Promise Me This(48)

“We . . . kissed,” I mumbled. “A lot.”

Her hand slammed over her mouth to hold in her shocked giggle.

“How was it?”

I sighed. “It was really good.”

“Are you afraid it’s going to be awkward between you now?”

“Kind of yeah, so please don’t say anything.”

“Of course not,” she said. “But do you think you and Nate might do it again?”

“This is Nate we’re talking about,” I said, nearly cringing at the words. “He doesn’t repeat hookups, you know that.”

“Yeah, but he also hasn’t had the Jessie effect before.”

“The Jessie effect?”

“Kissing an amazingly cool, strong and beautiful girl with tattoos,” she said. “The Jessie effect. How many guys have had their tongues wagging for you?”

I shook my head and grinned. Didn’t I wish it were that easy?

“I’m out of here.” Emmy waved and headed out the door.





Chapter Twenty-two


Nate



I sat in my Structural Analysis class not hearing a word the professor had said in the past thirty minutes, which was really going to suck for my upcoming test.

Instead, I had my notebook open to a blank page where I’d been doodling and daydreaming. Drawing scaled-down versions of bridges. The bridges from last weekend. The view from up top and then one from down below.

I drew the letters in Jessie’s name within the framework of one of the bridges then outlined them over and over, practically tearing into the paper.

Ever since the weekend, I’d been so drummed up, not knowing what to do with all the restless energy inside of me. But when I sketched, I pooled all of my energy into one pinpoint of focus and my brain was able to settle down.

All week long, I couldn’t stop remembering how I felt so goddamn free, open, absolved. And then afterward, so terrified, removed, withdrawn. Fuck.

I just hoped that when Jessie and I saw each other again, it would feel normal between us. My fingers hovered over my phone’s touchscreen many times trying to think of something I could say to her. Just normal words. Something joking or funny. To get us back to where we’d been.

When class was over, I crossed the walkway to the student center. My next class wasn’t for another couple of hours, so I wanted to grab a sandwich and then head to the rock-climbing wall at the indoor gym to give my twitchy muscles a workout.

I grabbed a coffee with my bacon and egg bagel and searched for a place to sit. As my eyes swung around the room, a sign caught my eye that I probably would’ve never noticed had it not been for Jessie. It said, STUDENT WELLNESS AND COUNSELING CENTER, THIRD FLOOR. It listed all the services it offered, including yoga classes and free counseling sessions.

I noted the room number and found a table. As I ate my sandwich and studied my notes, I heard someone call my name. A girl named Erin approached my table. She had been in one of my classes and we’d hooked up a couple of months ago.

“Nate, hi,” she said in a timid voice. “Long time no see.”

I remembered our encounter one night at a frat party. Both of us tipsy, we agreed to head upstairs to one of the empty bedrooms.

On our way up she passed her group of friends, one of whom had whispered something loud enough for me to hear. Twenty bucks if you get some tongue.

I didn’t know what she meant at the time, but now I remember that the sex had been fast and decent and that I’d used my hands to get her off. What Jessie had said about my reputation suddenly made perfect sense.

Sex with this Erin—any girl I’d been with—lacked the fire and the spark I had with Jessie. During my encounter with the girl standing in front of me, I had gotten off thinking of tying her up.

With Jessie? I got the real thing.

My dick already lengthening from thoughts of Jessie, I stood up, and began clearing my table. “Hey nice seeing you again. But I’ve got an appointment I need to get to.”

I rushed past her, taking the stairs two at a time to try to squash my urges, and found myself on the third floor.

The door to the Wellness and Counseling Center was directly in front of me and I noted how busy it looked inside. I pretended to study the fliers on the wall outside the entrance, which explained different disorders like depression and anxiety. Jessie had told me that her mother worked at a center that provided Reiki and chakra, but those words sounded foreign to my ears as well.

“Nate.” As if materializing from my very thoughts, Jessie stood at the counseling center door. The first thing I noticed was that her hair was different. It was auburn with some streaks of pink near the front, which made her hazel eyes stand out.

“You changed your hair,” I said. Jessie was always experimenting with different colors, so that was nothing new. But I liked her brunette locks best.