His lips trail down my neck, sending shivers all over.
"I love looking at you," he breathes, brushing the hair off my shoulders. "Will you let me look at you?"
My heart hammers, a wild thing seeking his. "Yes."
So he does. And I feel it. For a long...
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N O A H
I like this girl.
I live my life by gut feeling. Some things feel right, and some feel wrong.
She's right.
The lecture hall's hum fades. The history of the 20th century stretches out on the chalkboard in a timeline I can almost touch, But my notes have long veered off course.
I'm sketching an underdog's silhouette against the steps of Philadelphia's Museum of Art. Rocky. An icon of persistence.
That party was days ago, now. I don't even know how many.
Camila... I felt everything. Her heart, her laugh, her body. Fuck, I really felt her body. Her warmth against me, her hands on my chest, the softness of her skin under my lips. The bow of the softest-looking lips I've ever seen. How easy it was to talk to her: death, funerals, movies, history, business, it didn't matter.
I've said more to her in two conversations than I have with people I've known for years.
And she left soaked in beer.
Fucking Akira. Her jealousy is the malicious kind, is ugliest. Never liked her.
Class ends, and the shuffle of students packing up fills the silence. I pull my hood further over my head and wait for the room to clear before moving, my limbs heavy. Then I leave too, slinging the bag over my shoulder.
As I thread through the thinning crowd, a voice pulls me from my musings. Lily from seminar class. She won't leave me alone, and never takes a hint.
"We haven't had a chance to talk in weeks." Slick chestnut hair pulled back, grey eyes sharp. A little gold hoop through her septum. "I enjoyed your take on the Cold War dynamics last week."
"Thank you."
Lily shuffles closer, a confident move. "Maybe we could—"
"Sorry, Lily. I'm a bit preoccupied." I nod and head out.
Gone.
......
I lose track of the days.
Thursday marks mid-October. Fox packs up and leaves this evening, meeting Cam for coffee at Hallowed Grounds for Maddie Tutoring or whatever the fuck it is they do. He returns smiling, that despondency gone. Guess she talked sense into him.
On Friday, I head to my last class, human development, dragging my feet across campus. The sharp breeze threatens to take my hood off.
I slip into the glass building, then the second cavernous classroom. Fox and Jed are already up in the back row. I hike up my bag and climb the steps until I'm level with them.
