Page 60 of Chasing Lynda

He gives me that lopsided, slightly cocky smile again. It’s sexy and cute at the same time, and I’m nervous about how defenseless I am against it. “I won’t fight you if you jump me.” He chuckles. “But I’m tired and still sore. I was hoping to talk a little and then sleep?”

I ignore the voice in my head that’s screaming that staying is a bad idea. The more I get to know these guys, the more it’ll hurt on Monday morning when I have to go.

But I’m obviously a glutton for punishment, so I let him lure me back into bed.

“Come here, sexy girl.” He coaxes me opening the covers for me. “You know I don’t bite ... unless you ask me to.”

I can’t help but giggle at his goofiness and I nestle into his arms, shifting to the side, my back against his chest.

“Do you go to school?” he asks with his lips brushing against my temple.

“I was accepted into NYU, but ... my parents refused to let me go. I was engaged to a guy they liked but I wasn’t into it and when I broke it off, my family cut all ties. I decided to take a gap year while I figured out how to pay for school.”

Technically, none of this is a lie. I know there’s a lot more to my story, but I don’t want to tell him about the wedding and how I’ve been running for an entire year. I don’t want to taint the memory of this night by thinking about Aaron. I’ve let myself think about my “ex” as little as possible, as if letting him into my thoughts and speaking his name out loud, could somehow summon him.

“That sucks. Zane did mention that you told him you had a bad breakup.”

Bad breakup is the understatement of the century, but I decide not to elaborate. “What about you? Do you go to school at Bridgeport?”

He shifts a little, turning me so he can look at me. “I just graduated from Bridgeport. So did the others.”

They’re a few years older than me. “What did you study?”

“Business.” He offers. “It was a plan B. I was drafted into the NFL, but my fucked up shoulder turned it into plan A. You said ‘accepted into NYU,’ so I assume you’re younger than me? I mean, you look it.”

I nod. “I’m nineteen. I’ll be twenty in October. You must be twenty-one?”

Dodge tucks a strand of my dark hair behind my ear, tracing the shell of it with a feather light touch. “Yeah. I’ll be twenty-two at the end of September. Zane and Bennett have already had their birthdays, Carter’s in August. What did you want to study?”

I sigh, I guess I can tell him that. “Fashion and business. I wanted to become a fashion designer, but without my parents’ help, I don’t know if I can afford it.”

Dodge looks serious, as he considers my words. “You can still do it. Get a job to pay for school?”

I could, if my psycho-ex wasn’t looking for me to force me back into the cult he inherited from the man I killed. I don’t say any of it. I don’t tell him that if Aaron finds me, my choice is between going back to being his wife or being accused of murder. “Yeah, that’s why I came to Bridgeport. Maybe I could try here.” Ok, that’s a lie.

I yawn, because against all rationales, I feel safe and warm. I decide to give myself just this one night in Dodge’s arms.

I drift off to sleep with my head on his chest. This feels like a dream and I know that soon it’ll be time to wake up. I just wish I could keep pretending that this could be reality.

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