Bex

Sitting on the floor of my bedroom, I flip open my textbook. Taylor slides along the area rug until she’s next to me, book in hand.

“The assignment is on page two hundred and twelve,” I tell her.

“You know you can talk to me, Bex.” She pats my knee with her hand. “I know this is hard on you.”

“Right now, all I want to do is get through this exam and hopefully pass the class with a B.”

“You have an A.”

“I don’t know how long I’m going to keep it if I don’t get my shit together. I haven’t been focused over the last two weeks.”

“I hate Preston for what he did to you. But I kind of love him for defending your honor.”

“His intentions were sweet.” I peek up from the book, a few tears falling from my bottom lids. “I was happy to see Kellan get his ass kicked by Preston. It’s what happened afterward that’s the problem. Preston may never get into the NHL because of the fight. And I will have to live with the fact that it was all because of me. Because I dated an asshole who did horrible things to me.”

“This isn’t your fault, Bex. Don’t blame yourself. I’ve watched you do it for close to four years. You are the victim. Kellan did those things to you and without your permission.”

“I feel responsible, you know. Like, if I never told Preston about Kellan, then everything would be perfect right now. I told him I loved him, and he rejected me. He asked me to leave the hospital. He hasn’t returned any of the calls or texts I’ve sent over the last two weeks. His friends won’t tell me anything. My dad is in mourning over this. Everyone is treating me differently.”

“I’m not.” She cups my shoulder and pulls me into a hug. “Whatever you need, I will be here.”

My cell phone chimes, and Taylor picks it up. She gasps. “Oh, my God. It’s Preston.”

I jump into action and rip the phone from her hand. Clutching it between my fingers, I hold onto it for dear life, devouring every word.

Preston: Can we talk?

“That’s it?” I look at Taylor, deflated. “No sorry for being a dick. Just can we talk?”

She frowns. “Maybe he wants to tell you in person.”

“He could have called. Not texted. Two weeks of silence should be ended over the phone.”

Taylor shrugs. “You know how guys are.”

“Unfortunately, I do.”

“So, what are you gonna do?”

I stare at his message. Why am I so disappointed? Did I think he would say more? But I deserve more. After two weeks of ignoring me, he could have made a grand gesture, at least attempted to make things right.

“No.” I drop the phone to the floor and push it away from me. “He made me wait. Why should I run back to him with open arms? If he wants to talk, he knows where to find me.”

She laughs. “There’s the old Bex Bryant I know and love. You’ve gone soft since you got together with Preston. I’m happy to see you’ve returned.”

The library is so quiet I can hear myself breathe. Late at night, no one is ever around. I prefer it this way. Even the librarians seem to disappear into the dark recesses of the building.

It’s creepy silent, so I pull out my earbud headphones. Angry punk rock music fills my ears. With each second that passes, I become more relaxed, more focused. I lift my cell phone from the table to switch over to another playlist. And when I do, another text comes in from Preston.

I ignore it, same as I have done for the past three days. He hasn’t earned an immediate response. Not after he kept me waiting. I think of his hockey T-shirt, the one I stained with mascara from crying so much on it. I clung to his shirt, all because it smelled like him. Because no matter what he said, or how he acted, I still love him.

I hate how pathetic I am because of Preston. By shedding tears for him, I allowed him to have power over me. Not anymore. I call the shots in my life. It will not be dictated by a man ever again.

Dismissing his message, I return back to my music library to choose a new playlist. This time, I go with something more upbeat. But still angry. Joan Jett’s voice penetrates my ears, the sound a welcome relief. I turn the page in my textbook, my eyes pointing down at it.

My thoughts drift to Preston for a second, instead of my book, and I curse him for it. He was always a distraction. Even without him in my life, he still gets under my skin. Because he’s a part of me. He’s the love of my life.

I try to be strong—because that’s how I was raised. My father was never emotional and had no clue how to raise a girl after my mother left. His response to everything was to slap a Band-Aid over it and get back on the court or the ice. But no number of bandages can close the wound left open by Preston.

Another text pops up on my phone. I stare it and sigh, pushing the phone away with my fingers. What’s with all the text messages? He could have called or showed up at my dorm room. I’m holding out until he decides to man up and apologize the right way.

By the time I finish my reading assignment, I receive another text. This time I read it.

Preston: I can see you ignoring my texts.

I roll my eyes at the phone and consider responding. Nope, not gonna happen.

Another text comes in.

Preston: I can literally see you rolling your eyes at me.

I huff, now glancing around the vacant loft that occupies the top floor of the library. No one is up here with me. He’s just messing with me. Or so I think.

Preston steps out from the row to my left. He looks gorgeous in a pair of tight jeans and a fitted dark tee that stretches over his muscles, framing his thick chest. He shoves his hand through his hair to push it off his forehead, looking like a GQ model.

My stomach clenches, my nipples hardening from his simple gesture. No matter how much I want to hate him, I can’t ignore the feeling I get when I’m around him. He’s always had this effect on me.

Pretending as if I don’t care, I lean back in my chair and cross my arms over my chest. “What do you want?”

