May
“Who’sthat?”
“Damn. You ever seen her before?”
I ignore my friends, typing out a reply to Gus. He’s talking about driving up here on Sunday, making up some bullshit about missing the early years of college. You’d think he was a decade out from undergrad, not a junior. We haven’t seen each other in person since the holidays—he went to visit Lissa over spring break—and it’s the longest stretch we’ve gone without seeing each other since we met as seven-year-olds.
It sucks, being apart from the people you love. I’ve had lots of practice, and it still sucks.
“Bennett.” Judd elbows my ribs, almost making me drop my phone. “She’s staring at you.”
I scowl, finishing the message to Gus and hitting Send before glancing up. “I’m not—”Interesteddies on my tongue.
I can’t see her face because some frat guy approached her and she’s turned to talk to him. But I recognize the golden curtain of hair. I’ve seen it splayed across my pillow. Slicked back with salty water. Windswept into a wild halo.
I shove my phone deep into my pocket, walking ahead of my friends without a word. I just checked my messages. She didn’t text or call, didn’t provide any warning. And I memorized her program’s calendar, which was posted on the university website. She was supposed to be in Milan for another week.
Wren turns, missing the disappointment that appears on the face of the guy who was hitting on her, finding me.
She smiles, but it’s not the one I’m used to seeing. It’s a little tentative, slightly unsure. Not confident or brazen or carefree. Her shoulders lift, then fall in a tiny shrug.
A breeze blows a few strands of hair across her face. She tucks them behind her ear, watching me approach, her bottom lip briefly disappearing inside her mouth. Her blue eyes dart behind me, to where my friends are undoubtedly staring. I don’t usually take off like that, and they’d already noticed Wren.
I don’t decide to do it.
But I don’t really bother to fight the urge either. I keep walking until there’s no space left between us, bury my hands in blonde hair, and erase the distance between our mouths too.
She hums when our lips meet. I feel them curve up against mine, a smile fighting to break through. My tongue slips inside, exploring the wet heat. Her arms wrap around my shoulders, hands sliding into my hair while mine find her ass.
This isn’t the first time we’ve kissed. We’ve kissed so many times that I lost count a long time ago. This feels different. It’s lazy, with no purpose or expiration. We’re kissing to kiss, which sounds idiotic and obvious, but my brain isn’t exactly focused right now. A lot of blood has left my head to pool lower.
When we separate, both breathing heavily, we just stare at each other.
“Hi.” Wren smiles. This time, it’s bright and full and rivals the sun beaming overhead.
I tug on her hair. “Hey.”
Her eyes scan my face, like she’s rememorizing my features. “College looks good on you.”
“How was Italy?”
“Fun. I ate a lot of bread and pasta. Went to vineyards. Visited old buildings. Studied a little.”
“Wrote some letters,” I add.
She tilts her head. “A couple.”
“Plus fifteen.”
“You counted?” Her tone is teasing.
“Yeah,” I say seriously. “I did.”
The smile fades from Wren’s face. “I was?—”
“Hey, Bennett! This show still free, or are you going to start charging admission?”
I sigh, spinning to face Wesley. He’s grinning wide, his gaze on Wren.
