Hazed (Palm South University)

“That should help in the morning,” Jarrett says.

“Thank you. I already feel better.”

He smiles. “Good.”

Jarrett stands then, adjusting the trashcan closer to the bed just in case before he heads toward the door to see himself out.

Except when he gets there, he stops.

Even through my drunken haze, I can see how white his knuckles are where they grip the door handle, how labored his breathing is as he stands there at the precipice, but doesn’t walk all the way out.

“Jarrett?”

“I got your text that night, you know,” he says suddenly, turning to face me with his nostrils flaring. “When you said you’d always love me.”

I swallow, eyes wide open now, and I scoot myself to sit upright in my bed, clothing the sheets to my chest.

Suddenly, I feel very, very sober.

“You did?”

He nods. “I texted you back, but I take it you had already blocked me, because I kept getting a notification that the text couldn’t be delivered.”

I breathe in.

I breathe out.

In the darkness of my room, the lights from the city are the only thing illuminating where Jarrett’s silhouette is still framed in my doorway.

“What did you say?”

He swallows, crossing the room to sit on the edge of the bed again. I can see his eyes now, even if faintly, and I can see the pain in them when he whispers, “I said I’d always love you, too.”

I bite my bottom lip to keep it from quivering, and I want to slap myself across the face for the way my heart jolts at his admission.

“And did you mean it?” I ask softly.

He blows out a long breath through his nose, shaking his head, and then he leans in, closer, closer, until his forehead is pressed against mine. His warm hand wraps around the back of my neck, fingers sliding into my hair.

I suck in a sip of air and hope it’s enough to sustain me, because it’s impossible to breathe now.

“I did,” he whispers, his warm breath washing over my lips. “I still do.”

I can’t hold back the whimper that escapes me then, and I squeeze my eyes shut as Jarrett’s hand squeezes the back of my neck.

“Jarrett, I—”

“I know,” he says, pulling back so suddenly I nearly fall off the bed at the loss of his warmth. He stands just as quickly, shaking his head and clearing his throat. “It’s too late. I know. I fucked up and I lost my chance, and now you’re with Kade.”

I open my mouth to say something, but find I have nothing more to say than what he just did, so I swallow and close my lips once more.

“And I’m happy for you,” he says. “I am. My brother is one hell of a guy, and I know he’ll treat you right.”

Again, I’m speechless. Even with a million thoughts racing in my head, I have nothing to say.

“I’m sorry if I… I shouldn’t have…” He shakes his head, and then with one last glance at me, he nods toward the door. “I’m going to head out. Goodnight, Jess.”

But I just sit there with the sheets clutched to my heart, eyes dry from not blinking, stomach cramping for a completely different reason now.

I think he’s already downstairs and in his truck by the time I finally respond.

“Goodnight.”

“MMM, THAT’S NICE,” I murmur as Kade plants little kisses all down my stomach.

My hands slip into his hair when he starts kissing along my panty line, and I bite my lip, thighs clenching together as my pussy tingles and longs for him again. This is now the fifth time this week that he’s come over — the most since the semester started — and each and every time, we’ve spent nearly all our time together in my bed.

I’m not complaining.

Kade slides his fingers under the band of my panties, lifting up onto his knees long enough to drag them off my legs before he’s settled back in. He props my thighs up on his shoulders, hands gripping where my leg meets my hip, and then he drags the flat of his hot, wet tongue along my swollen clit.

“Fuck,” I hiss, arching into the touch.

“Goddamn, Jess, you taste so good.”

Another moan leaves me as I twist my hands in the sheet, and I close my eyes, reveling in the way his expert mouth knows just how to lick and kiss and suck me.

The morning after Kade got back from Spring Break, he was at my door, and he spent the duration of the day showing me just how much he missed me. It was a welcome release, especially after the weird, drunken, hazy night I’d had with Jarrett.

Who hasn’t talked to me since, thank God.

It’s not that I’m not happy he’s back, even if I never expected to see him again. I weirdly like that we’ve found a friendship. But God, that boy confuses me. And when he’s around, it’s like stepping into a time machine and going back to how we used to be.