{18+ COMPLETED • COLLEGE ROMANCE}
When a college freshman with a learning disability and a reputation collides with a straight-A, straight-laced girl in the dorm kitchen one night, he sees the darkest parts of himself reflected in her. But the two o...
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M A D I E
November Twenty-Seventh
Four
For once you don't want to wish everything away,
but you do wish it could just be
you and him
all day.
—
My eyes blinked open the next morning to the feeling of warmth. Bren's hand skimmed up and down my side, his breath harsh and hot against my neck. Sunshine filtered through curtains onto my cheeks. Bren rocked his hips gently against my backside. He was hard.
I turned over, wanting to see him.
"Good morning." My voice was still thick from sleep. But I wasn't sure if he heard me, anyway. Bren seemed to be in a daze. He cupped my face, running his thumb over my lips as he watched in apparent fascination. I put a hand to his bare chest, feeling his racing heart.
"I've just been laying here thinking how I never got to kiss you yesterday," he murmured, his eyes never leaving my mouth. "Not like I wanted to."
"There were a few things you didn't get to do yesterday that you wanted to," I pointed out, shivering as I remembered what he'd said.
Bren heard me that time. He threw an arm around my waist and drew me into him with a throaty grumble of appreciation. His hand found the hem of my shirt and skirted beneath it, pulling it up as he caressed my side.
I wasn't sure what had gotten into him the last day or so, but I wasn't complaining. It was much better than the irritated, worried mess that he'd been the rest of the week.
Just as Bren's fingers began to brush the underside of my bare breast, my mom began hollering through the house, announcing we were going on a family beach walk.
To my dismay, he quickly withdrew his touch. A fast, hard kiss was pressed to my lips before Bren rolled from the bed. He walked toward the bathroom, dragging his feet and grunting a bit as he went. When he neared the doorway, he tossed a heated look in my direction. "That was not how I wanted to kiss you, just so we're clear."
And then he disappeared, leaving me to curse my mom beneath my breath.
When Bren popped back out of the bathroom, he threw on grey sweats and followed me down the stairs to the sight of peppy Patricia. And then there was Dad, who looked nearly annoyed as Bren. Maybe they would get along after all.
The walk was fine, aside from my mom's dramatic retelling of the Grey's Anatomy episode from last week—the one we had just watched. Bren lagged behind me, answering my dad's probing questions for a while. Eventually, he jogged up next to me, leaning in to grumble in my ear. "Could you have mercy on me and not wear tight ass yoga pants when your parents are around?"
