Page 56 of Collision
The idea makes me a little proud, but also reminds me that we cannot do anything like that again. Which is why, when his mouth draws perilously close to mine, I find myself compelled to put my palms on his damp chest. “Stop…” I was hoping for a more decisive tone, but the tremor in my voice betrays me. Thomas, in any case, shows that he has much more self-control than I do and steps back, putting the appropriate distance between our bodies.
With ragged breathing and nipples that peak sharply against the fabric of his T-shirt, I tuck a few strands of hair behind my ear.
“You okay, Ness? You seem a little…hot,” he teases me with a sly little smile.
I give him a sharp look but then my gaze falls on his neck and I start. Did I leave hickeys on him? And did he leave any on me?
I turn immediately to the mirror and realize that the answer to that question is a resounding yes. Freaked out, I bring a hand to my neck.
“That’s not the only one,” he says mischievously.
My eyes widen. “W-what do you mean?”
Thomas looks me up and down in a satisfied sort of way before winking and leaving the bathroom. I examine my entire body in a frenzy and, sure enough, I find one under my collarbone on the right side, one near my breast, a third on my abdomen, and yet another on my inner thigh. Oh my God.
I join him in the room. “Was that really necessary?”
“I like to leave my mark,” he replies calmly, rubbing his hair with a towel. “Anyway, the underwear in that drawer is actually my sister’s. Some of her clothes are in the closet too. She lived here in the frat house for a year, in the room next door, and she still hasn’t finished taking all her stuff to her dorm on campus,” he says, pointing to the wardrobe behind me. I turn to the closet and start looking for something comfortable among Leila’s clothes. For pants, I find some skinny jeans thatfit pretty well, but I have a harder time finding a top because of my larger bust size. Leila’s shirts are all too tight on me, and I don’t feel comfortable wearing them.
I turn to Thomas, hoping he can help me, and find he’s facing away from me. He is pulling on some black jeans before turning his attention to his sneakers. My gaze lingers on his bare back, muscular and fully tattooed, before sliding to his side, where I notice a scar about two inches across. All of a sudden, I remember touching that part of him, and how he stiffened up and moved me away from that area.
“What are you looking at?” He frowns, catching me in the act.
I gasp. “N-nothing, I was just wondering… I mean, that scar looks pretty deep… How did it happen?”
His face hardens, and I instantly regret not having been able to keep my curiosity at bay.
“None of your damn business,” he says shortly, putting on a white T-shirt.
I’m still dumbfounded. “Oh. Yeah, of course, I didn’t mean to—” I hesitate. “Sorry,” I mutter finally.
I turn around, with my back to him, and pretend to rummage through the wardrobe. I don’t like Angry Thomas; it’s somehow even more unnerving than the regular cocky one. Shortly thereafter, I hear footsteps approaching and his scent surrounds me. “Did you find something?” he asks abruptly, darting a quick look at me.
“I found some jeans, but no luck with the shirt. Leila is smaller than me.” I avoid looking him in the face because I still feel uncomfortable.
“Then keep mine.”
“What?” I look at him, wide-eyed. “I can’t go to campus wearing your shirt.”
“No one’s gonna know it’s mine,” he says in a calming tone.
I think about it for a moment, but I don’t have many other options. This is the perfect epilogue for this insane adventure.
“Okay, but now I’d like to take a shower. Could you give me five minutes?” He frowns, seemingly not understanding what I’m saying.“I’m not going to get into the shower knowing that you’re around and could burst in at any moment,” I say, pointing out the obvious.
Thomas rolls his eyes and huffs out a laugh. “What am I gonna see that I haven’t already seen?”
There he goes again, reveling in my discomfort. Bastard. Resigned, I don’t insist and instead go to take a quick shower.
When I come out, I find him leaning against his desk intently typing something on his phone. I still have ten minutes before my meeting with the reading group. That’s not much time, but I can make it if I hurry. I quickly put on my combat boots and Tiffany’s leather jacket, which Thomas has recovered from the living room. I grab my bag and one of Leila’s scarves to hide the hickey. Thomas, meanwhile, stuffs his jacket pockets with his phone, keys, and pack of Marlboros.
As we walk through the hallways and down the stairs of the house, I gather from the cups left on the floor, the empty bottles and joint ends littered here and there, that last night must have been a huge blowout. Arriving downstairs, I see a group of guys sprawled out sleeping on couches, armchairs, and floors. We pass them and head for the front door.
I close the door behind me and let out a huge sigh of relief. Finally, I can put this whole thing behind me. “Um…well, thank you for the shower and for…you know, yeah, all the rest…” I bite my lip, embarrassed. Telling a personthank youafter having sex is not ideal, but I know he doesn’t expect anything else from me.
“You mean thanks for the mind-blowing orgasm I gave you last night?” He quirks a corner of his mouth cheekily. “Don’t mention it. Whenever you want another one, you know where to find me.”
I roll my eyes, but I can’t hold back a smile. “You’re an idiot as always. See you, Thomas.” I walk down the steps of the porch and onto the sidewalk, heading for the campus library. He continues to walk beside me. He lights a cigarette, slips the Ray-Bans off his head, and puts them on.