“Don’t be like this, Bex.” He approaches the table and stands there, towering over me. “I’m sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am. I know there are no words that can make up for what I did to you, but I have never been sorrier in my life.” He drops to one knee next to my chair and tugs at my hand.

I allow him to take it, and he weaves his fingers between mine. Electricity pricks my skin. Tiny bumps travel up my arms. He glances down at my hand, and then brings it to his mouth to plant a kiss on my skin. It’s soft and sensual, more delicate than he’s ever been.

“I love you, Bex. I’ve known that I love you for a while now. I should have said it back to you at the hospital. I never should have pushed you away. My biggest regret isn’t fighting Lehane or getting suspended by the NCAA. It’s losing you.”

Tears fall from my eyes, and he wipes them away with the back of his other hand. We stare at each other. Preston waits for me to respond, and I wonder what to say. But I have no idea what to do.

Because I love him.

I’ve missed him.

I want him.

I need him.

“Say something, Bex.” His voice is deep and modulated, so smooth it soothes me.

“I’m still mad at you. How do you expect me to trust you when you walked away as soon as times got tough? I’m afraid you’ll do it again.”

“I won’t.” He massages my hand with his long fingers, and it feels so damn good. “I promise to never shut you out again. I want you to be part of every aspect of my life. The good. The bad. The in-between. I want you to be there for all of it. And I want to be there for you. I really do love you, Bex. So fucking much it hurts. I feel like someone’s digging a knife into my chest when I’m not with you. I haven’t been able to sleep. I can’t eat. At first, I thought it was because of hockey, but I now know it’s because of you.”

“You’ve made the last few weeks of my life miserable, Preston.” I try to hold his gaze but have to look away. He blots more of my tears with his thumb, forcing me to look at him again. “I don’t know what to say or what to do. I’ve been through a lot over the years. I can’t take anymore.”

“I know, and I’m here for you.”

“I’ve lost my mother.” I continue, “Was humiliated my last year of high school and part of college. I still have to live in shame over those pictures on the Internet. I can’t even have a social media account because I’m so afraid someone will make the connection. It’s like I have to hide from everyone. I never had to with you. But then you pushed me away. It was like you were ashamed of me. Like you couldn’t stand to look at me because of what Kellan said to you.”

“Never,” he whispers. “I could never be ashamed of you. I kept my distance because I’m an asshole. I needed time to grieve the loss of my career, without realizing what I was doing to you in the process. I took you for granted, thinking you would be there when I was ready. I’m sorry, Bex.”

I cup his cheek with my hand and sigh. He kisses my fingers first, covering each of them with his mouth. I suck in a deep breath, hoping to find my willpower. Which seems to have disappeared on me. Because I can’t fight him. He’s too intoxicating, too hard to resist.

Preston must see the desire in my eyes because he slides his arm behind my back, and he lifts me up from the chair. His eyes burn through me, his hands leaving a harsh burn in their wake. My entire body comes alive from his touch. He knows it. Preston was probably banking on my physical reaction to him.

“I love you, Bex,” he whispers against my mouth. “Please forgive me.”

“I love you, too,” I whisper, and then his lips are on mine, his tongue invading my mouth.

Without breaking the kiss, he lifts me up and lowers me onto the table, making room for himself between my legs. He explores my thighs with his big hands and slowly makes his way to the hem of my shirt. His hand dips beneath it, and I whimper when he cups my breast over my bra.

“I missed you so much, Bex.” He says the words softly, under his breath.

“I missed you, too.” I’m panting and flushed from our intense kiss. And I want more. “I want you inside me.” I tug at the bottom of his jeans, my eyes fixed on his. “Right here. In the library.”

“Aww, baby,” he growls. “This is like my dream come true.”

I laugh, pulling down his pants enough to grab his thick cock through the slit in his boxers. “Sex in a library is your dream?”

“No, but watching you step out of your comfort zone is.” He strips away my shoes, followed by my leggings, and then he gives himself a few pumps before he inches into me.

Resting my head on his shoulder, I moan from the ripple of pleasure that rushes through me. “Preston,” I mutter.

He thrusts his hips. “I missed this, too.”

“Yes,” I moan, both agreeing with him and enjoying how good this feels.

My fingernails dig into his back as he fucks me, hard and fast on a desk in the reference section of the library. This is so dirty. So damn hot. And so unlike me. I am way out of my comfort zone, but I don’t care. For once, it feels good to live in the moment.

When I moan again, he covers my mouth with his, smothering the sounds escaping my lips. He’s not going for distance this time—not when we’re in public. Preston reaches between us, his thumb rolling over my clit, as he rocks into me. My muscles tighten around him, the sensation so intense waves of pleasure penetrate my entire body.

Preston finishes right after me, his performance record timing for us. Still inside me, his mouth separates from mine. He slides his hand to the back of my head, a smirk turning up the one side of his mouth.

“You’re it for me, Bex. No matter what happens, it’s you and me against the world.”

I believe him. The anger I had earlier is no longer there, replaced by nothing but love for Preston.

I smile, my heart swelling with joy. “You and me,” I whisper, and then he kisses me.