Page 185 of Did They Break You

For a minute, silence echoes, save for my own racing heart as I hold my phone up and see I have a missed call from Cortland, a message from Van telling me goodnight.

My stomach flips.

The pounding on the door comes again, louder.

I unlock my phone, swiping my finger over the screen, then I dial Cortland’s number. After a second, the line rings, and I hear a buzzing sound outside my door.

My throat constricts.

Until I hear his voice in my earandin the hall say, “Open the door, baby.”

A smile pulls at the corners of my mouth and I speak into the phone. “Is that you?”

I can practically hear his eyes roll just outside my dorm room. “Yes, and if you don’t open the door in five seconds I’m going to?—”

I don’t hear what he’s going to do because I’ve already ended the call and leapt off the bed, bare feet skidding over the cold floor. I flip the light on and the lock. Then I pull open the door, and he crosses the threshold, picking me up and crushing his mouth to mine.

My legs and arms wind around him as I kiss him back, relieved that I don’t taste alcohol on his tongue. Just nicotine, and I don’t mind it.

The door closes at his back, and his tongue is twirling with mine, his hands under my ass to hold me up.

When we finally break apart, I’m grinning up at him as he leans against my door, still holding me.

“How did you even get in here?” I ask him, breathless. “What if Sloane was here?”

He smiles, but there’s something else in his eyes. Concern? Fear? It sends the little hairs on my arms on end, but he answers me with a light voice. “I don’t give a fuck if Sloane is here ornot. And a cute girl let me in,” he says. My mouth drops open. I smack his chest and his laughter rumbles through it. “I’m lying, she wasn’t very cute.”

I narrow my eyes playfully. “What are you doing here?” I ask him, pressing my brow to his. “Do you want to stay? Sloane is away for the night. You’d have to sneak out in the morning?—”

“We’re not staying here.”

“Excuse me?” I ask him, thinking about the dinner I have with Silas and his girlfriend tomorrow night. “I can’t?—”

“I want you in my bed tonight.” He pulls away, yanking my arm with him toward the door.

“Cortland, I’m in my pajamas.”

He turns back, raking his eyes over my body. “Looks good to me.”

Despite myself, a laugh bubbles through my lips, but I still pull my arm from his. “Let me pull on some sweats, okay?”

He sighs but nods, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans back against the door. I take in his EU shirt, black and orange, and his fitted, black sweats.

Turning, I rake my hand through my hair, wondering what the hell I look like, but thankful his frame blocks the mirror on the back of the door so I can’t think about it too much. I slide the door open on my closet, pull out an overnight bag and pack a few things. Then I pull on a black hoodie, sweats over my shorts, and push my feet into my white Chucks. After I throw my toothbrush in my bag, gargling with mouthwash in the bathroom and avoiding my reflection, I’m ready.

He opens the door for me after shouldering my bag, then slaps my ass as I walk through it, leaning in close and pressing his mouth to the back of my neck. A chill slides down my spine as the dorm door closes and we head arm-in-arm down the narrow, empty hallway.

Despite our closeness, something feels off about this. Cortland is obviously spontaneous, the way he whisked me off to the caves, then took us camping, but this is a rush even by his standards. We agreed we’d see each other Sunday, after his game and my dinner with my stepdad had passed.

As we walk down the stairwell outside, the cool night causing me to shiver, I see his truck is parked right by the sidewalk in a no parking zone, at the bottom of the stairs. He opens up the door for me, tossing my bag in the back first.

He leans over, pulling on my seatbelt. “You good?”

I catch the scent of nicotine in his truck, and I frown down at him, the interior lights of the Chevy illuminating his charcoal eyes. “Yeah, but… is something wrong?”

He grips the frame of the door, staring at me.

I know something is wrong, but he doesn’t look like he wants to talk about it. And after a second he says, “I just don’t want you out of my fucking sight.” Then he shuts the door and walks around the truck.

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