Boyfriend Bargain (Hawthorne University #1)(42)

“No, it’s fine. I was into the tearing of the clothes. I think you lost a button on your jacket.” She shakes her head, her fingers running through her hair. “I can’t find my underwear.”

I pick them up and hand them to her, my hand trailing down her arm, itching to lace our hands together. I want her close. I can’t explain it.

But…

Something isn’t right.

“Hey, what’s going on?” I ask, and she stops, looking at me then dropping her gaze.

“This…” Her voice trails off as she motions between us with her hands.

“What about this?” I’m sliding my jeans up and buttoning them. Snatching my shirt off the floor, I slip it back on and then rake a hand through my hair, straightening it although I know there’s no fixing it. I pick up the jacket and hold it out to her. “You’ll need this.”

“No.” Her blue eyes are big as she darts them around the garage as if looking for answers there. “Look, I’m not sure this was…” She stops, chewing on her lips.

My mouth tightens.

“Babe, what’s to regret? What’s wrong with seeing what this is? It’s good, right?”

She flushes, the color rising from her throat up to her face. “I’ve told you before—don’t call me babe. My ex did—”

I go from sated to annoyed to pissed off. “Who is this asshole? That Bennett guy Lola mentioned? Fuck him. I’m not him.”

There’s a hesitant look on her face as she opens her mouth to speak but doesn’t. Instead, she paces around the garage, her dress swishing around her long legs.

I’m scared she’s going to leave and I move with her, turning her around to face me. “Wait, Sugar. Look, I—I just had mind-blowing sex and you immediately regret it and bring him up to me. How do you expect me to react?”

She bites her bottom lip. “Not everything is about you, Z. I have a history with my ex, okay? I don’t want to get hurt. You…you have girls all over you, all the time, just like he did.”

I inhale. “Right. Next time, I won’t call you babe. Hell, I’ll never call anyone that ever again. Will that make you happy, girl of the month?”

“Now you’re just being an asshole.” Her face is pale as she rubs at her cheeks.

“We both knew this would happen. Right?” I’m grappling for words here. Shit, I don’t know how to handle a girl who’s so…closed off after sex. Where’s the giddiness in her that I feel? Where’s the need to do it again, as soon as possible? Fuck. Maybe…maybe I read her all wrong and she just isn’t into me. No. I know this is good. I knew it at the Kappa party.

“We were supposed to keep this unemotional,” she says quietly.

“I don’t even care about that bullshit bargain. This is about you and me.”

“It’s not bullshit to me.” Her voice is flat.

I look up to the ceiling, sighing. “We’ll go to my room and figure this out, okay? If you’re lucky, I’ll fuck you again. You don’t seem to have an issue as long as my dick’s inside you.” I’m teasing, completely joking, trying to lighten up what is getting to be an out-of-control moment, but it’s a crap thing to say and maybe there’s a small part of me that’s scared too, and when I get nervous, my mouth says shit I don’t mean.

Her nose flares and she shakes her head at me. “I’m leaving.”

“The hell you are. You’re supposed to be here with me.”

“No. I’m here for me, Z.” She gives me a disappointed look and marches out the door.

My heart flops around in my chest. What the fuck just happened? Goddamn.

She…she left me.





21





Sugar





I bolt out into the yard and head for my car, sans shoes and coat. At least my little sequined crossbody purse is draped across my chest. I huff out a laugh that really isn’t a laugh but more like a what in the hell just happened and what am I going to do now sound.

I feel tears welling up and I fight to keep them at bay.

I wouldn’t put it past Zack to chase after me—I’ve never met a more determined person—so I pull up the hem of my dress and jog, which isn’t such a bad idea anyway considering it’s cold as hell. I’m insane to be running barefoot across a street in Minnesota at the end of January with no jacket on. Thank goodness we’re having unnaturally warm weather, a balmy thirty-three degrees. My feet are chunks of ice as I reach my truck, crawl inside, and crank it up. I sit here, my head resting against the steering wheel, letting the heat kick in before I take off.

My throat feels tight and I want to cry, but I clench my fists, determined to not give in.

Z and I just blew up at each other.

Why?

What the hell just happened?

Why are we so combustible?

Why am I so upset?

Why do I want to go back to him and see where we went wrong?

You can’t, my inner voice says, and I hunch over. I think about the girls there tonight, the ones I can’t compete with. What if…what if I fall for him?

Fuck.

A tear courses down my face, and I grimace as more fall. Wetness tracks down my cheeks, and I close my eyes and put my face in the stream of hot air that’s blowing from the dash.