A sob broke in my throat, and I wrapped a hand around his forearm, clinging to him as though he might disappear. I didn’t know how much time passed, but it was enough that eventually, clear thoughts trickled back in. And oh, what thoughts they were.
Just how big is his wingspan?
“Six feet five inches.” The answer rumbled right against my ear.
My eyes flew open. I tried to glance around, but he was so tightly wrapped around me it was impossible.
“Did I say that out loud?”
“Mm.” He agreed. “And all six feet five is yours.”
My stomach flipped. My heart started galloping again.
“I have to go,” I said, wiggling a little to get free.
He hugged me close a moment longer, and I forgot to fight because his whisper held me still. “Don’t be afraid of me, Mads. I won’t hurt you.”
I sagged back into him. Suddenly, the urge to cry was so strong my vision blurred with tears. “That’s what they all say,” I whispered, voice damp.
I thought he might shove away. Or disappear inside.
Instead, my feet left the sidewalk, and he carried me across the two-lane street, the gravel crunching under his feet when he hit the parking lot. My shoes didn’t touch the ground until we were beside my white Mercedes E-Class.
He remembers what I drive. It had been weeks since that one time he rode in my Mercedes. But he remembered.
“You gonna let me drive you home?” He was still wrapped around me from behind, his voice like an echo deep in my ear… reaching into my heart.
I closed my eyes so I wasn’t tempted to look at the reflection of us pressed so closely together in the window of the car. But I was tempted.
So. Damn. Tempted.
“No.” I denied him. Denied us both.
“Promise.”
“Promises are nothing but extreme lies.”
I felt him pause. His chin hit my shoulder, and my lower lip wobbled. “Promise you are calm enough to drive.”
“Hamlet Hall is like three miles from here.” Geez, he acted like I was driving across the state and not to my dorm.
“Promise me, Mads.”
“I can drive.”
“Call me when you get there.”
“No.”
“Text me.”
“No.”
“Then I’m driving you.”
My teeth sank into my lower lip. If he drove me, the inside of my little Mercedes would smell like him for days. I could never withstand it.
“I’ll text you,” I rushed out.
Shifting, one of his arms unwound from around me, and for the briefest of moments, it left me feeling bereft.
But then his pinky appeared in front of us. “Pinky swear.”
I laughed under my breath. “What?”
“Promises might be extreme lies, but pinky swears are legally binding.”
“No, they aren’t,” I argued.
“Yes, baby. They are.”
Inside me, my chest collapsed. I had to get out of there.
In desperation, I hooked my pinky around his wide one, not marveling at all at the size difference between us.
“If you don’t text, I will show up at your dorm.” Never before had a threat sounded so delicious.
I started to pull away, but he yanked me back. If I sank into him immediately, it was because he was warm and the autumn air was cold.
“I don’t like it when you avoid me, Mads.” The whisper clutched my heart.
“Let me go, Jamie.”
He let go.
I slid into my car, completely attuned to the way he stood right there as I locked the doors, put on my seat belt, and started the engine. He didn’t even back up when I put the car into drive.
Finally, I gave in. I was just not strong enough to keep my eyes off him. Lifting my chin, I stared through the tinted windows, our stares locking like the tint wasn’t even there.
He studied me as though he could see right through me, like every secret I harbored would soon be his. And even though I felt so transparent and utterly scared, I couldn’t rip my eyes away.
It wasn’t until he broke the spell, lifting his stare and rapping his knuckles on the roof of the car, that I was finally able to drive away.
3
Jamie
* * *
She promised to text, and she kept that promise with two words.
I’m home.
That’s all I got. I should have been pissed off. I wanted to be. But those two lame-ass words somehow felt like a hard-won victory. The second they appeared on my screen, the familiar rush of that hell yeah, winning feeling hit me in the chest.
I took a screenshot. I mean, it could be my new favorite text.
And now I had her number. After saving it to my contacts, I texted back.
She ignored me.
So I sent her a selfie.
She ignored that too.
Total burn.
Lucky for me, I couldn’t feel the pain of said burn because the chemistry between us at the pizzeria had already singed off all my skin. Mads was definitely into me. But she didn’t want to be.
And I wanted to know why.
It was practically a hum beneath my skin, a whisper in my veins. It bothered me a whole hell of a lot that Mads seemed afraid of me. I mean, I knew I was a big guy, but scary? Sure, I could be intimidating when I wanted to be, but never with her.
Madison was a whole box of secrets just waiting to be found out. And the idea that anyone else would do it made me hella ragey.
Rory was already in our usual booth when part of the team stepped into Shirley’s. She was sort of like the Elite mascot now—always around, and no one questioned that she belonged with us. Perks of being Ryan’s girl, ya know.
Her red head perked up the second she saw us, and Ryan smiled, breaking free from the group to make a beeline for her. Before he could make it far, I held out my arm, clotheslining him.
His sneakers screeched lightly against the floor, full offense written on his face as he glanced down to where I held him back.
“A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do,” I told him, patting him once on the chest before hot-footing it to the booth ahead of him.
Rory was full-on amused when I slid into the booth beside her, casually draping my arm across her shoulders. “Camera girl, we need to talk.”
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Ryan glowered from beside the table.
“Bro. I need to borrow your girl for a few.”
His arms crossed over his broad chest. “No.”
Rory giggled.
I poked her in the side, and she squirmed, giggling louder.
“I will rip off your arm and beat you with it,” Ryan warned, making Rory gasp.
Completely unbothered, I said, “Come on, Ryan. What’s the point of your best bro having a girl if I can’t use her sometimes?”
A low rumble drifted over the table as his hand closed around the shirt stretched over my chest. He yanked, pulling me away from his girl, but not hard enough that my ass left the seat. “I don’t share,” he intoned, voice low.
I widened my eyes. “Ew, bro. No.” I smacked at his hand to dislodge where he was totally wrinkling my hoodie. Now I was gonna be walking around looking half-washed. “I just meant I want to talk to her. You know better than that.”