Frozen Hearts (MxM)

Chapter One

Cole

Present Day

October

There is an arm wrapped around my waist. That is the first thing I notice when I wake up. As I continue to come to, blinking away the sleep, I notice the hot breath ghosting along the back of my neck; the strength behind the arm confining me; and the body attached to it—a muscled chest plastered against my back.

My breathing starts to pick up, and a sense of unease settles in my gut. I open my eyes, taking in the light peeking through my blinds, and shift to look down at the pale hand splayed across my abs, just below my belly button. The uneasy feeling increases.

I try to push the arm off me, but the breath at my neck stutters, and I'm pulled closer; the arm tightening around me and making my heart beat faster. Great. This is why I don't let hookups stay the night.

Apparently drunk Cole didn't get the memo.

I finally manage to wriggle off the bed, finding my sweats off the floor and pulling them on. I grab my phone from where it's resting on my bedside table and check the time. 9:35AM.

Movement out of the corner of my eye causes me to turn back towards the bed. The guy from last night is sitting up, back against the headboard, blue eyes blinking up at me. I take a quick stock of the rest of his features: dirty blond hair, full lips, a lean, athletic frame. Can't say I'm surprised.

A somewhat cocky smirk pulls at his lips. "Morning."

Cringing, I run a hand down my face, noticing how he's not making any move to leave.

I look him over as I sigh. Might as well bite the bullet. "Look, uh–" Shit. What was his name? I search through hazy memories of last night, but come up blank. "...man, you've gotta go."

His smirk falls, and he sits up straighter. "Oh. Um, yeah. Sure."

I run my fingers through my hair, trying to untangle the knots as I wait by the door. Blondie finds his clothes from where they're strewn around the room, making quick work of getting dressed.

Holding my bedroom door open to let him pass, I raise my eyebrows when he pauses at the doorway, tilting his head slightly to look up at me.

He rubs the back of his neck, clearing his throat. "So...can I get your–"

I bark out a sharp laugh, cutting him off before he can finish that sentence. "Yeah, no." At his put out expression, I sigh. "Sorry man, last night was fun," probably, "but it was a one time thing."

He just continues to blink up at me, and my patience begins to wear thin. Or, thinner.

I hold the door open wider, gesturing with my head, and give him a saccharine smile. "I'm sure you can find your way out."

His eyes widen for a moment before narrowing to slits. "Wow." He shakes his head and shoves past me.

I close the door and lean my forehead against it, blowing out a breath. God. I'm such a fucking asshole sometimes.

I wait a moment, wanting to make sure the guy has found his way out of the dorm; and taking the time to take a few deep breaths. In. And out. Trying to calm my still rapid heart rate. What was I thinking last night? Not that it's unusual for me to find a random stranger to bring home; be that a guy from the bar on campus, or through an app. But to get wrecked to the point where I'm finding it hard to remember a good ninety percent of what went down last night, just hazy flashes of bright, colorful lights and a warm body? To be so out of it that I couldn't even be bothered to kick the guy out afterward? Yeah, I don't know what that was about.