Page 57 of Not Made to Last

Until now.

“I didn’t mention it because I didn’t think it was important,” I tell him, saving us from the awkward silence. “Aren’t you supposed to be in Colorado? What the hell are you doinghere?”

“Nice to know where I’mnotwanted,” he says through a chuckle, hand over his heart to feign hurt.

I push on his shoulder. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Do I?” he asks, grabbing my hand before I can claim it back. He grasps it in both of his, gentle yet firm, and I hold my breath when he closes the distance between us.

“I thought about you a lot,” he says, the sincerity in his words, his eyes, making me lose my breath. “Kind of hard not to when you kiss me while I’m sleeping, say goodnight, and then disappear, never to be seen again.”

“You were awake?”

He shrugs.

“Why didn’t you stop me?”

“Was I supposed to?”

Heshouldn’thave.

But that doesn’t mean there wasn’t a part of me that wanted him to. “I’m surprised you didn’t just show up one day.”

“You told me not to.”

“I know.”

“Did youwantme to?” My non-answer is answer enough, because he chuckles, this deep rumble of a sound that sets off the butterflies. “Good thing I’ll be seeing you a lot more now.”

He starts in on me again, and I hold my hand up between us, stopping him.

He looks down at my hand, then up at me. “You’re right,” he says. “At least one of us should have some self-control. At least here.”

It’s not about self-control, I want to tell him.It’s about fear. “Rhys, we can’t do—” The bell rings, signaling the end of lunch. “I need to get to class,” I rush out, reaching for the door handle.

“Aww, so cute,” he teases, flattening his hand on the door just beside my head.

I grab his wrist, trying to remove it, but I may as well be hanging off a statue. “I really have to go,” I whine.

“Yeah, I’d probably wait if I were you.”

Confused, I let go of his wrist and ask, “Why?”

“Because the hallway’s packed right now, and this is kind of a known spot.”

“Known for what?”

He doesn’t answer. He just… pinches my cheek.

I click my tongue, swat his hand away. “Known for what?” I repeat.

Rhys drops both his hands to his sides. “Blowjobs.”

I lick my lips and instinctively look down at his… a mistake on my part. Obviously. So much for self-control.

“Unless…” he trails off.

I lift my eyes to his, shaking my head at the cocky smirk on his lips. “I bet you’ve been blown in all corners of this school, huh?”

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