Boyfriend Bargain (Hawthorne University #1)(43)

After a few seconds, I gather myself together and pull out onto the street. Not wanting to go back to my dismal dorm, I end up driving around Lake Sparrow. I contemplate checking in with Mara, but she’s in work mode at this hour and I don’t want to bug her. Taylor and Poppy…I could call them, but they each had their own thing to do tonight. When midnight looms, I run through the drive-through at the all-night Krispy Kreme—sorry to cheat on you, Joaquin—and go back to the dorm. I could have bought extras earlier when I picked up Eric’s, but I didn’t think about it. I guess I’m jonesing for donuts because I’m sad. Ugh. Someday, I’m going to have to cut back on my treats, but not today. Not today.

I park illegally, near the inner circle where people walk, because I’m shoeless. I drift in through the front door of the lobby and it’s mostly quiet, thank goodness. I don’t want anyone to see what a mess I am right now. The girl behind the desk arches a brow when I pass by and then calls my name.

“Hey, you’re Sugar, right, in 412?”

I plod back over to her. “Yeah?”

She picks up a small vase of daisies and sets them on the counter. I blink down at them and look at her. It’s the third one in a month.

She shrugs. “No card, but a really hot guy with dark hair dropped them off for you. He said he was your boyfriend and wanted to come up to your room, but well, it’s past visiting hours and all, although I was tempted. He’s hot. Nice catch there.”

“He’s not my boyfriend. He’s my ex.”

“Okay.” She shrugs and goes back to her desk.

I exhale and pick up the vase. Fucking Bennett. Now I have two things to carry upstairs. “Thanks.”

I take off for the steps, my feet heavy as I climb the flights up to my floor. Periodically, I pause and look down at the white and yellow flowers.

I glare down at them. Daisies. They aren’t even my favorite, but he always got them for me because he liked them. “They’re glorified weeds,” I say to no one and keep walking. “If you would have just listened to me, Bennett, you’d know I don’t care for pale flowers with no soul.”

Maybe Julia will like them.

Once inside my room, I see that she’s gone. Typical. I set down the bag of sugary fried dough and flowers, glad I have my entire dorm room to myself.

I yank open my dresser to pull out a Boobie Bungalow pink tank and a pair of booty shorts. For once the stupid radiator in the room seems to be working, but there’s no valve so it’s hot as heck. Once the torn dress is off and hung up nice and neat, I pull out a half-full bottle of Grey Goose from the top shelf in my closet and pour a few inches into a plastic cup. From the fridge, I pull out a club soda and a lime. When you’re a girl dealing with a cheating ex and a creaky old dorm room, these are basic tools of survival.

“I’m sorry you got ripped in the crazy sex,” I say to the dress with a little sigh as I plop back down on my bed. I keep a small sewing kit in my desk, and I make a mental note to see if I can fix the tear. If I can’t, I’ll send it to the alterations place across the street from BB’s.

Annoyed and frustrated, I fluff up my pillows, flop down, and turn on HBO.

“Game of Thrones,” I snap into my remote. I need Jon Snow, stat.

I’ve gone through one drink and an entire episode of my re-watch, and I’m at the part where a zombie shows up— Someone bangs on my door.

“Great timing! Almost pissed myself,” I mutter. Setting my drink on my desk next to me, I dash to the door.

“Who is it?”

“Z.”

My stomach clenches. He came after me? I put my hands on my hips. “Shouldn’t you be at the party?”

“I left. Went for a run.” His voice is low.

“But it’s Eric’s birthday.”

I hear a sigh. “The last I looked, Eric was with twins, one on either side of him. He won’t even miss me.”

There’s a long pause.

“Are you going to let me in?”

I chew on my lips. “Not a good idea.”

“Are you afraid we’ll have mind-blowing sex again?”

My teeth snap together. “We shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why not?”

“Because we said we wouldn’t.”

“I knew we would.”

“Well, I thought we were on the same page.”

“We might have been, but then you walked into my house—”

“I have neighbors you know. They tend to listen.”

He lets out a small laugh, but I sense the strain underneath. “Come on, Sugar, let me in.”

But here’s the thing—there is no fixing this, because he’s hot and sexy and even now my body is practically pressed against the door. I have no control. None.

“Plus, I need to give you your shoes and coat. You ran off without them.”

“You ran with my stuff?”

“I wore a backpack—just for you.”

“Fine. Put them by the door.”

A few seconds tick by and I’m wondering, dying to know what he’s doing.

“What’s all the moving around? You still there?”

“Yep. Just sitting down. Not going away until you let me in to apologize.”