sad sitting there, I figured you needed the cookie more than I did.’

I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, but there was a distinct gleam of amusement in his eyes.

‘And you’re pretty,’ he added.

I blinked. ‘What?’

That frown had faded as he opened the door, ushering me out of the class and into the hall. ‘Do not tell me you don’t know you’re pretty. If so, I’m about to lose all faith in mankind. You don’t want to be responsible for that.’

‘I know I’m pretty—I mean, that’s not what I meant.’ God, I sounded vain. I shook my head. ‘I don’t think I’m ugly. That’s what—’

‘Good. Now we’ve cleared that up.’ Tugging on my bag, he steered me toward the stairwell. ‘Watch the door. It can be tricky.’

I ignored that. ‘What does the whole pretty comment have to do with anything?’

‘You asked why I’m so nice to you. It’s mutually beneficial.’

It sank in, and I stopped on the stair above him. ‘You’re nice to me because you think I’m pretty?’

‘And because you have brown eyes. I’m a sucker for big old brown eyes.’ He laughed. ‘I’m a shallow, shallow boy. Hey, it helps that you’re pretty. It brings out the nice guy in me. Makes me want to share my cookies with you.’

I stared at him. ‘So if I was ugly, you wouldn’t be nice to me?’

Cam pivoted around, facing me. Even a whole step below, he was taller than me. ‘I’d still be nice to you if you were ugly.’

‘Okay.’

A wicked grin slipped over his full lips. He bent his head down and whispered, ‘I just wouldn’t offer you any cookies.’

I folded my arms and tried to ignore the close proximity of our faces. ‘I’m beginning to think cookies is a code word for something else.’

‘Maybe it is.’ He tugged on my bag again as he took a confident step back, forcing me down another step. ‘And just think about it. If cookies is a code word, whatever it symbolizes, it’s been in your mouth, sweetheart.’

Part of me was slightly disturbed by that, and the other part? A laugh bubbled up my throat and came out, sounding a bit hoarse. ‘You are really …’

‘Amazing? Awesome?’ He paused, brows raised. ‘Astonishing?’

‘I was going to go with bizarre.’

‘Well, hell, if I had feelings that might actually hurt.’

I grinned, falling into the easy banter with him. ‘I guess it’s a good thing that you don’t have feelings then, huh?’