The Perfect First (Fulton U, #1)(15)

But tonight, it wasn’t math on my mind. It wasn’t a complex theorem that would make most people cry. It was the guys who’d sat across from me that afternoon.

Graham was attractive, seemed nice, and was interested. He was the safe choice. Maybe that was why Reece kept coming back to me. He’d most likely say no; he hadn’t even been there to respond to the ad anyway. Talk about embarrassing. Looking back on that conversation now, I did the full scarlet-cheeked scene replay in my head. I’d asked him how big his penis was. That should have been enough for me to never want to see his face again, but thoughts of his eyes and lips kept pushing their way back into my mind, shoving the sensible thoughts away.

And if he said no, what was lost? I could definitely ask Graham. The probability of the experience being acceptable was high—well, as high as anything could be when human nature was involved. The front door opened and closed. I wished Alexa was someone I could talk to about this, maybe pop some popcorn, make some drinks, and chat about it while painting our nails or watching a movie and getting her advice on what I should do.

I sat on the edge of my bed and took down my hair. The braids were an old habit. In the old black and white movies my dad watched, the women always had intricate braids, or maybe I’d just seen Heidi a few too many times. I’d spent hours in my room when I was tired of reading or didn’t feel like turning in another equation and had taught myself how to do it so my mom didn’t have to anymore.

Maybe that was why I embraced it so much. It was something I’d done for myself. Math, violin—everything else in my life had been foisted on me by someone else, but my dumb, way-too-intricate braids were all mine. Taking out the bobby pins, I dropped them into the little ceramic bowl on my desk, each tink a satisfying noise as my hair got heavier, falling down around my shoulders. Threading my fingers through it, I brushed it out and stared at myself in the mirror.

Alexa’s heels clicked on the floor. I looked at my open door through the mirror behind me, and she appeared in the doorway. “I have friends coming over tonight.” Without another word, she wrapped her fingers around the doorknob and closed it behind her. Her message was clear. Sometimes I felt like she was the evil stepsister and I was Cinderella. The braid thing probably didn’t help.

After changing into my pajamas, I walked out toward the kitchen to grab some juice—my little act of defiance. The second my foot hit the floor in the living room, everything went silent. I could feel their eyes on me, boring into my back. Taking my time, I grabbed my glass, filled it from the carton in the fridge, and walked back down the hallway.

The second I was in the shadow of the hall, they came back to life again like someone had hit the unmute button. I had thought I would find a lot more kindness and warmth once I left my house, but that had been my own naivety. I was ready to shed that side of myself. Start making real choices. Taking real leaps. Which meant there was only one possible choice.





6





Reece





The driving pounding of death was being hammered into my head. We didn’t have a game until the following week, so Berk and LJ had decided to celebrate our win one more time—with shots. I cracked my door open, and the creaks might as well have been nails straight into my brain. I braced my hands on the wall and walked down the steps.

Plastic cups littered the stairs and the place reeked of stale beer. Nasty. I stepped over one of the guys from the team who’d crashed on the stairs. Two people slept on the couches. Coach was going to kill us if we were late to practice at ten.

I made it to the kitchen and gingerly opened the cabinet where the oversized bottle of ibuprofen lived. Shaking out a few pills, I turned on the faucet and cupped my hand, filling it with water. Dropping the pills into my mouth, I gulped them down.

Resting my head on the cupboard, I groaned and wished for death. This was what happened when you didn’t have a drink for a while. Since the season had started, I’d stuck to one or two, but the previous night I’d really gone for it.

Maybe it was trying to drown out the thoughts of what a possible virgin on campus might be doing trying to finally lose her V-Card. Why did I even care what she was up to? If I hadn’t sat at that booth, I would have been none the wiser and would’ve avoided the whole thing. Instead, every time my thoughts had drifted to her, I’d done another shot. It was a hell of a lot of shots, and now my brain was kicking my ass for being so damn stupid.

Closing my eyes, I breathed through the pain when the shrill chirp of my phone went off. I peeled one eye open and dragged back the curtains above the sink. It was nearly the ass-crack of dawn. Who the hell would be calling this early?

I’d just made it to the bottom of the steps when my phone rocketed down the staircase and missed my face by an inch. My hand shot out and I caught it.

“Thanks, Nix.”

He flipped me the double bird, yawned, and slammed his door.

The phone came alive in my hand. I jabbed at the screen. “Hello?”

There was a long pause. I pulled the phone away from my face to make sure I hadn’t dropped the call.

“Reece Michaels?”

“Yes.” Had I applied for a bank loan? The cool, professional tone on the other end of the line made me feel like I might be called in for an interview somewhere.

“I know you probably don’t remember me. It was kind of a strange first interaction, and I completely understand.” The rambling and tight way she spoke totally gave her away.