The Sophomore (College Years #2) - Monica Murphy Page 0,30
starts to buzz, saying I have a FaceTime call from Jackson. Like I can’t help myself, I take the call, and his face appears. He smiles.
“Good morning,” he says cheerfully, looking sexy as ever in a white tank, his hair an artful mess, his jaw and cheeks covered in stubble. I want to feel those cheeks press against my face. My stomach. The inside of my thighs.
Oh holy shit, I just went there. Why do I always go there with him?
“Morning.” I wish I could tug my comforter over my head. I’m sure I look a mess. Oh, and I’m just wearing a tank top too. No bra. Skimpy panties that I would never dare show him. It gets hot in this stupid, stuffy apartment that I share with roommates who are basically strangers, and I barely want to wear clothes when I sleep. At least I’m living in student housing with reasonable rent that I can pay myself, thanks to my job and student grants. Otherwise, my parents were probably going to make me stay at home and commute to school.
“Ready to listen?” He fumbles around with his phone, setting it on top of some furniture and giving me a better view of his bedroom. Of him. He’s wearing gray sweats, his feet bare, and he’s all rumpled and pretty and annoying. He’s sitting in a chair with the guitar in his lap, strumming it.
“Sure,” I say weakly, bracing myself.
Don’t fall for it. Don’t fall for him. Don’t fall for it. Don’t fall for him.
“Okay. It still needs some work.” He hums, and the sound smacks me right in the chest before dropping, settling between my legs.
Oh my God, I am ridiculous.
In a crowded room, you won’t look my way
All I can do is stare
I’m captivated, lost in your eyes
Thinking about your secrets
What’s between those pretty thighs
And wishing you weren’t so far away
My skin grows warm and I laugh a little when his fingers fumble over the strings. He sends me a look. “Still needs a bit of work.”
“Yeah,” I say faintly, thinking of how he kept staring at me Friday night. How he told me I looked good.
No. This isn’t about me. I’m sure I’m reading too much into this, as usual.
You’re a goddess
A woman divine
A siren
And now we’re entwined
Together
Wrapped up in my arms
Lost to your lips
Lost in your charms
I fill you and you cry out my name
It’s so fucking good
Life will never be the same
“This is the chorus.”
The prettiest I’ve ever seen you
Wishing you were with me
The prettiest I’ve ever seen you
Wishing I was the only one you see
“That wasn’t too dirty,” I tell him when he finishes.
“Oh, there’s more. I’m just not sharing it with you yet.” He frowns.
“Why not?”
“Still needs some work.” He sets the guitar to the side, leaning it against his bed. “What did you think?”
“It was—good,” I say.
His frown deepens. “Good? That’s it?”
“It was great,” I say softly. “I wish I knew who you were singing about.”
His gaze never strays from mine as he says, “That one girl who is completely unattainable.”
I wonder what this girl looks like. Who she is. He may say she’s made up, but I don’t know. I get the sense that she’s real, and I sort of hate her. Even though I don’t know her.
“We all want that one person we can’t have, right?” he asks when I still haven’t said anything.
“Yes,” I agree as I stare at his pretty face with longing. “We do.”
I enter the coffeeshop with my laptop in tow, ready to order my favorite drink—an iced white chocolate mocha with lavender and vanilla infused milk. The lavender, at first, made me avoid the drink, and I always ordered something else. Eventually, though, I gave in.
And never looked back.
The coffee shop is local. Beautifully decorated, with a massive dark gray wall and gorgeous, vibrant pink and white flowers painted on it. Music plays softly in the background and there are a lot of people sitting at the tables scattered about. It’s a popular place, one I only just discovered when I moved here.
I order my drink and head for the pickup counter, nearly running into someone on my way.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, glancing up to find Carson smiling down at me.
“We keep doing this,” he says, his voice light. Teasing.
I laugh. “Yeah, we do. Are we both klutzes?”
“Probably. I know I am.” The smile never leaves his face. “I’m glad I ran into you. Again.”