This is what you wanted, I reminded myself. A risky hookup in a semi-public place. Nothing intimate about it.
But as I helped her pull up her pants and then tucked a strand of hair behind her ear that had come loose during our activities, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d just made everything infinitely more complicated.
Because the truth was, no matter where we were or how risky the location, being inside Ava had felt like coming home.
And that scared me more than anything else in my life ever had.
“Come on,” I said, wrapping the condom in a napkin I’d brought and pulling up my pants before taking her hand, leading her back toward the main part of the library. “I think we’ve traumatized enough periodicals for one evening.”
She laughed again, squeezing my fingers, and I let myself hold on to her for just a little longer than necessary.
Just until we got back to the part of the library where other people might see.
Just until I had to let her go.
NINETEEN
The hockey house was quiet when I walked in—just the hum of the fridge and the muffled sound of Sam’s voice drifting from the living room. I’d been hoping for noise. A party, the TV blasting, guys arguing over a video game—something loud enough to drown out the loop playing in my head on repeat.
Ava’s rosy flushed cheeks, blissed-out gaze as she looked at me, and the feeling of coming home…
Nope. I wasn’t thinking about that.
It was just sex. Good sex—incredible sex, actually—but that’s all it was. The location made it exciting. The risk of getting caught made it hot. That’s why my hands were still shaking and my chest felt like it was caving in.
It was just adrenaline.
Nothing more.
I was halfway to the kitchen when I heard Sam more clearly.
She was on the couch, her phone pressed to her ear, and her legs draped over the armrest. From the sound of it, shewas mid-conversation, and based on the subject, I guessed it was with Abby or one of her sorority sisters.
“—no, I know, but he keeps texting me these long paragraphs about how he’s never felt this way before.” She rolled her eyes at the ceiling. “Like, sir, we hooked up twice. Calm down.” A pause while the other person talked. “No, I’m not responding. He’s nice enough, but I’m not looking for a boyfriend. I just wanted to get laid, and now he’s acting like I owe him a relationship because of it.”
She spotted me and waved without missing a beat. I dropped onto the other end of the couch and she didn’t lower her voice or change her tone—this was Sam, and I’d heard far worse from her. She had no filter around us now that she’d lived with us for a while.
“Honestly, it wasn’t even that good,” she continued, picking at a thread on the couch cushion. “Like, fine. Adequate. But now he’s talking about taking me to dinner and I’m like—we are not there. We will never be there. Some guys just cannot take a hint, even when you spell it out in big bold letters.”
She laughed at whatever her friend said, then wrapped up the call. “Okay, I gotta go study. Chat later.”
She tossed her phone onto the coffee table and looked at me. “Men are exhausting.”
“Thanks.”
“Not you. Well, sometimes you. But mostly other men.”
That’s when Gordy appeared in the kitchen doorway, a plate of something that smelled absolutely fucking delicious in one hand with a fork in the other. He must’ve been in there the whole time. Sam’s eyes cut to him, and her expression shifted—like she was running back through everything she’d just said and determining how much he’d heard.
“How long have you been standing there?” Her tone was light, but I caught the edge underneath.
“Long enough.” Gordy leaned against the doorframe and took a bite of his food. They stared at one another while he chewed, and once he swallowed, he said, “Adequate, huh?” His voice was casual and gave away nothing of how he felt about what he’d heard. Drew and I weren’t entirely sure what was going on with these two, but we were pretty sure there wassomething. Right now was only confirming that further.
Sam’s jaw tightened. “That was a private conversation.”
“If you wanted it private, should’ve done it in your room.” He shrugged, chewing. “I’m just wondering why you went back a second time if it was only adequate.”
Sam sat up straighter. “Because sometimes adequate is fine, Harry. Not everything has to be a love story.”
