“You can’t think like that.” Sean cuts me off, as he moves in front of me and looks down into my face. There is remorse in his eyes. He offers a weak smile. “Someone really smart told me that when my life turned to shit. She’s tough, intelligent, and beautiful. And when the smoke finally clears, she’ll pull through this the same way she pulled through everything else she’s been through. We’re survivors, Avery. We don’t die. It’s like we have an illness that makes us want to endure the worst.”

I pick at the edge of my sheet, knowing exactly what he means. We had a conversation like this before, but last time it was about him. This time I feel the noose of guilt strangling me and I’d do anything to make it stop. I just want my life back and every moment of the past few days has gotten worse. My dreams are slipping through my fingers and now some lunatic is trying to shoot me.

I burst into tears in the most god-awful, snotty display imaginable. Sean’s blue eyes widen in shock because my hysteria came out of nowhere. One moment I was totally serene, like I could logically process my thoughts and the next, Snotfest-a-palooza.

Sean sits down next to me, making the bed dip, and pulls me into his arms. I babble unintelligible sentences, trying to get out the fears and worries that are stabbing my heart. My entire body feels like it’s going to die. My muscles tense and tighten until I’m ready to curl into a ball, but Sean won’t let me. He doesn’t release me, even though I tell him to. His shirt is covered in my sorrow and stained with my tears.

Sean takes my cheeks in between his palms and forces my gaze to meet his. “We’ll get through this. There’s no way in Hell I’m losing you now, so don’t go cray cray on my ass. I don’t know how to fix that.”

His words catch me so off-guard that I blurt out a huge laugh, and wipe at my eyes. “You said cray cray.”

“I’d say anything for you.” Sean’s voice is deep and determined. It feels like I was shoved over the edge of the abyss and have fallen into a never ending hole, but when he’s with me, there’s ground under my feet. The sensation of falling subsides and somehow everything seems like it might work out. I have no idea how, but maybe we’ll be okay.

Sean leans in slowly with his intense gaze darting between my eyes and my lips. When he touches his mouth to mine a burst of tingles shoots through my body. Every inch is consumed with the light sensation and I instantly want more. Before the kiss has a chance to deepen, there’s a knock at the door.

Sean pulls away and puts his finger to his lips and backs into Amber’s closet, leaving the door cracked. He reaches for something in the back of his waistband before mouthing, “Open the door.”

CHAPTER 8

My heart slams into my ribs, stealing my breath. Suddenly, I don’t want to know who is on the other side. If it’s someone I know, I don’t think I could bear it, even if it’s Henry. Maybe I’m stupid, I don’t know, but I can’t fathom the thought of being responsible for someone’s death.

You already are, the voice in the back of my head says flatly.

What have I become? I don’t want this to be my life. I want the picket fence and the little house. If I had a glittering pair of red shoes I’d be clicking the heels like mad right now, taking me and Sean out of this place. Why did Sean come back here? This was a horrible plan!

The knock comes from the door again and as I step toward it, time slows. I’m aware of the air around me, which is stagnant. The scent of stale smoke and Amber’s perfume fills my head as I reach for the knob. I can’t stand it. I want this to end, but I don’t want it to be now. I’ve had enough. My brain is so fried that I can barely hold it together. Adrenalin races through my veins making me feel like I ate a crate of Pixie Stix. I can barely stand still. As I lift my fingers for the knob, they shake uncontrollably. Voices fade away so that the only sound I can hear is my heart.

My eyes sweep the room one last time. I glance at Sean peering through the door and take in the clock’s glowing numbers blinking to 3:58pm. Amber’s PJ’s are on the floor like she rushed out this morning. Nothing is out of place, except for Sean hiding in my roommate’s closet.

Dread trickles down my spine as I pull the door open. I try to throw a casual smile on my face, but I suspect it looks like I ate a live lobster and he’s fighting to come back up. I’m staring at a guy that I’ve never seen before. He has tanned skin like he’s outside often, with dark hair, and even darker eyes. He laughs and thrusts a clipboard at me. “Sign here and I’ll bring it up.”

“What?” I blink and remain where I am, standing on my side of the threshold.

