Page 60 of Collide
“Look Connor, w—”
My heart sinks into the acid of my stomach when I finally spot Aiden, getting on the Ferris wheel. With Crystal Yang. A Beta Phi sorority girl.
Spikes lodge in my throat. Connor's muffled voice mixes in with the noise of the carnival.
Aiden’s eyes lock with mine before he sits in one of the Ferris wheel cars. Crystal throws an arm around his shoulders, smacking a kiss on his cheek as she takes a selfie.
In the heat of betrayal—one I definitely shouldn’t be feeling—I turn to Connor.
“Hey, Connor?” I cut him off mid-ramble.
“Yeah?”
“Kiss me.”
He’s clearly not the idiot I thought, because without another word he lowers his head and seals his lips to mine.
—————————
THE SCALDING HOT shower leaves my skin hot to touch. My feet ache from standing for hours, and even the peach-scented lotion I slather over my body doesn’t do much to alleviate the soreness. As I finish running a comb through my damp hair, there’s a loud knock at the door. I throw on a long T-shirt and head to the front door, assuming it’s Amara.
When I open the door, it’s Aiden. A very pissed off Aiden.
“What was that?” he asks.
I lean against the door trying to appear as if my heart hasn’t just lit on fire. “Hello to you too, Crawford.”
“You left.”
“Because the event ended.” I turn to glance at the clock on the kitchen stove. “It’s midnight.”
“I know what time it is.” He steps closer, and I instinctively try to close the door on him, but he holds it open. “Why did you leave?”
“Do you have short-term memory loss? I just told you,” I wince at the irritation seasoning my words.
“The truth.”
“Look, I have an early class tomorrow—”
“I waited for you,” he says, voice low and something vulnerable kissing the words. “She wasn’t supposed to be there. You asked me to save you a ride.”
“I shouldn’t have asked you to do that.”
Green eyes darken. “Why did you kiss him?”
I wasn’t sure he saw the kiss, but knowing he did makes something pop in my chest. So I do the only thing I can. I act clueless. “Who?”
His expression morphs into one of disbelief. “Is there more than one guy you’ve kissed tonight?”
I cross my arms to regain composure, and he takes the opportunity to step inside, closing the door behind him. It’s like he’s sealed off the last bit of oxygen I could suck into my lungs to stay lucid. The dorm rivals a cardboard box with every inch of space he steals.
His gaze turns molten. “If you’re trying to irritate me, you’re doing a good job at it.”
“You’re the one who barged in here,” I accuse.
“Fine. Why did you kiss Atwood? First name Connor, in case you’ve kissed a few Atwoods on your rampage tonight.”
I don’t want to answer him. Mostly because I’m not even sure why I did it in the first place. Well, I have an idea, but I’d rather not divulge that.
