{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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THERE WAS A COFFEE SHOP across the street from the hotel that I'd heard a lot about, and as much as I really didn't want to be around people, a good cup of coffee could cure a lot of things.
Plus, I didn't have anything else to do today, and I wasn't exactly the wallowing type. I couldn't change a damn thing about what had happened last night or this morning. No use obsessing over it.
The cafe was tiny; they only had a small collection of tables near the front windows, but they were mostly empty. So after getting my latte, I sat down at one of them and picked up a newspaper from the abandoned table next to me.
Warm vanilla spread over my taste buds as I took a sip from my mug, and I took a second to appreciate it. Yep, that was a damn good drink.
The combination of the soothing atmosphere and the cup of coffee did wonders to my mood as I sat there for God knows how long, flipping through pages of the newspaper. Absolutely destroyed the crossword, too. Nothing like a little brain exercise to distract my heart and its emotions.
When I drained my cup of the last drop, I folded up the newspaper and began to stand, only to plop back down in my seat again as the door chimed, opening.
Collins walked into the cafe, and those goddamn emotions took over again.
Fuck.
"Beau?"
—
"Baby girl," I hissed. "Wake up!"
Collins rolled over in my bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes grumpily. "Why? It's the weekend." After a half-second pause, she bolted up in bed with wide eyes. "It is the weekend, right?"
I laughed despite feeling bad for causing panic. "Yes, sweetheart. It's the weekend."
Collins collapsed back into bed with a sigh of relief, turning over onto her side.
"Not so fast," I said, flipping the cover down and giving her a little smack on her ass to get her going. She made an involuntary noise that got my blood pumping, but a glare over her shoulder tamed it again. I beamed at her despite the dirty look. "I gotta show you something before you roll back over and go to sleep."
She groaned. "Why are you acting like a kid on Christmas morning?"
Some people got excited to open presents, but my giddiness always came from watching friends and family open gifts. Specifically gifts from me. There was a rush about it, a swelling feeling that came from making another person happy.
"You'll see," I said, bouncing onto my toes.
Excitement coursed in my veins, but so did nervousness.
This was Collins. This girl had told me more times than I could count that she didn't like charity. That she didn't need my boots or my plane or the bottles of coffee creamer I replaced every other week.