“You have a delivery. I don’t normally bring up packages this large to the dorms, but Central Holding didn’t want it. They said to bring it directly to you.” The man is still holding the clipboard, but I haven’t taken it. “So I get to carry a hundred pound box up several flights of stairs.” His dark brows pinch together before he removes his brown hat and cocks his head at me. “You did order a huge-ass package, right? A chair, couch, dresser—something like that?”

At the same time I say, “No,” Sean appears behind me and says, “Yes.”

The guy looks up at Sean and thrusts the clipboard at him. “Sign here.” Sean takes it and signs, before handing it back. “I’ll be back in a little bit.”

Sean pulls me back into the room and closes the door. He runs his hands through his hair and looks at me sheepishly. I press my finger to his chest and ask, “What did you do, Sean Ferro?”

He grins—damn he’s beautiful when he smiles like that—and runs his hands over the back of his neck, stepping away from me. “Nothing. An engagement present. It wasn’t supposed to get here, yet.”

“What is it?” Sean is acting so shy that my curiosity banishes every other worry floating through my head. What would make him act like that? What the hell did he get me? For a split second, I wonder if there’s a woman in that box.

“I can’t tell you. Wait and see—it’s a surprise.” He glances at the floor and then back up at me as bright patches of red stain his face.

My jaw drops. “Are you blushing?” I try to catch his gaze, but he won’t look at me. I duck under his nose and chase him around the room for half a second before cornering him against the wall. “Mr. Jones, what could possibly make you blush?” Taking his chin, I make our eyes meet. “I’m a little nervous and very excited to find out the answer to that question.”

“It’s not what it is.” He’s smiling, laughing almost. He brushes my hand away and tries to push past me, but I don’t let him.

“Then what is it?”

His lips curl as he tries to hide the smile that’s on his mouth. He shakes his head and laughs. “You’ll see soon enough.”

“I hate waiting.”

“I know.” I stomp my foot and look out the window. “You are not going to help him carry it up here.”

Folding my arms across my chest, I glance back at him. “Fine.” How does he know what I’m thinking? I’m still not sure if I like that he can read my mind or if it freaks me out. I decide to turn things around on him, because I can read him just as well. Rounding on my heel, I march up to him, and poke his chest. “So, a little thought occurred to me.”

Sean smiles down at me. “Really? And what’s that?”

“When did you order this?” One of my brows lifts as the corners of my mouth twitch into a cocky grin. Sean’s eyes dip to my cleavage, which is being thrust upward by my folded arms.

When he looks back into my eyes, he says, “When you weren’t looking.”

“You’re always looking.”

“Yes, I am. There’s a lot to look at.” Sean winks at me and my stomach dips. The man is sex on legs. Everything he does makes me melt.

I try to ignore the sensations flooding through me. “You’re changing the subject, Mr. Jones.”

“You’re very perceptive, Miss Smith.”

“So?”

He laughs and looks away, mirroring my pose. Sean’s tight black T shirt hugs his arms and when he folds them, I can see each toned curve. The compulsion to drag my tongue across his muscles and then slowly lick his toned chest fills my mind. “Smitty?”

“What?” My imaginary lick was inching closer to his waist by the time I blink and glance up at him.

“You have that look on your face—the one that means your head is filled with dirty thoughts.” He hooks his fingers in my waistband and tugs me toward him.

“My head is always filled with dirty thoughts when you’re around. You broke me.”

He kisses my cheek lightly. “I think you have that backwards. You were broken before and I fixed you.” My smile fades as I look into his eyes. Sean cups my face and asks, “What is it?”

“This seems so impossible. I just want to be with you. Is that so hard?”

Sean lowers his head, inching closer for a kiss, when there’s a bang at the door again. He releases me and gestures for me to open it. I wanted that kiss.

Crossing the room, I yank open the door and look up at the delivery guy. He’s got a huge box—huge, as in I could live in it when I get dropped from all my classes next week—tied to a hand truck. I step aside and let him bring it in. Sean slips some money into the man’s hand before he leaves. When the door closes, I race toward the box. There are no markings on it, no indication of what’s inside.

“Are you sure this is safe? What if it’s something bad?”

“It’s not. I know what it is. You can open it.”

