wake up peacefully, stretching myself into a starfish, my legs trembling as a loud yawn escapes my lips. Stretching is my favorite part of the morning—like my body is shaking off the ghosts of sleep.
I glance at the clock on the nightstand.
What the hell? It's noon?
I've slept way too long. Then again, sharing a bed with Jason has been... oddly comforting. Ever since I started sleeping beside him, my nightmares have nearly vanished. That should probably concern me. But what concerns me more right now is—where is he?
Dragging my feet toward the bathroom, I reach for the door—and freeze.
Jason stands there, still dripping from the shower. His skin glistens, and a white towel sits low on his hips, so low it's basically hanging on for dear life.
My breath catches. My brain short-circuits.
We stare at each other. And it's bad. The kind of bad that feels way too good.
I can't close my mouth. I can't look away. He's all hard lines and golden skin and that stupid, cocky smirk that makes my stomach do somersaults.
He walks past me like he owns the entire damn apartment—hell, the whole world—towel slung over his shoulder as he dries his hair, muscles flexing with each step. I can barely breathe.
Wait. Am I seriously falling for this idiot after less than a week?
He turns around and strides toward me. Each step brings him closer. My back hits the wall. No escape.
He grabs my arm and pins me there. A soft yelp slips out of me.
My heart thunders. His hand moves to my hip and I close my eyes—then force them open again.
His gaze drops to my lips.
Don't fall for it. Don't fall for it.
If I let this go any further, I'll become one of them—the girls who orbit around Jason Gravano until he gets bored. And I am not here for that.
"I take it you used my bathroom?" I ask, trying to deflect the insane tension between us.
He lets go of my neck, his fingers brushing away casually like nothing happened.
"Are you serious right now?" he says, raising a brow.
"I am."
He sighs. "Water's out in mine. Had to use yours."
"Oh," I mumble.
I look again. His abs are practically taunting me.
"You like what you see, huh, Marie?"
My mouth moves before I can stop it. "Yes—"
His laugh rings out.
"I mean no! What would I even like about your body?" I roll my eyes, trying to salvage some dignity.
"I'll take your first answer," he says, turning and walking off, smug as hell.
"Excuse me!" I call after him, even though I know he heard everything he needed to.
Of course he knows I meant it. Anyone with eyes would.
The living room is empty when I walk in. Jason's gone.
Great. Guess I'm on my own.
I need to explore campus, figure out where my classes are, maybe even make a friend—which feels like trying to catch a cloud. But hey, I have the school map. And my stunning social skills.
Jason's probably off pretending to be mysterious and complicated in his second senior year. Not that I care. I'll just handle things myself.
I lock the door behind me and step outside, sunglasses on, phone in hand. I skim through the email with directions, not looking where I'm going—until I slam into someone.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," says a girl my age.
We both laugh, and for a second, it feels easy. Like this could be the start of something normal.
"By the way, my name is—"
"Kate!" a male voice calls.
She turns and lights up like a firework. "Oh my goodness, Jason!"
Jason.
Of course it's Jason.
She rushes past me to wrap him in a hug. My insides twist.
"Going somewhere?" he asks, now looking at me like I'm a stranger.
Kate turns to me. "Do you know her?"
"She's my roommate," Jason replies flatly.
Roommate. Not friend. Not even "Marie." Just roommate.
Kate doesn't look threatened. Maybe she doesn't see me as competition. Maybe she's right.
"I'll leave you two to it," I say, forcing a smile. "It was nice meeting you, Kate."
She offers me a sweet smile. Jason doesn't even look back as they head inside.
I pause for a moment, hoping—stupidly—that he'll stop. He doesn't.
I mutter a few choice curses under my breath and press forward. He wasn't going to hold me back anyway.
The building ahead looms large, its interior even bigger than I imagined. Students buzz around, but I slip away to a quiet corner—the library. My haven. My sanctuary. My oldest friend.
Books don't lie to you. Books don't flirt with you one second and ignore you the next.
As I wander through the shelves, one title catches my eye: One Night Stand. Of course.
I pluck it from the shelf, flipping it open.
"I didn't know you were into steamy reads," says a voice behind me.
The book slips from my fingers.
Jason again.
How is he everywhere?
"I followed you here," he says, voice low, teasing.
I stare at him. "You're such a stalker."
He grins. "Caught you red-handed, Marie."
"I wasn't going to read it. I was just—looking." My eyes dart away.
He tilts his head, eyes gleaming. "Hmm."
"Jason, give it back." I reach for the book, but he lifts it out of reach.
"No can do."
Now we've drawn an audience. I'm frozen in place, watching the way his shoulders shake with laughter.
"Come on, tired already?" he teases.
I roll my eyes but can't suppress the smile tugging at my lips.
Finally, he hands it back. I snatch it and slam it onto the shelf.
He laughs again—loud, unfiltered, full of life.
And God help me... I kind of love the sound.