The Score (Off-Campus #3)(38)

And that spark comes in the form of one deep thrust from Dean.

My cry of climax is cut short when he claps a hand over my mouth. For someone who just taunted me about putting on a show, he’s suddenly cautious of our surroundings.

I, on the other hand, can’t even remember what continent we’re on. The orgasm races through me and leaves me breathless. I bear down on Dean’s shaft with every uncontrollable shudder, and he gives a barely audible groan and buries his head between my neck and shoulder as he pumps into me from behind.

He wasn’t kidding. He comes so fast I don’t know whether to be impressed or tease him about it. He drives into me one last time and trembles wildly, his hands clamped tight on my hips.

I’m trembling too, but I don’t know if it’s from the orgasmic aftershocks or the frigid breeze on my bare butt.

When loud voices break the silence, I jump away from Dean and shove my dress down to my thighs. A peek behind the dumpster reveals shadowy figures ambling along the sidewalk. Not a single head turns toward the alley.

I pick up my coat and hurriedly put it on as Dean tucks his still-hard cock into his pants. He flicks the condom in the dumpster and gives me a wary look.

“What?” My voice doesn’t sound like my voice. It’s lower. Throatier.

His gaze rakes over me from head to toe before locking with mine. “We’re not done,” he says gruffly.

I bite the inside of my cheek and say, “I know.”





19




Allie


According to Homeless Lou in Brooklyn, whenever you get a déjà vu, it’s simply a glitch that happens when aliens attempt to access your memories. I guess that’s what the little green men are up to now, because holy hell, déjà vu city.

Friday night starts out the same way it did two weeks ago. I leave the fitness center with my gym bag in one hand and my phone in the other. There are three unread messages from Sean waiting for me.

I read them and groan. He really, really needs to talk to me. Crap.

Somehow I’ve successfully managed to avoid seeing him for two weeks. Sex with Dean has served as a great distraction, but tonight I don’t have that luxury. Dean is still at the rink for the Hurricanes game and he has plans with his friend Beau afterward.

I need to decide what to do about Sean. Do I want to talk to him? Is there a point? I’m starting to think our previous breakups didn’t stick because we tried to remain friends afterward. That’s just a bad idea all around. You can’t be friends with an ex, at least not right away. Megan insists that a six-month no-contact period is required before you can even consider it.

Not that Megan is a relationship expert. Last I talked to her, she was still seeing the thirty-seven-year-old doctor but keeps making up excuses for why she can’t meet his daughter. If she can’t communicate with him about her fears and concerns, how is that a recipe for a healthy relationship?

But I should be focusing on my own love life right now. Well, ex love life, because I don’t love Sean McCall anymore. It’s scary how quickly it took for my feelings to fade.

My mother used to say that time heals all wounds. That’s definitely true. The year after she died, just picturing her face would trigger a rush of gut-wrenching pain. Now when I think about her, it still hurts, but in a duller, bittersweet way. I miss her, but I don’t feel the urge to curl up in a ball and cry the day away.

But that’s grief. I thought love would take longer to fade, which makes me wonder if maybe the process had begun long before Sean and I broke up. Maybe I fell out of love with him earlier and hadn’t realized it.

And maybe coffee isn’t a terrible idea. I guess I can use it as an opportunity to gauge how my heart responds in his presence.

I’m still debating as I walk up the stairs to the dorm. Bristol House only has four floors, so there’s no elevator, just four flights I have to climb while carting my gym bag.

I exit the stairwell into the hall and freeze when I spot Sean sitting in front of my door.

Once again, he’s taken the decision out of my hands.

His head is bent over his phone, but it snaps up at the sound of my footsteps. Then he’s on his feet, walking toward me.

My heart does respond, but not in the way I expected. Sean looks exactly the same—dark hair sticking out the sides of a backward Red Sox cap, deep brown eyes, clean-shaven face. Shouldn’t the sight of the boy I spent three years with make my heart ache?

But all I feel is annoyance.

“Don’t be mad,” he blurts out instead of saying hello. He’s obviously picked up on my displeasure. “I know I shouldn’t have shown up unannounced.”

“Then why did you?”

