Page 104 of Deep End

“Scarlett.” He looks at me like he’s having fun. “I don’t think you get it.”

“I . . . maybe I don’t.”

“You and I have an agreement, don’t we? And the agreement says that until you saystop, I can do what I want with you. Even if it breaks you into pieces. Even if it makes you cry.”

I nod.

“I love that you opened up to me,” he says, pressing his mouth into the side of my head. I feel his inhale, and something sweet and thick drips inside me, warms me in my very core. “But they’re sides of the same coin. I get to take you apart and split you open—but if anything else,anyoneelse makes you feel sad, upset, cracked, I also get to be the one who puts you back together. Until you saystop. You get it?”

I wish I could see his eyes. I wish my world was more than his stubble brushing my temple, the scent of sandalwood and chlorine carving its way in my brain. “I get it.” I justdo.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, kissing my cheek. And then: “Now open that fucking email.”

I laugh, and laugh, and laugh some more while the score report loads, and—

I blink. I’m unable to process what I’m seeing.

“Oh my god. Is it . . .”

There’s a five. And a two. And a six. Three numbers that together make another number, one I should be able to make sense of, but it’s high, so high, so much higher than I expected . . .

“Congratulations.” A low, scratchy voice. Another kiss in my hair. Around my waist, a strong arm pulls me into warmth.

I whip my gaze up to Lukas’s, dizzy. “You knew,” I half state, half accuse.

He says nothing. His lips twitch.

“How? How did you know that it would be good? Oh my god—did you hack my email? Is it because I made my password kink related?”

He looks intrigued. “Tell me more about this password of yours.”

“How did you know?”

“I didn’t.”

“Youdid.”

He shakes his head. “I just know . . . you.” His thumb smooths the furrow in my brow. “I’ve worked with you on the bio project. Spent time with you. I’ve—”

“Fucked me?”

He smiles and pushes back a lock of my hair. “I know that you are a perfectionist, and studied to the point of being overprepared. And that you’re anxious, which clouded your perception of your performance. Above all, I know how much you want to get into med school, and I’m starting to suspect that you might be unstoppable—”

Lukas has more to say, but I don’t let him finish, and reach up for a kiss. My phone clatters against the floor with a dull thud, but I don’t care, arching upward to get closer to him, exhaling in relief when he lifts me to straddle his thighs.

This isnotthe way it usually goes. He’s the one who initiates, and we both vastly prefer it that way. But for a few short moments,it’s nice, being the one with the upper hand. Setting the pace. Feeling the restraint in his hard muscles as we approach the point where he’ll make me feel good. And I’ll make him feel good.

Except—I pull back, a hitch in my breath. “Sorry. Sorry—but you and Pen . . .”

Lukas blinks, lips stung, eyes glassy.

“Are you . . . are you two still having sex?” I swallow at his confused silence. “I know it’s not my business, and you and I—but when she called you last week, I thought . . . And Pen is sleeping with other people, and you and I are not using condoms, so—”

“Scarlett. Itisyour business.” His hand rises to my cheek. It always does, when he wants to make sure that my eyes won’t leave his. “Last week I helped Pen because she’s my friend, and she was stranded, and she didn’t know who else to call. But I haven’t touched her since we broke up. And I have no interest in having sex with anyone but you. Haven’t in . . . a while.”

I’m relieved in a way that I don’t want to examine. “If you change your mind . . .”

I cut off because of the way he’s slowly shaking his head. He clearly cannot fathom changing his mind, and I—can’t breathe. His firm, determined look feels so much like a promise, it sucks all the air out of me. But it doesn’t matter, because now he’s the one kissing me, and we’re back on the trodden path.

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