Charade

              I make the stops I need and get the money. I don’t like people coming to our place if I can avoid it.

              I think about going to Cheye

              Still, I turn away from the house and toward the dorms. I need to forget more. I know how to hold myself in check. Hell, I don’t even have to try. It’s no different with her.

              I park the car and text her. My phone rings about three seconds later and I smile. “How you getting me in?”

              “Who said you’re coming in? Maybe I’m doing homework.”

              “I’m more fun than homework.”

              “You know this would be much easier if I went with you.”

              “Yeah, but this is more exciting.” I don’t know why I don’t want her at my place right now. Maybe it’s Adrian and his psychic-ass that’ll say things I don’t want to hear.

              Cheye

              I slam the door to Adrian’s car and I’m halfway around the building when I realize the buzz beneath my skin is real. The excitement, eagerness. For the first time, in a long ass time I really want something.

              And I know it’s the bulge behind my fly making me think this way, but it still feels pretty fucking good.

~CHAPTER EIGHTEEN~

Cheye

              I shove the picture of Mom under my mattress and jump out of bed. I didn’t expect him to get a hold of me again today, but I’m glad he did. Glad I can shove the memories away and let Colt distract me.

              I slip on a pair of slippers and a bra, even though I might not have it on for long, before sneaking out the door and down the hall. Thankfully the RA is nowhere in sight, but I have to steer clear of the front entrance. It’s guarded like a high security prison.

              My heart beats fast, and I’m not sure if it’s because I’m scared of getting caught, excited to see him, or because once it’s broken it goes haywire from time to time.

              I ignore it all because Colt gives me something to concentrate on.

              When I get to the door I eye the halls to make sure no one’s around before I slide my card and the door clicks open. Colt’s standing there wearing the same thing he did earlier and a smirk that mixes “Cocky Colt” and something I don’t recognize.

              “Don’t give me that look.” I shake my head.

              “The look that says you got down here awful quick?”

              “Who came to who?”

              He shrugs. “I don’t think anyone could blame me. You go

              “Yeah. Make sure you’re quiet. If we get caught, I don’t know you. You’re just some creepy stalker who’s following me up to my room.” I turn to walk away, but Colt grabs my arm.

              “Is your roommate here?”

              I roll my eyes because it’s a little late for him to ask me that. Colt seems to get it because he gives me another smirk and then his lips find mine. I’m squeezed between the wall and his hard body and all I can think is, damn this man can kiss.

              Colt’s hands move to my hips as though he’s trying to hold me in place. I want to tell him I’m not going anywhere, but my mouth is too busy being devoured by his.

              “I have a room for this,” I’m finally able to say when his lips go to my throat.

              “I couldn’t wait. I’ve already been a saint.” He pulls away and I wish I hadn’t said anything at all.

              The rattle of a doorknob sounds from behind us. I grab Colt’s hand and turn down a hall. It’s the long way, but we can still get to my room from here. The risk of getting caught is more likely, but I’m pretty sure no one besides the RA would care.

              This is the only kind of situation where Colt would let me lead him around. We’re not ru

              I turn again, before slipping into a stairwell. We’re both up the stairs and then my head is out a door to make sure no one is in the hall. My room is only three doors down, so we slip out. The second we’re inside his mouth finds mine again.

              My instinct is to stop him. To use the hand I have on his hip and push him away. I mean, give a girl a minute. I haven’t let anyone take advantage of me in a long time, but then I remember this is what I want. He’s not taking advantage of anything. We both want the same thing, so instead of pushing, my hand on his hip pulls him closer.

              Then he pulls away, but he’s still standing so close to me I can feel every part of him. Feel his desire for me. Colt’s breathing’s heaving and I feel the heat of it float across my neck. I’m stuck between asking him why he stopped and feeling slightly glad he did. This is new territory. How do you move forward when your plan is just to hook-up? Do we talk? Just go for it?

              Stop it!

              I hate that feeling—not knowing what to do.  Without knowing it, Colt saves me. “You’re a dancer.”

              I’m wondering how he knew, but then I remember the pictures on the dresser. Me and the girls on my dance team in high school. We’d just won state.

              “I am.”

              “Holy shit, I’m fucking around with a cheerleader.” Colt laughs.

              “I’m not a cheerleader, I’m a dancer. And who cares if I was?”

              Colt looks at me, steps back far enough that his eyes trace every single spot on my body. I shiver.

              “You’re right. Why am I complaining?”

              He steps closer again. So close. Holy shit, he’s gorgeous. I’m smarter than to tell him that though. His jean are slightly baggy like they always are, his legs on either side of me. His hands are on my hips, the finger of his right hand teasing the skin under my shirt.

“How’s your mom?” I ask. It feels right—talking to someone in a situation like this. I think. I don’t want to get too close to him, but I’m actually nervous and I’m not sure how to stop it. Talk or kiss? I know which one sounds like more fun.

              He tenses just a little. “I don’t want to talk about my mom. Do you?”

              I shake my head because he’s right. Talking is overrated.

              Colt pulls off his shirt, hooks one of his fingers through mine and backs up. “Which bed?”

              Oh, he’s good. He’s definitely done this before. I laugh because had this been a different situation. If I wanted more and he wasn’t so completely different from me, I could see how a girl could lose her head around him.

              “Something fu

              “The one on the right,” I say rather than answer.

              Colt lies on my bed and pulls me down behind him. I expect him to go for my clothes, but instead he kisses me again.

              “Blanket,” I mutter, between kisses.

              “If you’re cold I’m doing something wrong.”

              “What if my roommate comes home?”

              “Wuss,” he teases, but grabs the blanket and pulls it over us. I don’t know why I needed it yet. It’s not like we’re undressed, but I somehow feel safer—like we’re not as laid bare as we were before.

              I’m not sure if I mean clothes either.