Page 25 of Price of Victory
“Shit,” I said, standing up and stretching muscles that had gone stiff from sitting in the desk chair. “I should let you get some sleep. You probably have classes tomorrow.”
Rhett looked surprised, like he’d lost track of time, too. “Oh. Right. Yeah, I have Economics at nine.”
“I’m sorry for keeping you up.”
“You didn’t keep me up. I could have kicked you out whenever I wanted to.”
There was something in his voice, a slight uncertainty that made me think he was about to say something else. Maybe offer to let me stay or suggest we do this again sometime. For a moment, I considered waiting to see what he would say, but then I thought better of it.
This had been good, whatever this was. Better than I’d expected, better than I’d had any right to hope for. But I didn’t want to push it, didn’t want to overstay my welcome and ruin whatever progress we’d made tonight.
“Thanks for the snacks,” I said, grabbing my jacket from where I’d draped it over the back of the chair.
“Thanks for the umbrella.”
I headed for the door, then paused with my hand on the handle. “This was…nice. Talking to you like a normal personinstead of trying to figure out how to get under each other’s skin.”
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “It was.”
I let myself out and made my way back downstairs, retrieving my umbrella from where I’d left it by the entrance. The rain had slowed to a light drizzle, and the walk back to my car wasn’t nearly as miserable as the trip from the gym had been.
As I drove back to my apartment, I found myself thinking about the evening in a way that felt unfamiliar. For once, I hadn’t had a goal or a mission or a challenge to overcome. I hadn’t been trying to prove anything or gain any advantage. I’d just had a conversation with another human being, and it had been pleasant.
More than pleasant, actually. It had been the kind of evening that made me remember why I’d been drawn to Rhett in the first place, beyond all the family drama and sexual tension and competitive rivalry. Underneath all the complications, he was someone I actually enjoyed talking to. Not that he would ever stoop so low as to admit I was a good conversationalist, too.
That was a dangerous realization, and I wasn’t entirely sure what to do with it. But as I pulled into my building’s parking garage and took the elevator up to my empty apartment, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between us tonight.
ELEVEN
RHETT
Two days had passedsince that conversation in my dorm room, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Or about him. The sharp edges of his usual performance had been sanded away, revealing someone I actually wanted to know better.
It was driving me fucking insane.
I’d caught myself listening for his voice in crowded hallways, feeling my pulse quicken every time I thought I saw him across campus. My heart kept tugging in every direction whenever he crossed my mind, which was constantly. The careful walls I’d built around my attraction to him were crumbling brick by brick, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to stop the demolition anymore.
The worst part was how much sense it all made now. The years of antagonism, the way he got under my skin like no one else could, the electric tension that sparked between us every time we shared the same air. I’d been telling myself it was hatred, but sitting in the quiet of my dorm room with nothing but my own thoughts for company, I had to admit the truth that was eating me alive.
I wanted him. I’d probably always wanted him. And that want was becoming a living thing inside me, demanding attention I couldn’t ignore.
Thursday evening found me alone again. Lennox slept at Oliver’s place as had become his routine. The room felt bigger with just me in it, quieter, like it was holding its breath. Or maybe I was. I’d finished my homework hours ago, tried reading, tried watching something on my laptop, but nothing could distract me from the restless energy thrumming under my skin like a live wire.
It had been too long since I’d done anything about the sexual frustration that had been building for weeks. Months, really. The last time I’d been with someone was before the semester started, with Andrew, who I’d met at a summer party, who’d been nice enough but utterly forgettable. Since then, between hockey and classes and the constant distraction of Aiden fucking Whitmore, I’d been existing in a state of perpetual want with no outlet.
Tonight felt different, though. Private. Safe. Dangerous. Lennox wouldn’t be back until morning, and the dorm was quiet around me. I’d already showered, already taken care of the practical stuff, and now I was sitting on my bed in just my shorts and a T-shirt, trying to work up the motivation to do something about the ache that had been building all day. This was supposed to bemetime. The toy in the drawer hadn’t seen much use.
The problem was that every time I closed my eyes and tried to focus, the same face kept appearing behind my eyelids. Sharp eyes that saw too much, dark hair that looked like it was made for fingers to tangle in, that infuriating smirk that made me want to either punch him or kiss him until he couldn’t breathe. Usually both.
I wasn’t ready to trudge out to the bars in the city, and I wasn’t interested in the hassle of finding someone random for a hookup that would probably leave me feeling emptier than before. And it wasn’t like the perfect guy was just going to materialize out of thin air and solve all my problems.
I was reaching for the drawer of my nightstand when someone knocked on my door.
My entire body went rigid, hand frozen halfway to the handle. Was it Pedro Pascal? Please, I thought desperately, let it be Pedro Pascal. Let it be literally anyone other than…
“Rhett? You in there?”
Aiden’s voice through the door made my stomach drop and my pulse spike simultaneously. Of course. Of-fucking-course the universe had this kind of timing.
