I did.
I heard his answering roar, and then I was falling.
My eyes snapped open as I lay on my bed, sweat trickling down my body. Awareness rushed back to me as I realized I wasnot in some heavy sex session, but I was in fact alone, in my bed, having another hot dream about my least favorite quarterback.
Sitting up, I wiped my hand across the back of my neck. I could still feel his fingers there. His phantom touch was screwing with my head.
Getting out of bed, I turned to look at the mess of the tangled sheets. It looked like I had been in a fight with the sheets and lost.
With an unhappy sigh, I headed to the kitchen to get some water. Running the faucet to let the water cool, I waited for a few moments. Because our apartment was so small, we didn’t have a big fridge, and Mom had bought us a filter that attached straight to the faucet. As I filled my tumbler, I focused on forcing his body from my subconscious. It had to stop. Two nights in a row. I was exhausted, and I needed to sleep without him waiting for me in my dreams.
I was not a person who did well with no sleep. In fact, I was a monster with sleep deprivation. No amount of Red Bull would save me tomorrow, or any other energy drink. Nothing would be able to elevate my mood. I had Leitch first thing tomorrow morning, too; I needed the z’s, or I may be in danger of getting flung out of his class if he bitched at me. There would be no holding back my snark if I didn’t go to bed and sleep.
Checking the time, I fought my frustration when I saw it was ten after four. Three hours before I was due to get up.Please let me have three hours,I prayed as I headed back to my room.
“You okay?” Mia asked me as she came out of the bathroom.
“Yeah, thirsty,” I mumbled as I walked past her.
“You want the AC turned up higher?” Mia asked as she hesitated at her own bedroom door. “You’re sweating.”
“I think I’m getting sick,” I lied.
“Oh no, should I get the cough medicine?”
“Nah, sleep is all I need.” With a tired smile, I closed the door as I heard her run the faucet in the kitchen. Setting my water down, I turned to the bed, straightening my sheets and fluffing my pillows. “Fuck you, Jett Santo, you do not get to come into my bed anymore,” I told the pillow in my hand fiercely. “Enough is enough, let mesleep.” Finishing my water, I got back into bed.
Curling onto my side, I stared at the bedroom wall and thought about earlier. The bar had been fun. The bouncers and the wait staff knew we were underage, but since we were only drinking Coke, they left us to it. I had visited every table, spoken to a handful of people, and passed out every flyer telling them where the band was playing next week.
Wade’s band was good tonight. The new guitar player was great, and the guy singing was cute as well as a good singer. Plus, they all seemed to like each other, and the look on Wade’s face at the end of the set suggested that he had high hopes for this group to gel better than their predecessors.
Mia had also had fun, and she and the new singer had gotten on well. Mia would make anyone relax; she was bubbly, bright, and easy to talk to.
The new guitarist, Shane, had been quiet, but his light stubble, dirty blond hair, and easy smile had made him easy to watch. Wade had teased me about liking himtoomuch, but when I shushed him, he didn’t say anything further. But I saw his pleased smile when Shane asked for my number. Mia, of course, took my indecision out of my hands as she put my number directly into Shane’s phone.
Wade dropped us off at the apartment, and after chatting about the night over a cup of tea, we had gone to bed . . . where my night had taken a sour turn. A few hours later, I was awake, staring at the wall and once again thinking about an arrogant, entitled, dickhead quarterback.
Who had gotten my AC fixed.
With a groan, I flipped onto my back and stared sightlessly at the ceiling.
I’d thanked him. We both had a strong distaste for each other. There was nothing left to think about. So, I lost my virginity to him. Fine. I couldn’t get it back, and I needed to stop mourning the loss of it.
Shane seemed nice. Shane might call. Shane might even ask me out if he calls. Shane had nice brown eyes. Shane was a step in the right direction. So why, when I closed my eyes to try and sleep, did only steely blue eyes stare back at me? Light blue eyes framed with thick dark lashes.With a strangled scream, I threw my now-empty tumbler across the room.
“You okay, Ava?” Mia called to me through the wall.
“Yeah, thought I felt a bug,” I called back, flinching at the lie.
“Go to sleep, it’s late.”
Yes, I know. I’m trying.With a hand pressed firmly over my eyes to keep them shut, I took deep, calming breaths.
I knew why I couldn’t sleep, apart from the porn rerun in my head; it wasn’t the only thing keeping me awake. Mia had found out what happened to Jett on Friday. The rumors were rife that someone had stolen something from him. No one was clear as to whether it was his wallet or something else, but the word on campus was that the Devils were hunting because Satan himself was angry.
Is that how we met? Had I been helping him search for what was lost? Should I approach him and ask? But then how did that explain that he didn’t recognize me? If someone had been helping me after I lost something, I would remember who they were.Regardlessof my last name.
However, helping someone, even a Devil, was something that I’d totally do. I considered it more as I thought it through. He’d lost something or something had been taken, and I had offered to help him find it . . . on my way home? Not one personhad said to me that they saw me talking to Jett Santo on Friday. I had been with Mia, we had run into Wade, andhewas the one who told me earlier tonight that I lost at beer pong and took the forfeit of double shots. Ignoring warnings, I was insistent I could win but kept losing . . . hence the complete wastedness.
