Roughing

“I want to believe that, Bash, I do. But so many things have happened in the past that make it hard for me to believe we won’t have a similar situation like last time.”

He cups my face in his big hands, his expression even more serious this time. “I can’t promise that girls won’t throw themselves at me or show up unannounced. That will happen for a while. It will probably always happen. But what I can promise is that I will not act upon any of the offers. I have never wanted another girl more than I want you, Tori. I even have the ink on my shoulder to prove it. Do you think I would have gotten that tattoo if I wasn’t all in the first time around?”

Overcome with emotion, my eyes get a little watery, and I try to fight off the tears.

“Where was this version of Sebastian Prince two years ago?” I mutter, choking on my words.

“I’ve always been this guy, at least with you. But so many things had gotten in the way.”

“I should have heard you out instead of running away,” I say, feeling somewhat guilty for not giving him a chance back then.

“I wish you did. But we have right now, and we have our future together. Just give this a chance. If you get scared, come to me. Don’t put up your defenses. I can’t handle it again.”

Why does he have to be so perfect all the damn time? It’s no surprise that I fell in love with him years ago, and I am falling for him all over again. One weekend. I always knew that was all it would take for me to go running back to him. And that was why I stayed away and avoided him any chance I got.

“Kiss me,” I say, unable to catch my breath. “I need you to kiss me, Bash.”

He does as I instruct, rubbing my jaw with his thumb, as his tongue slips inside my mouth, tangling with mine.

One kiss. One look. One sexy smirk. That was all it had ever taken for me to melt, like a piece of chocolate on a hot summer day. Bash was always my weakness, but maybe this time, he will be my strength. I hope that I am wrong about him and that he’s the good guy hidden inside the body of a football god.

“We had better get in the shower if you want to make it to class on time,” he says, against my lips.

“No time for a shower.” I glance over at the clock, shocked by how many minutes have passed since the first alarm.

Bash helps me out of bed and kisses me one last time before he bends down to retrieve his shirt from the floor. The muscles in his back flex, drawing my attention to his body and every single curve and valley. He’s the perfect man in so many ways, especially in those that count most.

I could never resist the urge to lunge myself at him, which is what had gotten me into trouble with him in the first place. The sexual chemistry between us has always been off the charts hot. Our relationship started with sexy banter that turned into so much more in a short period. I was under his spell. He not only controlled my body but my mind and heart. I was his in every way possible. And he knew it.

Things between us are different now. I lived without him and so I know I d

on’t need him in my life. Not in the way I needed him years ago. His betrayal, or what I thought was his betrayal, was what sent me over the edge. It was what landed me in Friends Hospital for psychiatric evaluation.

That night destroyed a part of me that I never thought I would get back. I never knew it was possible to hit so many highs and lows with one man until I hit the lowest point of them all. I wanted it to be over. I wanted the pain of losing him to go away. The doctor had said I was lucky. He was right.

Everything was falling back into place until that football hit me in the face. Now, my entire world has been turned upside down again. Bash had the power to hurt me in the past. But I will not allow him that much control in the future. I shouldn’t have given in to him. His sexual appeal, manly scent, and the feelings of our past were too much for me to bear. And so I allowed myself to fall back into old habits.

We get dressed in a hurry and leave my suite, holding hands as if we do this every morning. What we have works. He squeezes my hand tighter, showing everyone in the hallway we pass that we are together. This is our official declaration, and it continues once we step outside Jefferson Hall.

Heads turn when we reach the Quad and Bash stops dead in his tracks, bringing both of us to a halt. He kisses me on the lips, a soft peck that doesn’t last long but does the trick.

“I have to stop by my house and get my books. I’ll see you later, okay?”

I smile as he swipes a strand of hair from my face and tucks it behind my ear. “Can’t wait.”

His fingers slip from mine, and he begins to walk away but stops himself. “Later, beautiful.”

I give him a tiny wave. “Later.”

Turning on my heel, I don’t bother to stay and watch him walk away. My heart hurts with each step I take further away from him. Was this weekend real? I pinch myself to double check. Bash and I are together. Again. We’re doing this. Boyfriend and girlfriend, just like old times. The smile plastered on my face stays there until I reach Lincoln Hall.

Then it occurs to me that I have zero makeup on my face and the same cut off jeans shorts and tank top I wore yesterday. What the hell is wrong with me? I look like such a dirtball, and yet Bash wasn’t embarrassed to be seen with me. That alone surprises me.

He also stayed with me at my worst and helped to nurse me back to health. I still have some of a dull headache from this morning. The side effects of the concussion are still somewhat present, although fading. I’m tired, and after sleeping a few hours, I have no idea how I am going to make it through this test.

Doing math equations at this hour had sounded better before I allowed Bash back into my life. Now, I wish I’d chosen a later class. I had dropped the one I was supposed to take with Bash. Now, I would do anything to get back into it.

When I walk into the hall, students occupy half of the seats. I choose my usual desk in the back aisle, set my bag on the chair next to me, and pull out a notepad and pen before settling into my seat.