But now I’m at school the next day and, once again, Hansley is nowhere. I’m pretending that doesn’t hurt because it really feels like he’s avoiding me now. How else am I supposed to feel?!
Sugar’s right. I bet he’s going through hell. And I put him in that position.
Not forcefully and not on my own. He certainly,willinglyparticipated, but still. I did this.Ikissedhimfirst, and initiated almost every single encounter we’ve had. This is all me.
I’m a home-wrecker.
Distractedly, I step out of The Queer Palace Café with a Lush Lesbian slushie, but stop in my tracks when I see Hansley across the quad. He looks… a wreck. His facial hair is scruffy, and his hair is a rough mess. He’s still sexy as fuck, but he looks awful.
I stand there. Staring. Unsure what to do. I feel… guilty. And helpless.
I’m so distracted that I don’t quite register someone pausing next to me until they speak.
“Lemon?”
Flinching, I glare at Alka.
“You okay?”
“Yes,” I snap.
He sighs and gives me a wan smile before starting to walk away. Biting my lip, I groan and race after him. “Hold on.”
Alka stops and looks at me warily. I’m used to that look. Nodding in Hansley’s direction, I ask as casually as I can, “I hear he won yesterday.”
Alka grins. “He did.”
“Then why does he look like someone killed his cat?” I ask. Then I wince. Fuck, I hope he doesn’t actually have a cat that I maybe just jinxed.Sorry, kitty.
Alka looks at Hansley and his smile fades. “He’s going through a hard time personally.”
I want to push. I want to ask more. But I’m not sure I can bring myself to do so. “Is he leaving RDU?”
He rolls his eyes. “No, Lemon. You’re going to have to continue fundraising to replace the exorbitant excess you’ve always had to spend.”
This is why I hate Alka. We’re having a civil conversation and he has to be a dick. I glare at him and turn away, heading toward the athletic building. I’m sure that’s where he’s headed, but I make sure I’m far ahead of him by the time he decides to follow in my direction.
I shut my office door hard and fume for a minute. Taking a sip of my drink, I look around for a few minutes and then pull out my phone to text Hansley.
Lemon Frost
Come to my office. Now.
There is no answer. Even minutes later, I’m not even sure if he’s read it. Right before I’m about to storm out of here and search this entire campus for him, there’s a soft knock on my door.
Taking a breath, I say, “Yes?”
It opens and Hansley looks at me. Up close, he looks like even more of a mess. My stomach knots.
“Come in,” I invite, sounding sort of formal. My feet are glued to the spot, though. I can’t make myself move as I watch him step inside silently and shut the door.
Then we stare at each other. I really kind of want to accuse him of avoiding me, but I know that I have a big hand in whatever he’s going through personally.
“Come here,” I whisper.
“Lemon,” he says, shaking his head, “I’m really not in the mood for?—”
Cutting him off, I cross the room and grip the front of his shirt, wheeling him around until I can push him into a chair. He adjusts himself, frowning up at me. Once he’s still, I climb onto his lap and wrap my arms around him, hugging him tightly.
