A Kiss Like This (Kiss and Make Up #3)(68)

I sit up with him still inside me, gingerly stroking my fingers lovingly across his strong jaw and gazing down at him in satisfied wonderment.

And that’s…

Well.

That’s when the door flies open.





Caleb

“Dude. What the… f*ck? Holy shit. Dude.” Cubby stands in the doorway as my bedroom door ricochets against the wall, staring down at the bed. “I didn’t know you had company, bro.”

“Get the f*ck out, jackoff!” I roar as Abby chokes out a horrified squeak. She scrambles frantically for the blankets but is still impaled on my now flaccid dick, so it’s basically the most f*cking awkward position I’ve ever had the misfortune to be in.

Her hands quickly cup her naked breasts, her face and neck turning red and covered with a bright rash.

“Wow, Showtime, she’s got a great rack.” Cubby’s eyes roam Abby’s creamy skin approvingly, and I all but throw her off me so I can climb out of bed and beat the ever-loving piss out of my roommate.

I look around for my pants, pointing furiously toward the door. “Get your f*cking eyes off my girlfriend’s tits and get the f*ck out, now.”

“Dude, I was giving her a compliment.” He continues to stand in the doorway, immobile, captivated by the free porno show. “I stopped by to see if you’re going to the rink tonight.”

Why is he still standing there?

I am seething through clenched teeth. “I’m going to beat the shit out of you.”

Cubby’s eyebrows shoot up into his hairline. “Bro, why are you yelling? You’re the one who didn’t lock your door. How am I supposed to know you’re in here having sexual relations?”

Abby disappears beneath the covers, burrowing herself deep as another voice joins the party, chanting, “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” over and over.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Miles halts next to Cubby, clearly on his way to the gym, keen eyes focused on the lump in my blankets. “You got someone in there with you, buddy? Don’t tell me. Let me guess…” He taps a finger on his chin. “Brielle from the Campus IT Help Desk?”

Arrogant prick.

“You idiot, it’s Abby. I caught them boning,” Cubby tells him matter-of-factly, like Miles is the idiot here.

“No shit it’s Abby.” Miles rolls his eyes. “I could hear him moaning her f*cking name last night.” He gives me an appraising look and adjusts the duffle bag draped across his shoulder. “Good for you, man.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose between my thumb and index fingers, and calmly exhale. “Close the door and get out.”

Miles ushers Cubby out into the hall, closing the door behind him. “You might want to check the lock next time, bro!” he yells from the other side of the door, giving the solid wood a few raps with his knuckle.

I sit on the edge of the bed, sheet wrapped around my waist, and fall back onto the bed, reaching behind me to tap the maniacally giggly lump in the center of my bed.

“You think that was funny?”

“No!” Her head pops out from under my white sheets, dark hair falling around her bare shoulders in sheets. “Th-this is hysterical l-laughter. I can’t h-help it. This only happens when I’m stressed out or terribly nnervous.”

“Are you going to be okay? Do you… need anything?”

“No, I’ll be fine. It could have been worse, I guess.” Abby hiccups. “At least I didn’t start crying.”

“Uh, yeah. I’m going to pummel their faces in. But don’t worry, I’ll make it look like an accident.”

She blinks at me and leans forward, placing a kiss upside down on my Adam’s apple. “You should really go and… throw that thing out.”

“Oh shit!” I jump up and race naked to the bathroom.

I toss the condom in the garbage and rinse my hands, bracing both hands on the counter as I stare in the mirror at my reflection and take an inventory of myself that I haven’t done in a long time. Dark eyes that aren’t scowling, eyebrows relaxed, mouth in an upturned line for the first time in f*cking forever.

For once, I feel carefree and young.

I run the sink again and splash cold water on my face, toweling off my neck and chest before wrapping a terrycloth bath towel around my narrow hips.

For the hell of it, I splash some cologne on my neck before walking back into my bedroom, and call me crazy, but I was fully expecting and hoping to see Abby still sprawled out in the center of my big bed.

Instead, she’s standing in my gray cotton tee shirt, next to my dresser, hand extended in front of her, two delicate fingers grasping her gold ring.

Oh shit. Oh f*cking shit.

Her ring.

“What are you doing with this?” She holds it out high, eyebrows curved in a patronizing arch, bare foot tapping on my cold, hardwood floor. “Care to explain?” Her lips are pursed tight, and her other hand is on her hip.

“I…”

She stares at me impassively, waiting.

My palms go out in front of me, beseeching. “Abby, let me explain.”

Still nothing.

“I meant to give it back.”

“When, Caleb?” Tears form in the corner of her eyes, and she swipes them away angrily. “When you saw me pawing the ground on my hands and knees? Or when I told you about it that day you walked me home. Answer me.”