Page 17 of Her Second Chance

I jerk my head back in surprise. Did he read my mind? “Who? Brock?” I ask, trying to play it cool despite feeling anything but.

He snorts. “Brock,” he mutters under his breath like it’s a dirty word. “That frat boy, jock-looking dude was all over you.” A new hardness that I don’t like replaces his softness from moments ago. Did he always act Jekyll and Hyde-like?

Ignoring his quick mood change, I laugh. “No he wasn’t. I’m not remotely close to his type. He goes more for actresses and supermodels.” Literally.

“But is he yours? Type, I mean.”

I slip my arm through his. “You’re my type.” It’s true. Except why does that feel like a lie?

Jason chuckles, his deep voice sending tingles up my spine. “Good.”

My heart flutters. “I forgot what this feels like.”

“What?”

I shake my head. “Nothing.” Ugh, I’m going to wreck it if I keep slipping up and talking about the past.

The elevator doors open, and the overwhelming stench of smelly boys hits my nostrils. I try not to curl my lip since Jason doesn’t seem to notice. He leads me to his room. Once inside, I survey the place where I lost my virginity. I remembered it being less dirty and more comfortable. Apparently, I forgot how Jason and Griffin are total slobs. I don’t want to stand in this filth, let alone get naked in one of these beds. Closing my eyes, I fight against my shudder of disgust. Maybe he’ll clean next time. Or we could go to my place.

“I didn’t expect company,” Jason says, kicking his dirty clothes into a pile and pulling up his comforter to cover his dirty sheets.

“It’s fine,” I lie. This is not fine. It’s hepatitis C waiting to happen. Who the fuck lives like this?

He sits on his bed, patting the spot next to him. “Get comfortable.”

I take a deep breath, instantly regretting it, since the room smells like moldy cheese. I sit next to Jason, trying not to let my disgust at my surroundings show on my face. College guys are so gross. It’s all I can do to keep from picking up his mess and sterilizing the damn place.

Last time around, our first kiss was almost two weeks after we first met. I’d canceled our date because I was sick with a cold. He showed up at my dorm room, ready to take care of me. Despite my disheveled appearance and runny nose, he pulled me into his lap and let me use him like a pillow. When our eyes met, he kissed me for the first time. That was the moment I fell for him. It was like something out of a rom com. This seems far less romantic, but maybe that doesn’t matter. What matters is we end up together forever. Right?

He tucks my hair behind my ear, leaning closer. I move toward him, but stall. His eyes are open. Did he always kiss with his eyes open? I don’t think so. Will he see my pores? Do I even have pores yet? Fuck, this is awkward. It’s been so long since I kissed someone other than Hunter. Ugh, now is not the time to think about that douche canoe. I try desperately to clear my mind and settle into the heat of the moment.

My heart hammers in my chest as we stare into each other’s eyes, lips inching closer in what feels like half speed. At the last minute, I close my eyes as our lips meet. Not taking time to savor the kiss, Jason’s tongue pushes past my lips. He tastes like coffee and cigarettes. For some reason, I don’t remember Jason ever kissing me and tasting like smoke. Weird. I can’t wait until he quits.

I pull away. “That was. . .”

“Perfect,” he says, leaning in for another kiss.

This one’s better. I relax into it, allowing him to press me onto my back. He’s hard against my thigh. I adjust under him so his pelvis presses against mine. He moans into my mouth.

This is more like it. I’ve all but forgotten my dirty surroundings. . . well, mostly.

He leans back, hovering over me. “Is this okay?”

I nod, pulling him back down for another kiss. I tug his shirt up over his head. I forgot how fit Jason was from his years of playing soccer. Athletes have always been my thing. I place several kisses on his collar bone before returning to his lips.

While we’re getting into a grove, something still feels off. It’s like my memories of our connection are vivid, but right now, the details feel muted. Maybe because I don’t remember these awkward early days. I remember how we were as an established couple.

Yeah, that has to be it. Things will get better.

He presses his length against my clit. The sensation sends a zing up my spine. It’s been years since I’ve simply made out with someone not intending to have sex. As much as I want to push things, I know past me and past Jason are both virgins. I don’t want to mess anything up between us by rushing into a physical relationship. We’re already altering the timeline, which could impact the future in a big way. Of course, I guess that’s the point. I mean, why else would I be back here?

I grind against him, dragging my nails down his back. He moans into my mouth before pulling away.

He hovers above me. “We should stop.”

I want to argue, but I know he’s right. I sit up when he moves away from me, adjusting my shirt where it rode up under my bra.

He leans in, giving me a chaste kiss. “I’ll walk you to your dorm.”

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