“Thanks. Oh, and here.” She took off my jacket and handed it back to me.
“Night, Liam.”
“Night, Ava.”
With a final wave, she walked into her room and closed the door.
I headed downstairs, pulling my coat back on before I walked outside. The faint scent of strawberries wafted around me, and I pulled the collar up to my nose, inhaling the mix of strawberries and the familiar woody scent of my cologne.
It was a dangerous combo—her sweetness and my grit—and it filled my lungs, settling deep in my chest where that protective ache was starting to mutate into something hotter. Something entirely forbidden.
I shoved my hands into my pockets, turning toward the dark street, but the scent followed me. It was a taunt. A reminder.
Drew would kill me if he knew I was standing here, high on his sister’s perfume, thinking about how good she looked wearing my clothes. He’d put me through the boards for real.
No, I needed to snuff out whatever this was.
Ava was off-limits and would always be.
Especially since she deserved someone who could give her real love.
And I wasn’t capable of that.
Not for her.
Not for anyone.
FOUR
I spent two days letting the humiliation settle like sludge in my gut. I knew I needed to talk to Chris—and get back the box of books he’d borrowed—but I kept putting it off. The thought of seeing him again made my stomach roil, but I knew it was inevitable. Clark Fork University was a relatively small campus, and while I didn’t know everyone, it was hard to avoid people.
Finally, my roommate, Sydney, took matters into her own hands. She set a cup of coffee on my bedside table. The scent of hazelnut—my favorite—roused me from under my covers. “Time to get that fine dancer’s butt out of bed, Ava. You’re going to look like a swamp witch if you stay in this bed any longer, and frankly, you’re starting to stink up the place.”
“It’s only been two days since I showered.”
“Yes, but the eau de depressed-over-a-small-dicked-boy is stinking up the joint.”
I sat up in bed and grabbed the coffee, taking a sip and closing my eyes as the creamy blend of steamed milk, hazelnut syrup, and espresso rejuvenatedmy soul. Sometimes I wished my hazelnut lattes were a hot guy. He would literally be the perfect man.
“How did you know he had a small dick?”
She let out a laugh. “Does he really?”
I shrugged. “I mean, it’s not like lipstick container small, but it’s not that big either.”
She shook her head and pursed her lips. “And I’ll bet that limp-dicked bastard didn’t even know how to use what little he had well, did he? Please tell me he at least loved eating you out to make up for it.”
I sighed. “Unfortunately, that’s a negative.”
He’d said he didn’t like the taste and I had never felt so embarrassed. I’d debated asking Sydney if that was normal—if most guys didn’t enjoy the taste—but the thought of even bringing it up made me want to crawl out of my skin. Instead, I carried that quiet shame and hoped our sex life would improve.
In a way, I suppose it was improved now that I could go find someone else to have sex with.
“Come on, out of bed. Don’t let that man take any more of your time.”
“I have to get some things from his place before I can officially pretend he never existed.”
“Want me to go with you?” she offered.
