I open my mouth to answer and Nancy clears her throat—loudly.
Right. Privacy.
I smile at the other girl and step away from the counter just as my phone vibrates in my pocket. When I pull it out, there’s a text from Maddie.
Maddie: Where are you? Please tell me you’re not at the rental office putting in a transfer request.
The girl knows me too well.
Me: They won’t let us move. We’re stuck with the brute squad. *swearing emoji*
Maddie: Sorry, not sorry. It’s way too hot to even think about moving again.
She’s not wrong, but the knowledge does little to improve my bad mood as I exit the rental office and step back out in the sweltering August heat.
Maddie: What’s the big deal? So he saw your vibrator. Half the women on campus have them.
Maddie really doesn’t get it.
Because you haven’t told her.
Yeah, well, who could blame me for not bragging about the worst night of my life?
I stalk across the parking lot and climb into my Explorer. Hot leather burns the backs of my thighs as I yank the door shut and start the ignition. The SUV rumbles to life and I slump over the steering wheel, silently cursing the universe, karma, and DJ-freaking-Parker.
He didn’t even recognize you.
Freshman year, the realization would’ve wrecked me.
Hell, itdidwreck me.
But I’m not that girl anymore. The one so desperate for acceptance. For something of her own.
After years of living in my sister’s shadow—of people lamenting that I’d never move as gracefully as Gabby or tumble as beautifully—I’d been ready to spread my wings and fly at Waverly. Which is why I said yes when the hot guy in my American History class invited me to a party on Greek Row.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
I’d been crushing on Parker for weeks. Imagining what it would be like to run my fingers through his tousled brown hair. Daydreaming about those full, pouty lips locked on mine. Wondering what it would be like to lose myself in those brooding hazel eyes.
It didn’t matter that I hardly knew him.
Or that the only time we’d spoken was when he asked to borrow my notes.
I went to that party full of hope and anticipation, butterflies swarming in my stomach.
Parker was already buzzed when I arrived, and he seemed surprised to see me.
That probably should’ve been my first clue the night wasn’t going to end well, but I was determined to roll with it, so I joined him at the beer pong table. By the end of the night, we were both tipsy and when he invited me back to his dorm, I was all in.
It was a short walk, but the night was cool and the crunch of leaves echoed with each footfall. Parker was the perfect gentleman, wrapping me in his sweater and folding me into his warm embrace, one arm slung over my shoulders as we made our way across campus. He smelled like citrus and sandalwood and by the time we got back to his place, I was swooning like a virgin.
My stomach twists at the memory.
Better a fool than a tool.
Maybe. Maybe not.
Parker and I had sex, but there was nothing swoonworthy about it.