I grin at him. It’s one of those ear-to-ear smiles, and I pat the palms of my hands together as I decide which part of the super-thick box to pull apart first. What the heck is in there? I can’t even imagine what would make him blush like that, after everything we’ve already done.

Sean pulls a knife from his waistband and slices through the tape. Well, it’s good to know what he was reaching for before. He tucks the knife back behind him before saying, “Well, open it. I want to know what you think.”

I squeal and yank at the cardboard, pulling back the sides of the box. The inside is reinforced and filled with a ton of packaging peanuts. I nearly fall into the container trying to swipe the little bits of foam away with my arm. Sean watches me silently with his arms across his chest and one hand by his lips. He’s nervous. It’s so cute, I could die.

I stop and look up at him with packaging peanuts clinging to my arms. “There is something in here, right? Or did you just send me an empty box? Because I’d be okay with that.” I’m ready to dive in when Sean laughs and steps towards me.

He grabs my waist and yanks me back. “There’s something in there. You can’t jump in the box, you lunatic.”

“I’m so playing with the box.”

Sean laughs lightly and looks over his shoulder as he reaches into the box, digging around for whatever is in there. “Kids never want the toy, only the box. Maybe I should send this back?” When he stands, he has the corner of something. It’s wrapped in opaque plastic, but it looks like the end of a couch.

Seriously? I stand there, staring, my jaw hanging open as he lifts out a backless sofa and puts it on the floor by the old one that’s covered in Amber germs. The shape of the thing is really weird and not very tall. It looks like a bench that fell out of a Salvador Dalí painting.

Sean lets out a rush of air and turns to look at me. “Well?”

“You bought me furniture?”

“Not exactly. Open it.” Sean steps away and slips his hands into his pockets. I can tell he’s super proud of this present. I try to smile, like it’s better than beans, but it’s furniture. How’s that romantic? Besides, there’s a big empty box filled with packaging peanuts and it’s totally calling my name.

I step toward the couchy thing and pull the wrapping off. When I’m done I’m looking down at a very modern piece of white furniture. It has sweeping, smooth lines that form two separate humps with a little place to sit in between. I start to smile, but try to repress my grin as I drag my fingers across the supple leather surface.

“Well?”

Oh fuck. He’s so excited and I want to laugh my ass off. Why does this turn him on? Does he have a furniture fetish I’m unaware of? I have a goofy smirk on my lips when I sit in the center dip and look up at him. My mouth hangs open for a second, but the grin doesn’t fade. I pat the curves of leather and finally manage, “Sean, I don’t know what to say. I think you’ve seriously rendered me speechless.”

His certainty fades. “Why?”

“Because, you bought me a camel-toe couch.” I’m sitting there with an incredulous look on my face when Sean bursts out laughing. It’s not the kind of light laugh when you think something is mildly entertaining, either. It’s a full blown, belly laugh. I should have been a comedian. I’m a riot and seriously have no idea why he’s laughing, because this is the ugliest couch I’ve ever seen. I’m not into modern. Even Marty knows that.

When Sean stops laughing he gives me a look. “You seriously don’t know what this is?”

Obviously not, assuming his belly-laughter was any indication. So I pat it again and smile up at him, saying more certainly, “Of course I do. It’s a one of a kind, camel-toe couch. For when yoga pants aren’t enough. Do you have some weird thing for large horse-like animals with boobs that I need to know about, or does this stem back to a deranged camel-toe fetish?”

Sean doesn’t reply. Instead the smirk slips off his face as he moves quickly. Before I know what happened, he’s lifting me and then lowers me onto his lap. Sean sits under me in the center of the dip and my legs are wrapped around his waist. I gasp as he pushes me back against one of the leather humps and runs his hands up under my shirt, and cups my breasts. “It’s a sex chair, one of the best in the world. Now I can have you anyway I want.”

I’m still not getting it, so he shows me. He lifts and pivots me, before I sit back down on his lap, facing away from him. My feet reach the floor, making it easier to do things—like ride him hard and fast. He directs me to lean forward and lean against the larger curve of the couch. I do so and he kneels behind me, pressing against my backside. I can feel how much he wants me through his pants as he whispers into my ear, “Thinking of being with you on this chair has been driving me crazy.”