The feel of him leaking out of my ass with every step.
Thesoundof him.
The way he kissed me as if he already knew I was his to ruin. And yeah, he ruined me a little last night.
I keep replaying the way his voice dipped when he told me to be a good boy. The way his hands moved over my skin like he’d done it a thousand times before.
And I let him.
Worse—I liked it. I wanted it. I still want it.
Fuck.
I swipe my keycard and slip back into the dorm building. Everything’s quiet this early—only a few people moving around, none of them paying me any attention. I take the stairs two at a time, hoodie up, head low.
By the time I open the door to my room, Peter’s just rolling over in bed. His hair’s a tangled mess, and he’s squinting at me through one open eye.
“You didn’t come back last night,” he mumbles, voice still heavy with sleep. “You get lucky or something?”
I freeze halfway through stepping inside.
He yawns and adds, “Was it that girl from psych? The one with the glasses and the notebook that’s always color-coded? Honestly, good for you if it was—she’s hot in that, like, sexy librarian way.”
I blink at him.
Then shake my head, forcing out a weak laugh. “Yeah. Something like that.”
Peter groans and flops back on his pillow. “Man, Iknewit. You were weird yesterday, all twitchy and half-zoned out. That’s classicI’m about to get laidenergy.”
I roll my eyes and toss my phone on the desk. “Well, good to know I get all ‘twitchy’ when I’m trying to be subtle.”
“Dude, you give off twitchy all the time.”
I grunt and kick off my shoes, grabbing my towel and heading toward the bathroom. I need a shower. A long one. Cold, probably. One that might reset my fucking brain.
Behind me, Peter calls out, “Hey, if you ever wanna double date or something, let me know! You know,hetero solidarity!What with Daniel, Eli, the Grinch, and Logan always hanging around. I feel like we’re out numbered now, man.”
I nearly trip over my own feet.
I manage a noise that sounds like a laugh and a cough had a baby and then shut the bathroom door behind me before I say something I’ll regret.
Because Peter doesn’t know. He can’t know that he just sounded just like my father would making one of his stupid jokes that aren’t very funny. It’s just another one of my reasons to keep it quiet.
The second the bathroom door clicks shut behind me, I brace my hands on the sink and stare into the mirror.
I look like shit.
Hair wild. Eyes tired. Hoodie wrinkled. And underneath all of that? The same shit that's been following me since I kissed Logan on the ice.
Since I showed up at his apartment like some anonymous stranger and let him…Fuck. What I would probably let him do again.
I turn on the shower as hot as it’ll go. The idea of a cold shower now is not appealing in the least. Maybe I can scald him off my skin.
Steam curls up around me fast, fogging the mirror, chasing the chill from my skin. But it doesn’t touch the cold knot still coiled tight in my stomach. The knot of what I did. What I let happen. What Iwanted.
I strip off the hoodie, my shirt, the sweats that just remind me of how I woke up. My boxers are damp from my constant hard on this morning in a way that reminds me too much of Logan’s mouth, and my knees almost buckle.
I step into the water before I can think too hard. Let it pour over me.
