We weren’t like other college students.
Normal would be nice, but that wasn’t us. It would never be us.
And if she wanted normal, she needed to get out now before it was impossible for her to leave.
Then again, it was probably already too late.
Ash knew it.
I knew it.
I wondered if Claire did, or if she just fell for Ash’s damn charm so hard that she had no idea there would be consequences for wanting a six-pack, dimples, and multiple orgasms all in one package.
I swung my bag over my shoulder, went into the History building, and found my seat at the back of the class.
I smelled her first.
That smell haunted me night and day.
Sometimes it was vanilla; other times, it was sweet like pineapple, but with a spice that made me clench my fists together, made my blood heat to ridiculous temperatures as I remembered all the times she was mine.
And all the reasons why she no longer was.
Shit. I was going to have no time outs for the next two weeks.
No escape.
Just her and her scent and her hate-filled eyes when people were looking, only to look so damn sad when they weren’t that I didn’t know what to believe anymore.
“Surprised you’re not skipping,” I said, not glancing up from my phone.
Her chair turned toward me.
I lifted my gaze.
Her face was still a bit bruised, but her expert makeup covered up the worst of it. Faint purple smudges were present beneath her eye, but she was still gorgeous. A queen among men.
Her ribs were probably still sore, and I knew the reason she was wearing her Eagle Elite jacket when she hated wearing it with her uniform because, according to her, it hid her best assets.
Her ass and boobs.
I could attest to them being impressive.
Okay, fine, more than impressive. Out of this world. Nixon and Trace bred a fucking supermodel for a child.
“Yeah, well, one more missed class…” She winced like talking hurt. “…and I fail; I told Dad to get me out of it since I have to suffer next to you, but he said no.”
I sneered. “Poor pretty little princess, you mean Daddy said no? To you? I’m absolutely shocked.”
Her blue eyes narrowed into tiny slits. “Says the guy who got a new car because, and I quote, ‘the tech was just all wrong.’”
“I was sixteen,” I said defensively. “And for that expensive of a car, it was all wrong.”
“Whatever. I’m just saying I’m not the only spoiled one. What are you going to do without your mom to make you your lunches, pat you on the head when you get a scratch, and tuck you in bed at night? Oh, and before I forget, we’re all out of mac and cheese.”
Ignoring her, I leaned forward, whispering in a low voice, “You offering to do all of the above, Serena? Because I think I’d like to see you on your knees—kissing every place that hurts.”
She smiled wide, shocking me a bit, and then she leaned in and murmured, “I would rather drive this pen through my skull.” The sound of the pen clicking might as well be the gauntlet falling.
I gripped her hand and tugged, and her chair rolled into mine. “Funny, because I don’t remember a time you ever preferred death over my dick.”
Her eyes flashed. “Things change. Plus, I was young, had nothing to compare it to, and now…” She shrugged. “Let’s just say I’m not impressed.”
“Bullshit,” I hissed.
“Oh, please.” She rolled her eyes and jerked her hand away. “We threaten to kill each other, but this, this is what gets you pissed?”
The professor was talking about some worthless shit.
And Serena was staring at me like I had two heads.
My body felt numb and hot, all at the same time. Another guy. There had been another guy? How many guys? She’d slept with someone else?
I couldn’t breathe.
I’d never had a panic attack before, but if this was what it felt like, I think I’d rather run headfirst into a wall. My chest felt tight, my heart hammered way too hard against my chest, and I had trouble swallowing.
I gripped the edge of the table and tried to slow my breathing to no avail.
“Junior?” she asked in a soft voice, reaching out to me in concern.
I stood, grabbed my shit, and left.
I had just made it outside the building when she charged after me and, in typical Serena fashion, threw her bag at my back. “Junior! What the hell is your problem?”
I stumbled forward a bit from the impact but kept walking.
“Are you serious right now?” she shrieked, chasing after me as fast as she could with all her wounds. “Fine,” she yelled louder. “Your dick is huge, best of my life, Junior Nicolasi has a dick of gold—”
“Shut up.” I turned on my heel and gripped her by the good shoulder, my fingers digging in. “Keep talking, and I’m switching arms, and Sergio’s gonna have to stitch you back up again.”