Bring Down the Stars

I sank down on the grass at our usual lunchtime spot in front of the Admin building. “Will you hush? Half the campus heard you.”

“Oh, who cares?” Ruby said. “You did the deed with Connor Drake. You should be singing it from the rooftops.” She made a face. “Unless it was bad.” Her eyes widened. “Was it bad? Oh my God, it was bad.”

“Not at all,” I said. “He’s very…skilled.”

She sighed in relief. “And here you were, ready to dump his cute ass. Must’ve been a pretty good reason to get you to jump in the sack instead.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You told me you needed a better reason to fuck him, other than he’s hot.”

“Oh, right.”

“So?”

The cool October breeze swept over us. I wrapped my cardigan around me more tightly and tucked my legs underneath me. I wore black pants and flats, but soon enough it would be time for jackets and scarves. The leaves from the trees were already carpeting the ground in sprays of color.

gold, green, and brown—

your namesake captured

in your eyes.

I bit my lip over a smile. “You’re going to think I’m the biggest sap in the world.”

“Too late.”

I plucked at a blade of grass. “He wrote a poem.”

Ruby did a double-take. “Come again? Connor Drake wrote a poem?”

“Yes,” I said. “About me.”

Her expression brightened. “That kind of thing’s right up your alley. You should be over the moon, right?”

“I am,” I said, and sighed. “Or I should be. Instead I feel…I don’t know. Fragile. I can’t do one-night stands and this is exactly why. Sex is so intimate.” I shook my head. “It’s like part of me is still naked. I have to trust he feels it was just as special.”

“How was the morning after?” Ruby asked. “That can be a deal breaker, right there.”

“It was perfect.”

Until I ran into Weston.

Like lightnin

g, it hit me I hadn’t felt fragile or naked about sleeping with Connor until I’d mistakenly put on Weston’s shirt. Or rather, until Weston saw me wearing his shirt. His reaction unsettled me to the core and I couldn’t figure out why.

“Connor did everything right.” I slumped over, covering my hands. “God, I am the queen of overthinking, aren’t I? Why I can’t just enjoy something for what it is?”

“Because you’re a big softy,” Ruby said. “So tell me about this poem.”

“It was simple,” I said. “A little window into a different, deeper layer of him. Feelings and thoughts he doesn’t share with me when we’re together.”

Ruby nodded. “I’m still trying to imagine him writing a poem.”

“Why? Because he’s a jock who drives a sports car?”

“Whoa, put your sword away, Khaleesi,” she said. “And yes, call me a judgmental bitch, but I can’t picture it.”