I think I might be in shock.
Having an out of body experience, maybe. Like I’m watching myself from a bird’s eye view, my surroundings moving in slow motion. All because I can’t quite believe I’m sitting in a diner booth with Luna Evans practically on my knee.
I know I’m staring but I can’t stop. Everything she does, I follow with an eagle eye because I don’t want to miss anything. Not her preferred hangover food order—a grilled cheese with a side of extra crispy bacon and enough hot sauce to kill a small child. Or the way she winces every time she sips the green smoothie her, Kate, and Amelia all reluctantly order. Or how she dithers over which kind of tea to get before muttering a ‘fuck it’ and ordering three.
Green, peppermint, and passionflower, all of which she made me try, all of which I swallowed with a fake smile because Jesus, herbal tea tastes like shit.
I want to make sure I remember it all because it happened too quickly, the past twelve or so hours. When I woke up this morning, I was half convinced I’d dreamt it. Fuck, when it was actually happening I had to pinch myself more than once.
I just… I can’t believe it. Can’t believe it happened. Can’t believe how it happened. Can’t believe it’s still happening. Sure, I practically begged her to stay last night but she didn’t have to. Luna doesn’t strike me as someone who does something she doesn’t want out of pity. And this morning, when a breakfast outing was proposed, it took no encouragement on my part for her to agree.
If she wanted to leave, she would’ve.
But she stayed.
And I’m choosing to take that at face value.
Doesn’t mean I’m any less shocked by it, though.
I don’t think my friends can wrap their heads around it either. God, the looks on their faces when I’d followed Luna downstairs this morning, when she’d plopped herself on my lap, casual as anything. I wish I’d had one of Nick’s fancy cameras on hand to capture their blatant surprise.
“Blink twice if you’re being held hostage,” Ben had murmured to Luna in a dramatic whisper, while Cass asked if she’d got lost on the way to his room and Nick wondered aloud how devastated she must have been to be stuck with the runt of the litter.
But there was a moment, in the kitchen before we left when the girls were raiding our closets, where the guys swarmed me like a post-game celebratory huddle and filled ten, maybe fifteen, seconds with silly, boyish back-slapping and quiet cheering.
It’s been hours and there’s still a general air of disbelief, from my friends and hers. Very quickly, I picked up on the fact this isn’t exactly usual behavior for Luna. More than once, I’ve caught Kate and Amelia looking at her like she’s grown a second head, looking at me like they’re trying to figure something out, but I don’t mind. I’m not going to question it. I’m just going to enjoy it.
Besides, in her defense, I’m pretty sure I keep looking at Amelia the same way. Her being Cass’ long lost sister who just so happens to be Nick’s little crush—newly single, I should add, much to the delight of Luna—swiftly stole the prize of Most Unexpected Night from me.
It’s a comforting distraction, seeing Nick as frazzled as me. He hides it better but if you know him, you can see it. Smiles less easy, quips less frequent, a too-hard set to chronically relaxed shoulders. Amelia’s no better, and she hides it a lot worse. Sitting too straight, casting little looks Nick’s way and immediately checking to see if Cass caught her looking.
It’s because I’m watching them that I see the exact moment Amelia’s entire demeanor changes, a second before heavy hands land on the table, dishes shaking with the force, and the girls on either side of me seem to simultaneously stiffen. “We need to talk.”
It takes a second to recognize the guy looming over us. When I do, I swallow a groan. Freshman year, there was a mix-up with dorm assignments. Nick and Cass were meant to room together but somehow, they got split up. It worked out for me; I got Cass. Nick, however, got Dylan Wells.
I think Nick slept on the floor of our dorm more than he did in his own bed purely because he couldn’t stand being in the same room as the guy.
But the hatred in my friend’s gaze right now? A whole lot more than past roommate resentment.
I only met him a couple of times, and Cass never did, which is why he frowns and asks, “Who are you?”
“Her boyfriend.”
A flurry of arguments erupt, a hostile air settling. I’m not entirely sure what’s happening—he’s a dick, they broke up last night, that’s all I know—and I don’t think it’s a great time to ask. To get involved at all, really. I just try to keep the peace, try to stop Nick from leaping across the table and causing a bloody scene.
That is until Dylan turns his wrath on Luna.
“Luna,” he seethes when she tells him to fuck off, and his tone alone has my guard up, “for once in your life, shut your mouth.”
I’m halfway to standing before I know it. “Watch it.”
A hand on my thigh shoves me back to sitting but despite the nails digging into my skin and the stern look burning a hole in my face, I don’t relax until Dylan fucks off, Amelia unfortunately in tow.
Arm slung around Luna’s shoulder, I squeeze her gently. “Sorry.” When she crooks a brow in question, I quote her from last night, “you don’t need help.”
“I don’t,” she agrees. A hand slinks up my arm, dancing along my shoulder to cup the back of my neck, fingers toying with my hair. “It’s pretty hot when you try, though.”
Something in my chest warms. “That right, sweetheart?”
Luna hums, the noise brushing my lips a moment before hers do.
