Was it?
That brings me to present day.
My freshman year of college is almost over. I’m living the life I thought I wanted and second-guessing myself every day.
I close my eyes and try not to think, try to ignore the heat my body is missing, and the way a certain pair of hands used to touch me, hold me, subdue me until I was coming undone at his command. Nights like these are the worst because nothing can satisfy the need. Trust me, I’ve tried relentlessly to fulfill it—but my desire only wants one thing. Or only one person, I should say. My body is still a lecherous traitor even after all this time. I slip my hands into my underwear and massage the ungodly ache.
“Every morsel of food you eat, every breath of air you take is because of me. Because I allow it . . . You live because of me. You live for me. Remember that when you fall asleep with my come inside you.”
IT’S A BEAUTIFUL, CLEAR MORNING.
I have a cup of Starbucks in my hand and the roof off my Jeep. I bought it the first week I was here. An obnoxious yellow Wrangler I am absolutely in love with. With the money I saved over the years, some grants, and a very large severance package from Mark, my finances are sitting pretty for the foreseeable future. I don’t need much, a one-bedroom apartment, my car, and some groceries keep me living modestly, but happy. The fact that all those things are located in the middle of paradise doesn’t hurt, either.
I take a seat in my English class, prepared to ace my last final.
“Morning, good looking.” Michael slips into the seat next to me.
“Morning yourself,” I reply as I take a sip of my blonde roast.
“Ready to crush this test?” he asks with a cute grin and huge dimples. He’s adorable. I met Michael in this very seat at the beginning of the semester. He’s in the same boat I am; he started college late, and is immersed in a sea of barely legal adults. Being a twenty-three-year-old freshman can have its downfalls. Like cradle robbing.
Michael wasn’t shy; he sat right next to me, struck up a conversation, and we haven’t stopped talking since. We started hanging out after class, then on the weekends, and what started out as an innocent friendship snowballed into something more. Something fun and physical and completely carefree. At least for me. I know Michael wants more, but there’s just no way I’m ready for that. I’m perfectly happy getting drunk, having sex, and leaving it at that.
“Up for a little surfing after this?” Michael asks with his big brown eyes as the tests are handed out.
I shrug. “The rest of the day looks pretty wide open.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” He grins, picks up his pen, and starts writing.
I WATCH FROM THE BEACHas Michael rides in his last wave of the day. He’s quite the hottie—all tan skin, dark hair, and flat stomach. Michael was a military brat and lived all over the world, but he says Hawaii is home. When he was seventeen, his mother relocated to California, but Michael refused to leave. So, family friends took him in until he was able to support himself on his own. We’re kindreds like that. He put off school until he had enough money stashed away to work part time and still live comfortably. By the looks of him, his plan is working out just fine.
He runs up the beach with his surfboard under his arm and his body dotted with water droplets. As I watch him approach, I can’t stop myself from imagining another face grinning at me from the shoreline—one with crystal-blue eyes, a seductive mouth, and tattoos on his skin. A face that haunts me when I sleep, and is impossible to find when I’m awake.
“Ellie? El? Where’d you go?” Michael asks pulling me out of my daydream. I smile, hiding the embarrassment of being caught.
“Nowhere, I’m right here.”
“Sure about that, gorgeous? You looked like you were visiting la-la land.”
“The ocean must have put me in a trance.”
“The ocean, huh?” he pokes fun.
I smack his stomach. “Okay, maybe it was a totally hot surfer. But he’s gone now.” I pout.
“You think you’re funny?” Michael raises his eyebrows devilishly.
“I think I’m hilarious.” I start to giggle nervously.
“Let’s see how funny you are after I throw you in.” He lunges at me.
“Michael!” I screech as he hauls me over his shoulder and jogs toward the water’s edge.
He then tosses me in and wrestles with me under the water. I come up for air, gasping and laughing all at the same time.
“You’re a jerk.” I splash him.
“And you’re hilarious, remember?”
