“Yeah, Lit class. I finish at midday. Wanna meet then?”
I do a little jig of joy in my sister’s living room, complete with fist pumping. “Yeah, sure.”
“See you then, pretty girl,” he says warmly, and it’s official.
This boy will be my downfall.
It turns out my sister is leaving again today to spend time with Griffin, so she’s grateful I’m staying, and I’m pleased it worked out so well.
Even if my stomach is all twisted up with nerves. I feel like a schoolgirl on her first day at school, or a virgin at her first sight of a dick.
Yeah. That bad. I mean, I had sex with the guy. Brutal, savage, great sex. Oh God… I’m wet and horny just thinking about it, and I smooth down my short skirt for the twentieth time. I admit I took my time dressing this morning, for him.
Do I want him to take me that way again? Is that why I settled on a skirt like last time?
Is that even a question? That was hot.
Oh boy, I’m so nervous.
It’s the first time he’ll meet me as myself. Cosima. Not Sophie. This time he knows I’m not his classmate, not the girl he often saw around campus.
I’m the Other Girl.
Moment of truth. I wipe my hands on my sides, scan the length of the building, then the building across. I hope it’s the right one. He explained where it was, but what if I made a mistake? Should I text him?
No, no way.
He’s late.
He’s not coming. I knew it, I knew it. This is nuts. I’ve put my life on hold for my mother, my ex, my sister and now for him.
Okay, calm down. Stop.
I force myself to breathe in, breathe out. It’s the same feeling of panic I always got when Mom didn’t come home night after night, when the neighborhood kids called me names, when my sister called me a year ago for the first time to tell me she needed my help.
I don’t know why this, with him, should feel as important, why it should cause such a reaction in me.
He’s not all that late yet. He said he’ll be there. Don’t run, Cos. Don’t you dare run.
Don’t you dare.
“Cosima!”
Heart pounding against my ribs, I turn. That’s his voice. His broad-shouldered form appears, coming from the building across, the winter sun glinting on his short hair.
He’s so much larger than in my mind’s eye, taller, more muscular, that square jaw so firm and masculine. Then again in my memory he’s either fucking me or bleeding out in weird nightmares, so I can’t trust them.
But here he is, heading toward me, safe and sound, generous mouth tilting in one of those bright smiles of his.
Catching me off guard, like every time.
Catching me straight in the heart.
“So you’re Cosima,” he says a little breathlessly, still smiling, looking like a young Chris Hemsworth as he approaches me, messenger bag slung over one shoulder, a T-shirt that says ‘Come at me, midnight black,’ stretched over his strong torso, those big earphones hanging around his neck.
You know what they say about a guy with big earphones… ha.
“That’s me. Cos.”