She brushes her hair away and I swear I see a hickey on her neck. I’m so jealous, it’s seeping out of my pores.
‘You, uh, do anything fun after the show?’
‘Nothing crazy.’
Thanks, Mia, that’s nice and vague. I can’t decide what’s worse,knowing or trying to guess. But then I realize something. He’s the one who’s alone right now. Mia is here with me.
‘How come you didn’t go to Members with the others?’ she asks as I allow myself a smug moment.
‘I wasn’t in the mood,’ I tell her, waving in the general direction of the oven. ‘And since my biscuits were such a success, I figured I should put in more baking practice. You know, in case soccer doesn’t work out.’
Mia crosses the kitchen and bends over to peer inside the oven and so help me God, how am I not supposed to check out her ass in this situation? ‘You’ll be a viral sensation,’ she says as she straightens up and I avert my eyes fast.
I have nothing else to say. All the anger and frustration I felt minutes ago dissolves into something I can’t put into words because I’ve never felt it before. There’s a gravitational pull in the middle of my chest, right where my heart should be, and it’s dragging me down, impossibly heavy and all-consuming. I want her and I can’t have her. She’s right there in front of me and a million miles way. Am I even in the friend zone? Am I even that close?
‘How long until the cookies are ready?’
I check the digital clock on the stove.
‘Ten minutes.’
She seems to contemplate my answer and what she might do next before she glides over to the fridge, pulling out a carton of milk, then taking two glasses out of the cupboard.
‘Do you really listen to classical music when you study?’ she asks as she takes a seat at the kitchen table.
The black hole in my chest collapses in on itself, like it was never there, and I feel a spark of possibility. She isn’t with him.She’s here, with me. That has to mean something. We might be in overtime but the game isn’t finished yet.
‘Yeah,’ I say with a grin. ‘I really do.’
She smiles back and it’s official. I’m even more cooked than the cookies.
32
Mia
I love the shower in my room. It’s small, so small I have to hang my washbag on the back of the door because anything I put on the shelves is immediately elbowed off when I start washing my hair, but it gets hot fast and the water pressure is just perfect.
When I close my eyes and turn my face towards the water, I start replaying the evening. The music, Oliver’s hand on my leg, his breath against my ear, and then the moonlit walk afterward. The whole thing felt like something out of a dream, no, a book. The full moon shone down on Hemden in a way that made it even more beautiful, and wandering around, holding hands with a man who makes my heart flip, was almost too perfect. Admittedly, it’s a little irritating, knowing it took a jealous fit over Ethan’s attention to spur him into action, but like Jenna has reminded me over and over, Oliver is only a man. If I’m going to carry on dating them, I’ve got to accept their limitations. And it’s unimportant how we got here. What matters now is that we’re together. I think.
The kiss, our first kiss, will go down in history as one of the most romantic first kisses of all time. The weeping willows, the cool milky moonlight, his soft lips finding mine. And then we walked back to halls in sweet silence, hands entwined. The kiss outside my front door was less restrained. I run a hand over the back of my head, still a little tender from being pushed up againstthe wall. When I told Oliver to slow down, it only seemed to make him more excited.
‘Whatever you want,’ he’d murmured, his teeth grazing my earlobe and testing my resolve. ‘I’m yours to command.’
Leaning against the wall of the shower, I let my hand slide down my soapy body, reliving his words. Only, as I find the sensitive spot between my legs, I’m hit with a different sense memory. The smell of cookies baking, the look on Ethan’s startled face when I floated into the kitchen. I don’t stop. Instead, the memories merge. Oliver’s accent, his pretty mouth. Ethan’s hands on my hips, his aggressive kisses meeting mine, the way I couldn’t stop myself from grinding against his powerful thighs. Even if the multiverse theory is true and there are limitless versions of this world, there still isn’t a reality where Ethan Taylor is genuinely interested in someone like me on any level other than a quick and convenient hook-up. Not that it wasn’t hot. Not that I didn’t toss and turn in my own bed after leaving his.
My fingers circle lightly, adding more pressure as the two men fight for my imaginary attention, and my nipples pucker and harden under the powerful stream of steaming hot water. If things feel a tad bit off with Oliver, it’s only because my interaction with Ethan confused things. Confused my body, at least. Rough hands on soft skin will do that to a girl. I move my hand faster, imagining it’s Oliver, no, Ethan, no, Oliver. Oliver pushing me up against the wall of Carpenter House, Ethan laying me back on the bed, Ethan’s body covering mine. Kissing me, touching me, surrendering his body to me until I’m so close—
‘Ethan,’ I gasp, bracing myself against the wall of the shower, my legs shaking as I come, hard and fast. I shut off the water and cold air hits my warm body as I reach for a towel. In the mirrorover the sink, I wipe away the condensation to see my dilated pupils and swollen lips, and as the steam swallows up the glass again, my chest is still heaving with the force of my breath.
‘It doesn’t mean anything,’ I murmur, clutching the towel around my body. It’s Oliver I’m into. Ethan is my roommate who I made out with one time, which must happen to people all the time in college. No one can control their thoughts, especially when they’re seconds away from a soul-sweeping orgasm.
It doesn’t mean anything at all.
33
Mia
‘You’re sure I look okay?’
