It wasn’t exactly like I was running away. But the library felt like a retreat. Trevor had been really sweet today, considering everything that happened the previous night. But if I’d been confined with him for another minute, I was going to lose my damned mind.

Through the series of three movies, all I could think about was the way he’d said my name in the shower. How could I be expected to hang out with him after that? As if everything was cool. Like nothing had happened.

So of course, instead of concentrating, I’d kept thinking about all the ways he could touch me. At one point, it had made my nipples hard. Trevor Hamilton was walking, talking, breathing sex appeal, and I was only so strong.

But add in the sweet stuff too, and I was going to fold like a house of cards and beg him to screw me silly. For the love of God, the man had fed me. So what? You feed him all the time. I shoved aside the rational part of my brain. It did make sense, if I was cooking, to make extra. But this was different. He’d deliberately cooked for me. To help me feel better.

My phone chimed and I lunged for it, a part of me thinking that it might be Trevor, asking me what I wanted for dinner.

No, idiot, he is not your boyfriend. This is not how these things happen.

The shitty thing was, I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend. After Brian, all I wanted to do was focus on school, and break out of my shell a little. A boyfriend wasn’t part of the bargain. And doing things on my own terms would be hard with a boyfriend. Not to mention, Trevor was just like Brian.

He had the smarts, and he beat Brian by miles in the looks department. Someone that hot would burn me eventually. And finding another apartment in the city would be next to impossible. So no screwing my roommate. It was a simple rule…but why was I finding it so hard to stick to?

I swallowed disappointment that the text wasn’t from Trevor. It was Alex, telling me he was running late.

I sighed and was glad I’d brought other coursework along. I managed to work for another thirty minutes before my phone chimed again. This time it was Trevor. Just seeing his name come up on the screen had my heart doing a flippy thing. I had it bad.

Trevor: Meet me on the third floor.

I frowned. He was here? Why? I glanced around the library. It wasn't exactly empty, but there weren’t many people around. Why did he want to meet me on the third floor? Nobody ever went up there. The upperclassmen liked to freak out the freshmen and tell them it was haunted.

Nevertheless, I grabbed my phone and headed to the third floor. The floor was only partially lit, the auxiliary lights coming on the further down the stacks I walked. Quietly, I called out his name. "Trevor?”

There was no answer at first, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention. This was probably the start to some horror movie. He better not be screwing with me, lest I go all Carrie on his ass.

As most of the library was digitized now, the only people who ever came up here were the history majors who needed some obscure text. The emptiness gave it an extra-eerie feeling as my tennis shoes squeaked on the linoleum. “Damn it, Trevor, where are you?”

The lighted distance between the stacks was shorter and shorter now. If I wanted to extend them, all I had to do was press a button, but there was clearly no one down at this end.

Suddenly, he stepped out of one of the darkened stacks. “I’m right here. You don’t have to shout."

I clutched my chest as I whirled around. “Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me.” I hit him, and didn’t miss the fact that he was all hard muscle beneath his T-shirt. “What do you want? Why are we meeting up here? You couldn’t just call?”

He licked his lips. "Well, when you were leaving earlier, it occurred to me that maybe we had more to talk about.”

“Something you couldn’t talk to me about downstairs?”

He took my hand and tugged me into the shadows. When he bracketed me against a shelf with both arms, I swallowed hard. Why did he smell so good? It made it impossible to think with him around.

"We could go back downstairs and talk about how you’ve been hearing everything in the shower. You want me to discuss that around your study buds? You want me talking about how you can hear me, and what I’ve been saying?

My face went up in proverbial flames. I was probably a lovely shade of lobster right now. “Oh geez, you know?”

“Well, I figured it out after you went to shower in my bathroom and you wouldn’t look at me.”

I covered my face with my hands. “Oh my God. Do we have to talk about this?”

He worked his jaw. "You’ve been hearing me every day.”

"Not every day. Just, you know, the days when you're in the shower and I’m in the room." I shifted my gaze away.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You made it clear you didn’t like me, and you had zero expectations on us being friends. So what was I supposed to say? ‘Hey, I’ve been hearing you jack off in the shower. Do you need a hand with that?’”

He dropped his head. “Fuck. That might well have killed me. I've been trying for three weeks to keep my hands to myself. And I’m obviously failing. I kissed you in the kitchen that time, and that's only made it worse. It's like getting my hands on you is all I can think about. I thought last night was because you were wasted. But I kinda get the feeling you want me too. Like you were looking for a little liquid courage."

"I–I–I–" What was I supposed to say to that? "I don't remember exactly what happened last night, but I feel like you kept stopping me from doing anything too crazy."

"Yeah. I did. You were wasted. You kissed me. And I kissed you back. I stopped there, though. When I'm with someone, I want them to know they’re with me."

“Well, thanks, I guess."

He ran his hand through his hair. "Jesus, Natalie. What kind of guys have you dated where you thank someone for meeting the baseline of decency?”

“You don't want to know.”

“Shit, you’re right. I don’t. Somehow knowing that you could hear me in the shower is like the hottest thing in the world. What I do want to know is if you’re climbing walls nearly as badly as I am. Because I can't think of anything else right now. It's difficult to study. I'm fucking distracted at work."

"I'm distracting you?"

He bit his bottom lip and nodded. "Yes. How the fuck can you not know that?"

"I don't know… I just, well look at you. You can have pretty much any woman you want."

"Right now you're the woman who’s been occupying my headspace. Your fucking cardigans have been driving me batshit since I met you."

"My cardigans?"

"Yes. Sometimes when you button just the top one, I sit there praying that your tits will pop that last button. I can't seem to get you out of my head."

I shifted on my feet. "So what are we supposed to do about it?"

His hot gaze met mine, and butterflies fluttered somewhere low in my belly.

"I'm fucking tired of fighting."

As he leaned closer, I held my breath. "Trevor, what are you doing?"

"I'm going to kiss you now, Natalie. If you don't want me to, now's the time to say so."

I knew what would happen when he kissed me. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to stop. That we wouldn't be able to stop. When his lips met mine, we would both be giving in to everything we’d wanted since I moved in with him. But I didn't stop him. Instead, I tipped my chin up.

"Well, if you’re going to kiss me, I suggest you make it good."

Trevor smirked. "You might as well hand me your panties now. You won’t need them when I'm done with you.”