“I love you, call me tomorrow.” My mom blows me a kiss.
I catch her kiss, flattening my palm against my chest. “Love you too, Momma.”
Staring into my dad’s gray eyes I say a simple, “Bye.”
“Bye, Son.”
I hang up and toss the phone on my bed.
“Fuck.” Scrubbing my hands over my face, I finally climb into bed.
Turning the TV on I grab my bag of chips to snack on. In no time my body gives into exhaustion and I pass out asleep.
Chapter Five
Rory
The pounding in my head can’t be normal.
It pulses in time with my heartbeat. A groan rips out of my throat and I squish my eyes even tighter closed. Beneath the warmth of a blanket I do an assessment, wiggling my toes, my fingers, all appendages seem to be intact and functioning. I guess that’s good.
Open your eyes, Aurora.
Reluctantly, I crack my eyes open. It’s dark in the room, and I look over finding blackout curtains across the window.
Only I didn’t hang any blackout curtains in my dorm.
Oh my God.
My head swishes down and I find myself in my bra and panties. The guy beside me is lying on his stomach, hugging a pillow as he snores softly. Not even the smooth muscular contours of his back can calm my racing heart from what I may or may not have done last night.
Things come back in flashes.
Dancing with Cole.
Laughing with Kenna and Li.
Joining Cole’s friends.
More shots. Food. Dancing. Drinks. Laughter.
Somehow, I ended up coming back to Cole’s townhouse. We made out for a while, I remember rocking against him, and then … nothing.
“Fuck,” I curse, climbing out of the bed.
I stumble around his room, collecting my clothes, well Kenna’s clothes. Shuffling into the denim skirt, I search for the flannel but can’t find it anywhere. Instead, I swipe a shirt that must be Cole’s slipping it over my head. It’s big, hanging longer than the skirt.
Stumbling out of his room, I accidentally close the door a little too loud.
I seriously need to empty my bladder, but right now I just want to get out of here, wherever here is, and get back to my dorm.
“No more drinking for you, Rory.”
Blinking, I hold a hand to my pounding head. I cannot throw up all over the hardwood floors. That would be beyond embarrassing.
Inhale. Exhale.
That’s better.
I start down the hall just as a door flies open.
“Cole, that you?”
Smack.
I collide with wet, hard, male flesh.
Both of our hands shoot out, steadying us before we fall into a pile on the floor.
I stumble back, looking the guy in the face, and holy hell if I thought Cole was hot he has nothing on this guy. Angular face, full lips, sharp nose, slanted eyes. He’s an Adonis, carved from stone. Something so perfect he should be in a museum for all to admire. He’s also very, very close to naked. The thick charcoal towel tied around his waist is barely hanging on to his toned body. His brown hair is wet from a shower sticking to his scalp.
That’s when my eyes meet gray ones.
Horror fills me, bile rising up my throat.
I know him, my brain screams, at the same time I also think, It can’t be.
But it is.
Mascen Wade in the flesh. My childhood friend, the one I never got to say goodbye to. The son of a famous drummer. I’ve seen his face sprinkled in tabloids from time to time, and I can’t believe I didn’t recognize him straight away, but I’m blaming my hungover state.
I mouth his name but no actual sound comes out. Recognition flares in his eyes but as quickly as it’s there it’s gone. It’s like shutters close over his eyes, his brow furrowing in anger.
He says something but my ears aren’t working from the surprise of standing in front of him again after all these years.
I’m not quite sure I’m awake yet. Maybe I’m dreaming. I’ve had a few dreams about him over the years, but…
“Why are you wearing my shirt?”
I look down at the large cotton shirt. Aldridge Baseball printed on the front with the mascot, a wolf.
“Y-Your shirt?” I stutter. “I found it in Cole’s room?” I don’t know why it comes out as a question. He has me unhinged, plus I’m still dealing with the effects of what I drank while he’s perfectly sober.
“It’s mine.” He bites out through clenched teeth, eyes full of hate. “Take it off.”
“What?” My face squishes in disbelief. “No. I can’t find my shirt and—”
His hands sit on his narrow waist, drawing my eyes to the low hanging towel and the one, two, three—eight pack he’s sporting. “It’s my fucking shirt and I don’t give my shit away to Cole’s hoes.”
I flinch. “I … I can’t walk out of here without a shirt.” It would be downright degrading to do the walk of shame without even a shirt. His eyes are dark, though, unmoving.
“Should’ve thought about that before you fucked him. Give me my goddamn shirt.” He opens and closes his hand, signaling me to hand it over.
I open my mouth to say his name, to beg, plead, or whatever, but promptly zip my lips. I won’t be degraded by some asshole even if he was my friend once upon a time. He’s expecting more of a fight, craving it, I can smell it in the air like a shark senses blood in the water. I remove the shirt, leaving me in just the lacy push-up bra. I won’t let him win.
“Here you go, asshole.” I thrust it out roughly, my hand practically punching his too hard stomach.
He lets out the smallest grunt of surprise, his big hands grabbing the shirt.
“I know you recognize me,” I seethe, leaning into him. His intoxicating scent of something citrus and woodsy threatens to make me dizzy. “You can pretend you don’t all you want, but I saw it in your eyes.”
His nostrils flare, his glower deepening.
“Nice seeing you again, Mascen,” I chirp, even though this is the furthest thing from nice, it’s downright humiliating.
And then, because I can’t fucking help myself since he wanted to humiliate me, I reach out as I pass him and yank the towel, letting it fall off his body.
I keep walking, not looking, and down the stairs I go.
When I reach the bottom I turn to see if he’s still there. Sure enough, he’s standing there in all his glory, naked as the day he was born, and I swallow thickly unable to take my eyes away from his half-hard impressive cock. I feel like I can barely breathe from this entire exchange.
“Eyes up here, Rory.”
I knew it.
I meet those gray eyes that always fascinated me so much as a child. “Only my friends call me Rory. You can call me Aurora.”
His smug ass smirk grows and he crosses muscular arms over his massive chest. He’s built, the kind of body that comes from only eating healthy things, never indulging in even a pizza, and lots of exercise.
I turn to let myself out, already bringing up Uber on my phone. I’m not looking forward to riding with a stranger in my bra and a short skirt, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
“See you later then, Princess,” I hear Mascen call from the top of the stairs.