And now it’s been six months since I let myself have him, since I forced myself to walk away before he could push me away first.
Six months of pretending I don’t care.
Six months of pretending it doesn’t still hurt.
Six months, and I still can’t stop thinking about him.
I don’t know what kept me coming back in the first place. Being with Ezra felt like nothing more than random hookups, peppered with cryptic conversations and long silences.
Then he pulled that stunt, ensuring I’d be his TA next year.
He can say he had nothing to do with it all he wants. I’m not stupid; I know he did it to keep me close. But that gave me more of a reason than anything to end whatever it was that we had going on.
I should be mad.
I am mad, in theory.
But I also can’t get him out of my head.
Not his hands, his voice, the way he looks at me like he’s solving a puzzle only he understands.
None of the guys I’ve tried seeing since him even come close. Not sexually, not intellectually, not in sheer presence.
Not that I have had any sexual interest in anyone but him since the day I first had him.
Not that very many men have seemed interested in me at all after the first few dates. I’m starting to think something is wrong with me.
Hallow Ridge always has a way of making things more complicated. Everyone has secrets, and it’s like the town itself knows what I’m hiding.
Whatwewere hiding.
But being someone’s dirty little secret was never my ideal kind of relationship to begin with. And even though at one point in time I was desperate to take whatever crumbs he would give me, I had always known in the back of my mind that I deserved more.
Better.
Someone who would be proud to tell the world I belonged to them.
Someone who would give me so much more than what he had to offer.
Butgod. I so wanted that person to be him.
I shake the thought as I turn up the walkway to the apartments. My study date is waiting inside, probably sitting at his kitchen table, books open, pretending we’re going to get something done.
I don’t know why I bother. It’s not like anything will come of it, but at least it keeps me distracted from Ezra.
Though I would love for someone to fuck me stupid, pushing every thought of him from my mind if only for a few minutes.
I reach the door and knock, half-hoping no one answers.
The door swings open, and there he is.
Not my study date, but fuckingEzra.
Standing there in nothing but boxers.
His hair’s a mess, his eyes dark and unreadable, and my heart does that stupid thing where it flips even though I know I should be pissed. I always feel this way around him, and it makes me want to punch myself in the face.
I’ve seen him like this a million times, but only ever forme.