“Because you’re not answering any of my texts.” He shakes his head angrily. “We were together almost four years, Allie. You can’t even spare five minutes to talk to me?”

“I didn’t have anything to say.” I unlock my door and dump my bag in the hall. When Sean tries to follow me inside, I frown and grip the edge of the door to deny him entrance.

He scowls. “What, I’m not allowed to come in now?”

“There’s no reason for you to come in. Say whatever you need to say, Sean.”

“I’m not doing it out in the hall where the entire floor can hear me.”

I draw a deep breath. I don’t know why I’m being so harsh right now. Maybe because seeing him just reminds me of the fight that led to our breakup. All the unfair, insensitive, cruel words he’d hurled my way.

I force myself to exhale. I’m probably being extra snippy because this evening’s rehearsal sucked again. My breakneck pace on the treadmill hadn’t helped either.

“Look, I desperately need a shower, so why don’t I meet you at the Coffee Hut in thirty minutes? We can talk there.”

I can tell he’s still upset I won’t let him in, but he nods. “Fine. I could use a caffeine fix, I guess.”

I nod back. “I’ll be there soon.” Then I close the door and lean against it for a few seconds. Shit, I don’t think I want to have this conversation, whatever it is.

I wish Hannah were here so I could get her advice on how to handle this, but she’s at rehearsal. With her showcase coming up, I doubt I’ll be seeing much of her until the performance is out of her hair.

In the shower, I remind myself that I broke up with Sean for a reason. Well, many reasons. We wanted different things from the future. I wasn’t happy. He was angry all the time.

Bottom line, it was too much heartache and not enough reward. I like to think my mom would agree with me on that. Yes, she’d urged me to work hard at relationships, and yes, relationships do require effort, but they shouldn’t be hostile, right?

I can’t imagine what Sean could possibly say that would make me reconsider.

*

Sean has snagged us a table in the back of the busy coffee shop, half hidden behind a huge ceramic planter with a fake fern fanning out of it. I don’t quite understand the décor of this place. There are way too many plants—are they going for a jungle theme? Eh, I don’t care. I love the way it smells like freshly ground coffee beans, and I’m grateful for the privacy.

Sean slides a tall foam cup closer to me. “I got you coffee.” He smiles wryly. “Vanilla latte with an extra shot of espresso.”

This time, my heart does react accordingly, clenching hard. Of course he knows my coffee order. He knows everything about me, and vice versa. I don’t need to peek in his cup to know he’s drinking a medium roast, one cream, no sugar. And that the paper bag on the table contains a blueberry muffin, which is the only type of muffin he eats. When we were together, I forced him to try every muffin and pastry behind the counter, but he insisted that blueberry is the only flavor that “enchants” his taste buds.

Fuck. Now I’m just sad.

“How’ve you been?” he asks quietly.

Oh no, we’re starting off with small talk? I wrap both hands around my cup to stop from fidgeting. “All right. You?”

“Not the greatest, but…” He shrugs.

I notice he looks tired. Is he not getting enough sleep? I bite back the question before it slips out. We’re not together anymore. His sleeping habits are no longer my concern.

“I miss you,” he mumbles.

I hastily sip my coffee. I don’t say it back, because the truth is…I don’t miss him. Right after we broke up, sure, of course I did. But since then, I’ve had other things on my mind. The play. Dean…

When I don’t respond, he continues with a dejected look. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since you ended it. A lot of soul-searching.”

I finally find my voice. “That’s good. I’m glad.”

“I was thinking back to the last six months, and I realized how badly I screwed up. I was such an ass to you, Allie.” His expression is earnest. “But now I know why.”

My throat tightens. “Why?”

“Because I was scared.”

Aw shit. There’s vulnerability swimming in his eyes. I battle the overwhelming urge to reach across the table and squeeze his hand.

It’s not my job to take care of him anymore.

“You’ve had your entire future planned out since you were twelve. You knew exactly what you wanted to do, and that’s so fucking rare. Not a lot of people can say that.” His tone grows rueful. “I sure as hell can’t. I didn’t grow up dreaming about working for my dad’s insurance company. But it’s a guaranteed job, and not a lot of people have that, especially coming out of college, but it’s not like I’ve been chomping at the bit to go back to Vermont.”