My brain still feels like warm goo in my head, but I can’t complain. Pure satisfaction hums through me. I can’t worry about anything right now, let alone my arithmetic abilities.
Despite the scrambled state of my brain, one thing does ring through it, clear as a bird’s call on a still, silent morning. It’s something I can’t believe I haven’t fully realized until now.
I might be falling in love with this girl, for real.
33
CARMEN
The bustle of the Brumehill campus at midday stirs something back to life inside me.
Being surrounded by people my own age, groups of friends talking excitedly, seeing people hunched over books and laptops through the windows of the little on-campus coffee shop, the flow of students coming in and out of the big library, it all gives me a longing for the college experience that I cut short.
The college experience I had wasn’t the best, and I’m glad that I gave myself this gap year for my writing and to figure things out about myself, but do I want to get back to school and finish my degree.
Even though I’m still not sure what that degree should be in.
I have a meeting scheduled with someone from the admissions department today. I’m bringing copies of my detailed transcripts so we can go over exactly what credits will transfer, how they’ll transfer, and what timeframe I can expect to finish certain courses of study in.
I’ve decided that I want to transfer here next year. I want to stay in Cedar Shade, I want to keep working at the café, and Iwant to study at Brumehill. I like it here. It feels like home, and I know I won’t be ready to leave it at the end of this gap year.
I’ve been weighing the options for what I should declare as my major, but I don’t feel like I’m any closer to a decision.
Stick with Pre-Med? It’ll be the path of least resistance since I already have a lot of credits. But a career in medicine never actually excited me, and can I really go through the extra years of med school, not to mention the demands of the profession, when my heart isn’t in it and never has been?
What about just studying English? I mean, okay, it’s not a famously practical choice for a college major. But at least I’ll enjoy going to my classes for once. Maybe it’ll even make me a better writer.
The puzzling thoughts in my brain come to a sudden halt when a pair of arms wraps around me from behind.
They tighten around me, pulling me flush against a firm, broad frame. The fresh, spicy scent that swims into my nose immediately tells me who it is.
I should protest his embrace. We’re not a couple, after all. And the way he’s stepped behind me and gathered me between his arms, washing his presence over every sense I have, is very boyfriend-y. Anyone looking would instantly get the wrong idea.
But protesting is the last thing I’m capable of right now as I melt into his touch. Besides, why should I care about anyone getting the wrong idea? I don’t know anyone on campus except the girls, and they already have their own ideas about what’s going on between Jamie and me.
Jamie dips his head low. Electric current coasts over my skin as the sharp scrape of his stubble rasps against the sensitive side of my neck.
“You know why I haven’t shaved for a couple days?” His question is a gravelly whisper in my ear. There’s a devious note to his voice that makes me shudder.
“Why?”
“Because I knew you wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about how it would feel against the inside of your thighs.” He rolls the sharp cut of his jaw against the side of my neck, the short, sharp hair raking against my skin.
A tight clench pulls between my legs. He’s right. That’s exactly what I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since I noticed he’s skipped shaving for a couple days.
I have to wait for the swoop of my stomach to settle before I can respond in a steady voice.
“Well, are you just going to talk about it, or are you going to show me?”
One thing I’ve learned from this experiment with Jamie is that a man with a mouth can really turn me on. And as much as I wouldn’t have expected it, Jamie really knows how to use that mouth of his, not just between my legs, but against my ear, too. And I’m starting to lean into giving it back.
“Is that what you want, Carmen? For me to drop to my knees, pull down your pants, and eat that gorgeous pussy of yours in the middle of campus?”
A pulse of heat blasts through me.
“All talk,” I tease.
His right hand glides down my side, resting at my waist, his fingers dangerously close to the button of my jeans. “Don’t tempt me.”
