Chapter 39

Delilah

“Do you think he even noticed?”

I smile at the guy from my Ethics in Psychology class as he follows me out of the building.

“I don’t know how he couldn’t. He wasn’t wearing any underwear,” I tell him with a quick laugh.

“Exactly! If my fly was down while going commando, I know I’d feel the cold air on my dick.”

“What would you feel on your dick?”

I stop cold at Lawson’s words, but my heart warms at the sight of him standing in front of us, hard scowl and everything.

The guy I was walking with, whose name I don’t even know, takes a step back.

“What about your dick?” Lawson asks again with more fire in his voice than the first time.

“Stop,” I tell him with a gentle hand on his chest and a quick kiss on his lips.

“Not my dick, dude.” He holds his hands up in mock surrender, but Lawson’s face still doesn’t settle.

“Umm…” I look at the guy from class.

“John,” he says eventually.

“John and I were discussing whether our professor knew his fly was down.”

“He was commando. I was telling Delilah that he had to have felt the cold air on his dick.” He clears his throat. “His dick, nothing about my dick.”

“Which class?” Lawson asks without pulling his glaring scrutiny from John.

“Ethics in Psychology,” I answer when it seems John has suddenly become mute.

Only then does Lawson look over at me, his eyes softening immediately. “He was testing you. I wouldn’t be surprised if he failed all of you for staring unethically at his junk all through class without telling him.”

I grin at Lawson, knowing full well he’s full of shit. I had the same professor last semester, and he’s a hot mess on his best day.

“Fuck my life,” John mutters. “I already failed that damn class last year. My parents will kill me if I don’t pass it this time around.”

Lawson’s arm curls around my hip, and he turns me away. “Nice meeting you, Jim.”

We walk away, John refusing to correct the man at my side.

“Stop,” I tell him with a playful slap to his hard stomach. “You’ll give that poor boy a heart attack.”

“You need a bodyguard,” he mutters as we near his truck.

“Where are we going? And you need to stop worrying about the boys in my class.”

“Lunch,” he tells me offering his hand so I can climb inside. “And that boy wanted to fuck you.”

I wait to roll my eyes until he’s behind the wheel of the truck. “He’s awkward at best, besides you have nothing to worry about.”

“Yeah?” He cranks the truck but doesn’t make a move to put it in gear to leave the parking lot. “And why is that?”

“Lawson O’Neil, are you fishing for compliments?”

He shrugs. “I’ll take what I can get.”

“Waking up in your arms again this morning was amazing.” I flip up the console separating us and crawl closer to him. “But my body misses you. It’s hard being so close to you and not feeling you between my legs.”

His hands clench the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white, but he doesn’t touch me.

I lean in and swipe my nose up the stubble on his chin, relishing his sharp inhale.

“We’ve slept in the same bed the last three nights.” I lick at his ear. “I miss you.”

“I’m right here, Princess.”

I cup him through the denim of his jeans.

“And ready for me,” I whisper in his ear.

“I’m not fucking you in the truck again.”

“Then make love to me on the hood,” I tease.

He finally turns his face so I can kiss his lips. “You have the ability to test the virtue of a saint. I’d bet my life on it.”

“Yet, you’re the only one I want to sin with.”

“No.” He pulls my hand away from his cock, but the strain on his face tells me it pains him to do so. “You’re on a new diet.”

I raise an eyebrow at him.

“Cock light.”

I chuckle at the ridiculousness, but it doesn’t thwart my efforts like I’m sure he hoped it would. I turn his palm in mine and press it between my legs. I’ve never been so glad to be wearing a skirt than I am today.

“Cock light?” He nods and a grumble roars in his chest at finding me wet. “So just the tip then?”

“Sorry, Princess.” He pulls his hand away, and I whimper at the loss.

“What’s your end game?” I say giving up and flopping back in my seat.

“Your heart.” Two simple words that leave me speechless as he puts the truck in drive and leaves my college in the distance.

“This is all your fault to begin with,” I accuse with my arms crossed over my chest. “I wasn’t even worried about sex until I straddled the damn gear shift in the wrecker.”

“I could smell you then,” he whispers. “I had a wet spot on my jeans from my cock leaking the rest of the afternoon.”

“Gross.” I cross my legs but resist the urge to roll the window down. “No, you couldn’t.”

“I swear it, baby.” He licks the tip of his finger that he just had against my panties. “Smells even better now that you’ve gotten past the hating me stage.”

“That’s disgusting.” Those are my words, but my body responds differently by softening, quickening, and begging for him to take me.

