Page 103 of Collision
I look at him in shock for a handful of seconds, silent, just blinking. “You…you…you’re joking! Tell me you are joking! You took it upon yourself to reject calls from the guy I’m dating while I was asleep? What is wrong with you?”
“I don’t know why I did it, okay?” he says, annoyed.
Annoyed. He’s annoyed. Suddenly I am overcome by a blind fury. I leap over the seat and perch on his legs. I lash out at him, hitting him repeatedly in the chest.
“What the fuck are you doing, stop it!” he shouts at me, in shock.
“No, I won’t stop it! You’re sick! Presumptuous! Possessive! Who the hell do you think you are, huh? You reject calls for me on my phone, you threaten Logan, you punch him.” I hit him again, for emphasis.
Thomas tries to grab my wrists but fails. His reflexes have been deadened by alcohol. “Calm down! You’re overreacting!”
I know, I’m going crazy because of you!
“Tell me why you did it!” I scream, ready to hit him again but he finally manages to grab my wrists, pinning them both behind my back.
“Because I can’t stand to see you with him. I can’t stand seeing you with anyone,” he confesses forcefully, his mouth inches from my own.
I freeze instantly, breathless. Thomas releases my wrists. I could try to parse that sentence, but I won’t. Instead, I rub my face and tuck my hair behind my ears. I take a breath to calm down, and only then do I realize that, caught up in my outrage, I have straddled Thomas. His hands are resting on my thighs. I look up and realize that he is staring at me with eyes full of desire. I feel that strange tingling in my bellythat only he seems to cause. I know what is about to happen. But no. I won’t allow it.
“Don’t do it.”
“Don’t do what?” He challenges me with his usual smartass look, sinking his fingers into the exposed flesh of my legs.
“Don’t kiss me. Don’t touch me. You’re drunk and clearly worked up about something. Don’t use me as a release valve. Do it with the other ones, but not with me.” It’s almost a plea, because there is a part of me that desperately yearns to be kissed by him, but the rest of me knows that would be a grave mistake.
After lingering for a few seconds, Thomas lets his head fall back against the headrest and sighs in frustration. He removes his hands from my legs as if it costs him a great deal of effort, and I get back in the driver’s seat, adjusting my skirt. I sit motionless for a moment, staring out at the dark, empty road ahead of me, trying to put my thoughts in order.
“Why did you tell me?” I ask finally, gripping the steering wheel tightly in both hands.
“What?”
“About the phone. You could have not done it, pretended not to know anything…”
“That was my plan,” he admits. I turn to look at him and watch his Adam’s apple bob. “You said you don’t trust me. And I don’t blame you, I pull a lot of shit, I’m unreliable and unmanageable. But I want your trust. Being honest with you is the only way I can think to get it.”
He secretly deletes calls and messages from my phone and then he wants me to trust him… My God, it’s so hard to keep up with him. I can’t pretend that I didn’t appreciate his honesty, though.
“Will you do it again?”
“Probably.”
“You are hopeless.” I shake my head resignedly. “I’ll take you to campus.” Thomas slumps back against the window. We drive in silence but, from time to time, I can feel his burning gaze on me. “Every guy in that bar was drooling over your legs. You’ve filled their spank banks for years to come,” he says suddenly, brazenly, giving my legs a sneaky look.
“Come on… It’s just a work uniform.” I shrug it off, embarrassed.
“It took all the self-control I have not to grab you and slam you down on a table every time you passed by. Give every creep in that place something to really look at.”
His vulgarity takes my breath away. His insolence makes me blush. My body, though, quivers at his words, at the possibility of them becoming a reality. Is it possible that some part of me is secretly attracted to this barbaric and shameless side of him, so at odds with my own preoccupation with decency?
I clear my throat, trying not to let any emotion show. “That’s because you’re a primitive troll.” Arriving on campus, I put it in park and turn off the engine. “We’re here.” I get out, walk around the car, and try to help him get upright.
“I may be a primitive troll. But you…” he whispers, his lips pressed almost to my ear, so close that I shudder. “You are too beautiful.”
I bite my lip, trying to keep the storm inside me at bay. The little voice in my head comes to my rescue, it reminds me that he is drunk and that I must not under any circumstances make the same mistake again.
“I’ll take you back to your room,” I tell him in a low, trembling voice.
“That was your plan all along, wasn’t it?” he snickers, grinning arrogantly. I ignore him and lead him past the common area, which is completely deserted. We take the elevator up to the fourth floor and walk down the hallway until we reach his door.
