Page 12 of Risky Little Affair
Case and point.
I was distracted.
And that was only at work. Don’t get me started on how often my thoughts have drifted to last weekend in class today. I zoned out during an entire ninety-minute lecture.
It’s been two days since we parted ways and he hasn’t left my mind yet. That night is all I can think about. It’s been on replay like a bad soft-core porn.
Not that I didn’t enjoy myself. I can honestly say I’ve never enjoyed sex more than I did that night. All three times we went at it. I know he did, too, if his constant texting is any indication.
Another reason I can’t seem to shake him, or what we did, from my mind.
The good news is, Piper will be back soon. I just need to make it eight more days without cracking. Without texting him back.
Because as I sit on the futon in the suite I share with her, alone, staring at his last message, I can feel my resolve wavering.
MICAH: I’m going to keep texting you until you answer me, Lex. One way or another. Yes or no.
Answer him.
Easier said than done.
His question… Interested in a repeat performance?
Yes, I am, but at the same time, no, I’m not. I promised myself it would just happen once. Well, that one night anyway. I made my stance clear. I did everything I could to avoid a situation like this.
We were on vacation. Out of our natural habitats. It made sense for us to act a little out of character.
That’s not the case anymore.
I’m sitting in the dorms, where I live because the cost is covered by my scholarship, and I couldn’t afford an apartment if I wanted to. He’s at his fancy apartment he shares with his brother, Declan. It probably has marble countertops and real hardwood floors. I bet they don’t even have to share a bathroom.
We’re from two completely different worlds.
The opposite side of the tracks.
He’s an Armani suit and I’m a tattered pair of Arizona jeans.
We don’t make sense. Not outside the confines of that tent. Not in the real world.
Which is exactly what I’m about to tell him when another text from him pops up.
MICAH: You should really talk to security about leaving the doors to the building propped open. I know it’s hot outside, but anyone could walk in.
My eyes flick to the open door of my room, soft footfalls sounding, getting closer with every heavy breath I inhale.
MICAH: Come out, come out, wherever you are…
Scrambling off the futon, I glance at myself in the full-length mirror hanging on Piper’s closed bedroom door. My hair is pulled into a low ponytail, the curls starting to fall from this morning. The pink T-shirt I put on when I got back from class has a stain over my left boob, drawing my attention. My sweats are two sizes too big, hanging dangerously low on my hips.
I’m a hot mess. I also wasn’t expecting company.
What is he doing on campus?
“I came to find you.” Looking over myrightshoulder, I find Micah leaning against the doorjamb, smirking at me. He’s wearing a light blue Henley and dark wash jeans. His shirt makes his hazel eyes pop. Every stitch of fabric clings to him, accentuating his muscles, making my jaw go slack. “See something you like?”
“What are you doing here?” I repeat, realizing I’d spoken out loud.
“I came to get my answer. Now that I have it,” he says, his eyes traveling the length of my body, undressing me on the way, lighting me on fire, “I don’t want to leave.”