The Sophomore (College Years #2) - Monica Murphy Page 0,100
didn’t know you had it in you.”
“Well, I had something—or someone—in me all night long, and now I never want to leave this spot,” I confess with a smile.
He slowly thrusts against me. He’s relentless. “You’re a dirty girl, Ellie.”
“You should know,” I say lightly. “You’re the one who corrupted me.”
“Best thing I’ve ever done, for sure.” He squeezes me tight. “I think I’ll skip class today too.”
“We should,” I agree. “We can skip together. Hang out all day. Go to breakfast. I never go out for breakfast. Should we do that? Oh my God, I’m so hungry. Though it’s a little late. It’s close to ten already, huh? We could have brunch. Do they call it brunch on Friday?”
“Yes.” He kisses me, silencing my rambling words. I don’t know why I just did that. Maybe I’m afraid he’ll turn me down? That he’ll have something better to do than hang out with me? “They call it brunch any day of the week. And we should definitely go to brunch. I need to shower first though.”
“I should shower too,” I say, closing my eyes when he nuzzles my neck. He’s so snuggly and warm. Do we have to get out of this bed? I’d rather stay here all day, in our own little bubble, keeping reality where it belongs.
Out of our lives. At least for a little while longer.
“Let’s conserve water and shower together,” he suggests, his lips tickling my skin.
“You want to take a shower with me?” I squeak, sounding dumb.
“I want to do everything with you,” he admits, just before he turns me over and kisses me senseless.
We end up at a restaurant not too far from campus, a quaint little breakfast place that is mostly empty, thanks to the late hour. We sit outside on the patio, the breeze ruffling Jackson’s dark blond hair, making a mess of it. Making him look adorable and sexy and all I can think about is the fact that I have now had sex with him.
I’ve had sex. With Jackson Rivers. Something I never thought would happen.
I also can’t stop staring at him as we sit at the table, my menu open, though I’m not looking at it. I’m so hungry I could probably eat the actual menu, but I can’t concentrate on what I want to order. All I can do is stare at this boy sitting across from me, who’s completely rocked my world in the best possible way. How did I get so lucky?
I have it so bad for him. He could take advantage of that too, if he wanted to. I need to remember that. Jackson is capable of that sort of thing. He takes without thinking. He’s done it to me before, and I gladly let him do it, like a complete idiot. I need to remember to stand up for myself more. Hayden and Gracie taught me that. So did Ava. Jackson might not like it, but too bad.
Hmm. Maybe we’re not out of the woods yet.
Ugh, I hate feeling doubtful. It’s the worst.
“What are you getting?” he asks.
I snap out of my Jackson-induced daze and concentrate on the menu once more. “I’m not sure. Bacon and eggs?”
“I thought you liked sweet stuff. Pancakes. Waffles,” he says.
That he noticed shouldn’t thrill me so much, but it does. It means he pays attention to me. “You’re right.” I close the menu, my gaze meeting his. “I’m having French toast.”
He smiles. “Will you share?”
I slowly shake my head, teasing him. “Nope.”
Jackson mock pouts. “Come on. So selfish.”
“Says the king of selfish,” I tease back.
His mock pout disappears, hurt filling his gaze. “You’re right. I am the king of selfish. Always taking advantage of you.”
“I didn’t mean it like that—”
“Yeah,” he cuts me off. “You did. And it’s cool. I get it. I’ve been oblivious to you for so long. Taking advantage of your friendship. Of you always being there. I counted on you, when you couldn’t always count on me.”
I didn’t want to start such a serious conversation between us the morning after we had sex for the first time, but here we go. “It’s partially my fault too.”
He literally scoffs. “That I took advantage of you? How?”
“I shouldn’t have been such a doormat,” I say with a shrug. “I was weak when it came to you.”
“You’re my weakness now. You always have been,” he says, his voice low.
My heart leaps at his admission. Is he for real? The sincerity in his gaze, on his face, tells