{18+ COLLEGE ROMANCE COMPLETED}
What sucks more than being rejected by the girl of your dreams? Finding out afterward that she's moving in with you.
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The night that Beau Martin spends with Collins Bryant is the best one of his life. He wants to...
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WOW. I HADN'T REALLY known what to expect, but Beau could dance. Like really dance. I mean, sure, he stumbled a little bit at first, but I was fairly certain that was more from the fact that I'd surprised him with my enthusiasm than anything else.
To be honest, I was surprising myself.
But something about this night made me want to let go. Beau was infectious—his happiness and smile and charm. I wanted to bottle up the way he made me feel so I could take it with me when the clock struck twelve.
I shouldn't let myself indulge. That annoying, nagging thought was very clear in the back of my mind, judging me for letting my guard down. But all I wanted was one night. One night without thinking about Denver or the lawsuit or any of that shit. One night when I could just live.
So when I blinked up to find Beau watching me with a dark, intense gaze, I encouraged it. All of it.
"Fuck," he muttered, his eyes lowering to my mouth. Lingering there. "I really want to kiss you. Like mega-super-definitely want to kiss you. Like—"
I shut him up by crashing my lips to his.
—
Two cups of coffee sat on the kitchen counter the next morning when I made my sleepy exit out of my bedroom. The floorboards creaked with a familiar tune as I shuffled into the kitchen, but Beau must not have heard me because he remained bent over by the front door to the apartment, muttering to himself.
"Everything good over there?"
At the sound of my voice, Beau jumped up, spinning around with a guilty expression that had me walking closer. He backed away, hiding something behind him, which fell with a thud a moment later. It was one of my shoes.
Ignoring it, Beau walked nonchalantly to perch on the kitchen island before pushing an extra steaming cup toward me, clearing his throat. Despite that, his voice came out raspy. Throaty. "Everything is great."
"Uh-huh." Chewing on my lip, I let him squirm under my stare for a moment. "And what were you doing with my running shoes?"
"Just, uh—" Beau scratched his head, which was sprouting adorably messy hair this morning. "Making sure there aren't any other tripping hazards around. Don't want you spilling all your colored pencils again." He pointed at my cup. "Or your coffee."
I didn't believe him for a second, but I let it go with a nod and shifted my attention to the coffee. It was warm and delicious-smelling as I picked it up to take a sip. "Second morning in a row that you beat me to making a pot."
Beau shrugged. "Wasn't sure when you wanted to get started with the whole...drawing thing. I don't know jack shit about what makes good lighting."
