“No, I’m glad you did. I think it might have given him some perspective.”
By the time I have my things packed and I’m ready to head back to Huntston, I still haven’t had a chance to really talk to Davis. He doesn’t answer when I knock on his door, and I worry that the last time I see him will be the episode last night.
But as I’m walking out to my car, I’m surprised to find him sitting on the ratty old rocking chair on the porch.
“You gonna be alright?” He asks me.
“Are you?” I reply, returning his crooked smile.
“I’m gonna try.” I hear what he doesn’t say, that right now, trying is going to have to be enough.
I nod. It’s something. I’ll take it.
“And hey Brody—check in on your guy, yeah? Whatever it was, make it right.”
“Yeah, okay. He’s not my guy, though.”
I pull out of the driveway, leaving a smiling Davis behind me.
CHAPTER 9
BECK
For a guy who absolutely doesnotwant to see Brody Miller, I’m spending an alarming amount of time trying to keep tabs on him.
Not in a weird way. Or an interested way, even. It’s a strategic way.
Aknow your enemy’s movementskind of way.
Amake sure he doesn’t sneak up behind you and reenact the worst moment of your life but worsekind of way.
Totally normal captain stuff.
That’s what I tell myself as I sit next to the window on the third-floor common room, pretending to scroll my phone while actually staring at the parking lot like I’m waiting for an important package. Freshmen play pool behind me, yelling and laughing and living their carefree lives while I sit here marinating in dread and lust and shame and whatever the hell else this is that I’m feeling.
I haven’t been sleeping well this weekend. Not since… Okay, that first night I slept like a goddamn baby. I’m not even sure how Igot back to my room, all I know is I woke up pantsless with my dick in my hand. But as soon as the morning fog cleared from my mind and I realized what I had done, and what I had dreamt about all night, I couldn't deal. Every time I close my eyes, I’m back in the stairwell. Back under his control.
You like this.
I bet you want to come for me.
Come.
Lust crawls down my spine. I pinch the inside of my arm until it stings and the feeling eases.
I’m a mess. A complete catastrophe of emotions full of rage and humiliation and an overwhelming urge to jerk off constantly.
And the worst part is, I don’t even know which of those feelings is the loudest.
Sometimes I’m furious. Livid. I’m pissed and embarrassed and pissed at just how embarrassed I am, and I want to beat the shit out of him.
I live on the edge of ready to fight him the second he walks back through the door and prove I’m not the weak, pathetic, shuddering mess he saw last week.
Brody caught me by surprise and I acted out of character, but it damn sure won’t happen again. In fact, if Brody even looks at me funny, I’ll make him sorry he ever glanced in my direction.
Then again, there are moments when I remember—no matter how much I try very, very hardnotto remember—the absolute burning euphoria that coursed through my veins. Because of theway he looked at me. The way he took control of my mind and my body. It was like everything else just melted away, and?—
Nope. No. Absolutely not.
