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the fucker who d hurt her when she was fourteen was any clue as to what her life had been like, she
hadn t felt very loved or protected. She d probably been alone a lot.
And yet she read romance novels until the corners were frayed and worn. She still hoped for some
kind of happily ever after.
She was so much like me it was frankly freaky. We were split between two worlds. She was the
frumpy, genius professor hiding romantic hopes and dreams. I was the stud playboy football star
working my ass off to save my poor, broke family. What a pair we made. And what an ass I felt like.
She wasn t just some piece of fruit I wanted to sample because she was forbidden. She was a lot
deeper than I had ever imagined.
Slowly, I reached out until I barely touched her cheek. She sighed in her sleep and rolled onto her
side facing me. When she found my warmth, she snuggled in close. I wound my arms around, hugging
her against me, and she ended up with her cheek on my chest and her arm wrapped around my waist.
It was sweet and comfortable and so damn agonizing to lay with her like that, I ended up kicking
off my shoes and burrowing in, closing my eyes and burying my face in her hair.
We fell asleep wrapped in each other s arms, and I couldn t remember a night I slept so soundly.
CHAPTER THIRETEEN
 Worry never robs tomorrow of its sorrow, but only saps today of its strength. - A.J. Cronin
~ASPEN~
My head felt like it was going to explode.
Rolling toward the heat source that had kept me cozy all night, I curled my legs up, expecting to
find something solid and tangible radiating warmth and shelter. But all my fingers found were cold,
empty sheets. Wrinkling my forehead, I winced when little axes in my head hacked at the interior of
my temples. With a groan, I buried my face further into my pillow to block out the light flooding my
room.
Inhaling a new smell, something spicy and masculine, I breathed in deeply, wondering where such
a lovely scent had originated and what it was doing on my pillow. Until I remembered...
Noel Gamble. In my car. Driving me home. Then Noel Gamble. On my bed. Kissing me. With
tongue. His hand between my legs.
Dear God, I d kissed Noel Gamble and led him straight to my bedroom. I d arched under him and
begged him to Oh, God. This was bad.
Already fearing the worst, I jerked upright, opening my eyes and checking out the other side of my
bed, knowing I d find him there. But when I found nothing but more sheets and a smashed pillow, I
felt disappointed and disheartened.
My head pounded, and I swayed dizzily.
That s when I noticed the glass full of water on the nightstand next to a bottle of aspirin with a
folded sheet of white paper propped against them.
Groaning as my headache roared back to life, I swiped up the note
 There ain t no sin and there ain t no virtue. There s just stuff people do. - John Steinbeck (From
The Grapes of Wrath).
Hey. I just wanted you to know you did nothing wrong last night, and there is no reason to regret
anything that happened...like I know you are. But don t sweat it. We could have done so much more. I
know the right thing to do now is probably apologize for not stopping you immediately when you
drunk kissed me. Except I m not sorry at all. It was...amazing. Really, don t sweat it. Everything will
be okay. Just take care of yourself. Drink the whole glass of water and don t take more than three
pills. If you need anything, call.
N. G.
I soaked in his phone number he d scribbled in at the bottom of the page, memorizing it even as I
commanded my eyes to look away.
But, oh wow, he d left me a sweet, considerate letter. And his words actually worked. The panic
I d been experiencing a split second after waking up unwillingly drained from my system.
We hadn t done anything that bad after all. Or had we and he just wanted to sugarcoat it? Shit, I
couldn t remember much of what had happened, but Noel seemed to think we were still in the clear,
so I refused to get worried.
Except all day long, little puzzle pieces of my memory kept returning, reminding me of some of the
things I d said to him. I seriously couldn t believe I d squeezed his arm at the bar and asked if women
liked to clutch his muscles while he had sex with them. No, I must ve dreamed that one up. I don t
care how wasted I d been, I would never say
Oh, God. I had, hadn t I? This was so horrifying. How was I supposed to show my face in class
again? How could I even step foot on campus?
As Sunday progressed, I kept biting my fingernails and glancing at the phone, just knowing some
university administrator was going to call and fire me. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]