“Sweetheart, some of us are tryna eat.”
Ben waves a hand in the air, dramatically shushing Kate. “Keep going, this is great breakfast entertainment.”
Cass snorts. “This is a great intro for a condom ad.”
“Ten bucks says they’ll bang in the bathroom.”
“Watch your mouth.” Luna chucks a fry at Ben, a sharp elbow digging into my side. “He’s a gentleman.”
LUNA
I’m in a daze as I walk to class.
It’s been twenty-four hours and I still feel like I’m floating.
Jackson’s face, eyes dark and expression feral, consistently flashes through my mind, and it keeps making me smile. I look like a fucking freak gliding around campus with a big, dopey grin on my face.
I don’t recognize myself. I’m not a girl who glides around post hook-up, giddy over a guy. And I’m not a clingy girl either but yesterday? The girls practically had to peel me off Jackson, only the allure of so much gossip—I’ve never been so proud as I was when I found out Amelia racked up a fucking novel’s worth of drama in one itty bitty night—convincing me to part ways. I probably would’ve been happy curled up in his lap all day and that scares the ever-loving shit out of me.
As much as I want to blame it on being weakened by the multiple orgasms, I can’t. I’d be lying.
I like Oscar Jackson and it’s fucking terrifying.
Completely unexplored territory.
Everything about him, all the reasons I like him, are completely fucking new to me.
When I’m talking, he looks at me like he’s actually listening. Like he’s hanging on the edge of every word. Even when I’m silent, which makes zero fucking sense, I know, but it’s true.
He doesn’t make me feel so… much. I spend my entire day, my entire fucking life, searching for tiny snippets of calm just so I can catch my breath and boom, he appears, and it’s all goes silent.
It doesn’t make sense. I sure as hell don’t like it, the concept of a man magically being the solution to my problems.
But that’s just how it is.
That’s just how I feel.
As I breeze into class, I try not to think about it for just a couple of hours.
Settling in my usual seat, I occupy my mind with firing up my laptop and doodling on my hand but that doesn’t work for long. No matter how hard I try, I keep seeing him in my mind, keep feeling his fingers ghosting my skin. It gets to the point where I have to physically shake the thought of him off to clear my head.
I silently rejoice at the arrival of Pen but even that potential distraction doesn’t last long. One look at me and she narrows her eyes. “You got laid.”
My new friend is a sex psychic. Good to know.
“I did not.” It’s only half a lie. Technically, there was no laying involved. Just some good old fashioned… groping?
“Liar.” Blue-green eyes pointedly flick to the telltale bruises on the base of my neck that apparently, my high-collared shirt does nothing to hide. “It was that guy, wasn’t it?”
“What guy?”
My attempt at cluelessness is a monumental failure at which Pen scoffs. “The baseball player with all the hair.”
“Jackson,” I correct her, and even though I drop my head to hide the involuntary smile his name evokes, Pen catches it. She bats her lashes as she coos his name dramatically. I have to clamp my hand over her mouth to get her to stop.
“So?” She slaps me away, brows wiggling. “I take it he was good.”
I take only the briefest of pauses before sighing. “Understatement.”
“But you didn’t have sex?”
“Nope.” I kiss my teeth, still a little disgruntled about that part. “He wants to take me on a date first.”
“Aw. A gentleman. Rare find,” Pen muses, chewing on the back of her pen thoughtfully. Her gaze flits to the front of the room when Professor Jacobs noisily enters the room, and she pouts at the sight of her dad. “Damn it. I wanted details.” Turning back to me, she pokes my arm. “I have a class after this but are you free for a late lunch?”
I nod my somewhat reluctant agreement just as the professor starts talking and for the next hour, I just about manage to keep my mind out of the gutter and on world politics.
Barely.
I practically work up a sweat with the effort it takes. It’s uncomfortable as hell, being all hot and bothered as I squirm in my seat, unable to do anything but sit and suffer.
Damn you, Oscar Jackson.
Grateful isn’t the word for the emotion I feel when class finally ends and I can finally escape. Pen has to book it to her next class so she rushes out the door, shouting ‘details!’ over her shoulder loud enough to draw stares.
I’m slinging my bag over my shoulder and silently cursing Pen’s name when I hear my own name being called. When I turn around, I find Professor Jacobs beckoning me over. I frown as I approach him
“Is everything okay?” His question surprises me, even more so the genuine concern on his face.
“Uh,” I fidget with the strap of my tote bag, “yeah?”
“You seem distracted today.”
I hide my blush with an easy smile. “Everything is fine.”
“Good.” Jacobs nods, his tone and expression suddenly firm. “Make sure you pay attention in the future. Participation does contribute to part of your grade.”
“Understood.” And the real message is heard loud and clear too; don’t lead my daughter astray.
Luckily, my phone ringing saves me from this godawful conversation.
“Sorry, I need to take this.” I flash him an apologetic smile as I hold up my phone, Ma flashing across the screen.
He nods jerkily and waves me away, an indecipherable look on his face as he watches me leave.
Weird.
