Trust in Me

“Are you not going to kiss me again?”

“That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

Long lashes specked with red swept down as my lips brushed over hers. It was such a gentle kiss, but it was like a clap of thunder in my veins. Dropping my weight onto my other arm, I splayed my fingers along her cheek as I pressed a kiss to the corner of her lips and then the other side.

Sliding my hand along the nape of her neck, I tasted the skin of her jaw, the flesh below her ear. A deep chuckle rumbled through me when she shivered. When I pressed my lips under her ear again, flicking my tongue, she made a sound that blew the thoughts out of my head.

“Good night, Avery.”

I kissed her, pressing my lips to hers, working at the seam of her mouth until she opened, allowing me in. The taste of her skin had sparked a fire deep inside me, but the feel of her warm mouth ignited a blazing fire. I couldn’t get enough of her lips, of her kisses or the soft, breathy sounds she was making.

I groaned as I slid my hand out from underneath her, guiding her onto her back. Her body immediately stiffened, and I knew I needed to tone it down. The last thing I wanted was to scare her.

God, that was the last thing.

Cupping her cheek, I softly kissed her until her body relaxed under mine and then, shocking the hell out of me, her small hand ended up under my shirt, pressing against the bare skin of my abs.

It was like being branded.

Heat roared through my veins as my body jerked on reflex. Air punched from my lungs. She wanted to touch me? Holy hell, she could touch me. I pulled back, reached down and yanked my shirt over my head.

Avery’s mouth parted as her gaze moved over my chest, the tattoo, and then down. It was like a touch, but better. My body was burning to feel hers.

I tugged the comforter down and planted my hands on either side of her head, tangling them in her hair. There was a primal part that took over when her hands flattened over the lower part of my stomach. My entire body tightened.

I dropped my forehead to hers. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

She dragged in a deep breath as I lowered my body onto hers. The feel of her softness under me had my pulse pounding like I had run a mile in sand. I clenched my jaw shut as she shifted under me, spreading her thighs and allowing our bodies to meet.

“Fuck,” I growled as a tremor shook me to the core.

Claiming her lips in a kiss that scorched my skin, I slowly rolled my hips against her. Fuck-a-dee-fuck, pleasure rolled down my spine. I wanted to sink into her, completely lose myself in her. Her hands gripped my sides as I rocked against her, trailing a path down her neck, to the swell of her breast and lower with my hand. I hooked her thigh around my hip, settling deeper against her. Our bodies rocked and her sweet, soft moan echoed in my thoughts.

“I like that sound.” I thrust my hips forward, and she moaned again. “Correction. I love that fucking sound.”

I don’t know what it was about her, maybe it was everything, but it had never felt this good before, this strong and intense with anyone else. Not even my first time when it had felt like I’d jumped over a hundred-story building.

My fingers tangled with hers as her tongue flicked over mine, bringing me to an almost painful point where I thought there’d be a good chance I was going to embarrass myself. Even knowing that, I couldn’t stop. I slid my hand up hers, under her sleeve, over delicate skin and—

My hand stilled as my fingers came to a patch of rough, raised skin. Half of my brain was existing at cock level, but the other part took control. I followed the path of skin, dumbly realizing it formed a thin, straight line down the center of her wrist—the wrist she always covered with a bracelet.

No. No fucking way.

My heart literally stopped as I lifted my head, staring down into her unfocused gaze.

“Cam?” she said softly, wiggling under me.

I turned her arm over and I looked. There was no mistaking the deep scar that ran several inches up her vein. My thumb followed it as I realized that this cut—oh God, this cut—had to be severe.

An ache formed in my chest, pouring through my veins. Muscles tightened and lumps formed. I wanted to wipe the scar away, to erase whatever it was that had caused this, because I knew she had done this to herself.

“Avery . . . ?” My gaze moved to hers, latching on. I could barely breathe. “Oh, Avery, what is this?”

A moment or two passed when she stared up at me, the blood leaching from her face, and then she tore her arm free. She clambered out from underneath me, yanking her sleeve down with such force I thought she’d tear the arm off her shirt.

“Avery . . .” I twisted toward her, reaching out.

“Please,” she whispered, climbing to the end of the bed. “Please leave.”

Stomach sinking, I pulled my hand back. “Avery, talk to me.”

Her entire body trembled as she shook her head.

“Avery—”

“Leave!” She shot from the bed, taking a step back like a wounded, caged animal. “Just leave.”

Every instinct demanded that I not leave, but the wild, horrified glaze to her eyes was more than I could bear. I went to the door and then stopped, trying once more. “Avery, we can talk—”

“Leave.” Her voice cracked. “Please.”

The muscles along my back tensed at the broken sound of her voice. I did what she asked. Not because I wanted to, but because it was what she wanted.

I left.

Eighteen

The moment I realized that Avery was never coming to astronomy class again, I literally couldn’t believe it. But it had to be the truth. Since the ride back from my parent’s house the Friday after Thanksgiving, I hadn’t heard a peep from her. No response to my calls or my texts. The times that I knocked on her door, there was never an answer even though her car was in the parking lot.

She hadn’t even answered the door for eggs.

When the weekend came again and the following Monday morning passed without Avery being in astronomy, I knew she had taken an incomplete.

A motherfucking incomplete.

It was insane for her to go that far to avoid me, and for what? Because I had seen the scar? I didn’t understand and I wasn’t stupid. She was obviously embarrassed and had gone to great lengths to hide the scar, but it hadn’t been fresh. It was something she had done years ago, so why did she hide from me now?

I talked to Brittany and even Jacob, since Avery didn’t show in the Den for lunch. Neither of them knew what the hell was going on with Avery. I hadn’t mentioned the scar. I never would, but I had hoped that they had some insight. They had none.

It was driving me crazy—the silence and the confusion. And the longer it went, the more acid that seemed to collect in the pit of my stomach, the worse the knots and the ache in my chest were getting.

Short of camping out in front of her door, there was little I could do, but I was determined to talk to her. And it happened on the last day of finals, at the start of winter break. Like a total stalker, I’d been staring out my front window, waiting for Ollie to return with pizza, when I saw her cross the parking lot with her hands full with groceries.

When I heard the soft footsteps in the hall outside, I threw open the door. Avery was in front of her door, her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, and the weight of her bags dragging her shoulders down. There was no doubt in my mind that she was trying to ghost through the door before I saw her.

That hurt.

And that fucking pissed me off.

“Avery.”

Her back stiffened like she’d been shot full of steel. She didn’t turn around or address me, and as my gaze drifted over her, I could see the pink tips of her fingers, strangled from the bags she carried. Some of the steam went out of my anger.