He inhales deep into his lungs when we pull up to a red light.

“Stop,” I say with a laugh and slap his chest. “You’re crazy.”

He grabs my hand that I left lingering against the muscled wall of his chest and brings it to his lips. I pull it back when my phone chimes a text. I pull it out and frown at the screen.

“What’s that look for?” It’s the same question Ivy asked last week when a similar text came through.

“Party,” I mumble. “I left all the groups on social media, and now people are texting me about them.”

“I’m not going to stop you from having a good time.”

I roll my eyes. “I’ve never had a good time at a single party I’ve gone to. Well, it no longer seemed fun the day after.”

I look out the window and pray he asks me about them. I have a ton of things that need to be out in the open, for us to talk them through before I ever have a hope of getting past them.

“Really? I thought you couldn’t go wrong at a college party, but hangovers suck.”

“And vodka makes everything seem like a good idea.”

He chuckles, not catching on to the serious tone of my voice.

“The three guys I slept with this summer, I met at college parties.”

He stiffens, squeezing my hand a little too tight at my admission.

“Sorry,” I mutter. “I shouldn’t have brought it up. I know you don’t want to hear about it, but I swear I didn’t bring it up to make you mad.”

I try to pull my hand back, but he maintains his grasp.

“I hate hearing about it, but I understand that you need to get it off of your chest.” He kisses the soft skin on my wrist. “Put it out there, baby so we can work through it.”

I wait until we’re moving again, his focus on driving making it easier for the words to come.

“The first party I went to was after a long conversation with Samson. I was feeling brave and admitted my feelings for you. Put some of the blame on you hurting me right at his feet.”

We stop at another red light, and I wait, keeping my eyes focused outside even though I can feel his eyes on the side of my face.

He inches forward, turning right which leads to a more rural area with fewer red lights. He’s already caught on and wants me to keep talking.

When the open road stretches out in front of us, I continue.

“We’d had a similar fight the night you snuck in my room. I had every intention of pushing you away that night. He’d threatened to talk to Dad and tell him what was going on between us. He only had suspicions but he can read me like an open book, and I was scared for what that info in Dad’s lap would mean for you and Drew.”

I trace the window seam with my finger searching for the words.

“That night three months ago, he was an asshole all over again. He told me that I just needed to get over it, get over you. I went to that party and took every drink that was offered to me. When a guy I didn’t even know suggested we go somewhere private, I thought it was the best idea in the world. I mean I went there on a mission, but that didn’t mean I wanted to do all of that with an audience.”

I swipe at the tears rolling down my cheeks and ignore Lawson’s ragged breathing.

“When it was over, I felt vindicated. Free from whatever ties I had to you, but then I woke up the next day realizing what I’d done. I cried for a week. I cried until the next party. Then I did the same thing again, praying it would be different. Hoping that I’d feel something, anything with him, but I only felt empty and used.”

I look over at Lawson as he pulls the truck over to the side of the road. The tears staining his cheeks makes the bile crawl up my throat, but I’m not done.

“I did it a third time.” His eyes search mine, and I have no clue what he’s looking for. At this point, I imagine he’s going to call me a whore and kick me out of the truck. “The day before my car broke down I was with someone else.”

Shame weighs heavy on my shoulders. “I don’t even know their names. I was drunk every time. Not that I’m using that as an excuse, but I had to have the alcohol to go through with it.”

“Baby.”

I shake my head when he tugs my hand, an indication for me to get closer to him. “I cried each time. Even Ivy heard my sobs through the bedroom wall. I cried after we made love in this very truck.”

Another squeeze of my hand.

“Not because I was ashamed of you, but because I ruined what could’ve been between us. I understand if you hate me, but please don’t make me walk home from here.”

He releases a pitiful laugh. “I could never hate you.”

“You should’ve been my first,” I tell him. “It was always meant to be you.”

“And you should’ve been mine,” he adds quietly. “But it didn’t work out that way.”

“You’re being too nice.”

“Do you hate me for the women that came before you?”

“I hate that there were others,” I confess.

“But do you hate me?”

I look into his red-rimmed blue eyes and shake my head. “I never hated you.”

“Then understand that I feel exactly the same way.”

I finally allow him to pull me into his lap. His lips rest against my temple as he cradles me to his chest.

“Even now with all of this sitting heavy in the air around us, my body hums for you,” I confess against his t-shirt.

“Is it only your body that wants me?”

I know exactly what he’s asking, and I know that if he can forgive me for what I did while hurting, then it’s damn time I forgive myself.