I hang up the phone, pull the sheets over my head, and try desperately to fill the craving I have for Miles.
I fail.
* * *
The week is a blur of textbooks and tests. By Friday afternoon, the only thing I want is the sweet embrace of my sheets. I need a million hours of sleep.
The elevator is all the way on the top floor, so I take the stairs to my apartment. Every step is pure agony.
And there he is, the only thing better than those million hours of sleep. Miles is leaning against my door, his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, his lips pursed like there's something right on the tip of his tongue.
"You survived." He smiles.
I nod.
"I bet you'd like to celebrate that."
"Okay."
"If that's not a problem for you."
"I can clear my schedule." I fish my keys out of my backpack, open the apartment, and pull Miles inside with me.
The room is a verifiable mess. Paper everywhere, clothes strewn over the floor, dishes piled in the sink.
Miles shakes his head. "I like what you've done with the place."
"Thank you. I'm trying something new with the dishes. And the laundry. And the shower."
"Dirty girl."
My lips curl into a smile. "Not quite yet." I toss my backpack on the ground. "How long were you waiting?"
"Not long." He runs his fingertips over my chin, tilting my head so he's peering right into my eyes. "But it would've been worth waiting longer."
"And what is it you're waiting for?"
He presses his lips into mine. His hands slide into my hair as his tongue swirls around mine. The kiss breaks and he pulls back. "That."
My heart thumps against my chest. I've ignored my body for days. It's time to give it a little attention.
His fingers skim my wrists. "I've been thinking about you all week."
Okay, it's time to have some fun. I tease him. "I'm been thinking about midterms all week."
He pulls his shirt over his head. "What are you thinking about now?"
"There was this angular velocity question."
"Are you only in science classes?"
I trace the lines of his chest. "Who's thinking about midterms now?"
He pulls me onto the bed. The gesture is messy. I slip and land on my side. He shakes his head like he's going to punish me.
"You think you're clever?" he asks.
"Absolutely."