Wild

“No.” She shook her head, her beautiful auburn waves tossing around her shoulders. “Reece offered on a house last week and he got it! It’s so cute! It’s this little bungalow over on Smithson Avenue. I can’t wait to show you.” Reece reached for her waist and she moved in closer, sinking down on his lap so easily. So naturally. It had never been that way with Harris and me, I realized. It never felt easy or natural, and a pang struck me in the chest for the four years I’d wasted on something that had been so far from right.

Reece rested a hand on Pepper’s jean-clad thigh. It was casual, but there was something possessive in the touch. It hinted at a shared intimacy and that sparked a deep longing awake inside me. I had never known that kind of intimacy. I was no virgin, but some things still felt so foreign to me.

“I can’t wait to see it,” I said.

“We’re moving in next week.”

Next week. My stomach dropped. “W-wow. Really?”

A house. That seemed so permanent. So grown-up. I looked between the two of them, marveling that Pepper had this. That she had found the one. Love. I had no doubt, looking at them, that they were the real thing, and I felt a little foolish for thinking that I had had that with Harris. Now I knew. I never had that.

Pepper nodded, her arm draped around him, her fingers idly rubbing his muscled shoulder through his T-shirt. “Yeah.” The word slipped past her smiling lips.

“Congratulations,” I repeated. “I’m so happy for both of you.”

Pepper looked back at me. “I know we planned on living together again next year—”

“Don’t worry about that. Emerson and I can put in for a single. Or maybe see if Suzanne wants to join us.” Assuming Emerson wasn’t moving in with Shaw.

“When are you heading back for the summer?” Pepper asked. “I wish you didn’t have to go.”

“Yeah. Me, too.”

“Then stay.”

“My mom would flip. And I don’t have a place to stay anyway.” Emerson was staying at her dad’s condo in Boston. At least that was the cover story. She would be at Shaw’s most of the time. Her dad was hardly ever in Boston, so he wouldn’t know.

“Oh! I just had an idea.” She looked at Reece eagerly. “Georgia could stay in your old apartment above Mulvaney’s.”

He shrugged and nodded at me. “Sure. It will be vacant. You could stay there a couple months.”

“That’s really nice of you, but Mom has a job lined up for me back home for the summer.”

“If you need a job over the summer, you could work at Mulvaney’s,” Reece offered. “We have two spots opening up for the summer.”

Working at a bar? My mom would have a coronary. “Thanks, but I kind of have to go.”

Pepper wrinkled her nose. “To that bank you don’t want to work at. You’re going to work there?”

Admittedly, Reece’s offer was tempting. Staying here over the summer. Having an apartment to myself. Working at Mulvaney’s—having a job where I didn’t have to wear a suit and be “on” and impress everyone so they would go back and say great things to my mother about me. It sounded like heaven.

Reece must have seen something in my face. “Think about it, Georgia. Since Pepper and I just bought the new house, the apartment is there if you want it. And with the second Mulvaney’s open across town, we’re looking for new staff. If you need work, it’s there.”

I nodded. “Thanks. I’ll think about it.” And I realized they weren’t just words I was uttering to placate him. I really would think about it. Long into the night.

I went for pizza with Reece, Pepper, and Suzanne from down the hall. Emerson and Shaw met up with us, too. Thankfully, I didn’t feel like such a third wheel with Suzanne there.

Over slices of Greek and Hawaiian pizza, we all talked about our summer plans. Suzanne was going home part of the summer to house-sit while her parents went on a month-long Mediterranean cruise. I sighed internally. I wish my parents would go on a month-long cruise. Maybe then going home wouldn’t feel like such an impending tragedy.

Pepper and Reece talked animatedly about their new place and the newly opened Mulvaney’s across town. Okay, Pepper was mostly the animated one. Reece just watched her with a sexy smile on his face.

Aside from the garage Shaw would soon be opening, Emerson and Shaw were excited about a new client who had just commissioned three bikes from them—and Emerson had an offer from a fancy gallery in Boston to feature a collection of her work next month. The happy vibes were almost smothering me.

My phone rang once as Emerson was coaxing me into sharing a slice of tiramisu with her. A glance down confirmed what I already suspected. It was Mom. I let it go to voicemail, determined to enjoy dinner out with my friends.

When I returned to my room later, I played Mom’s message. It was a reminder for me to call Mr. Berenger first thing Monday morning.

Sighing, I got ready for bed, telling myself I’d call him Monday afternoon after my morning classes.

Settling into bed, I stared into the dark. Thin orange light bled in through the blinds’ slats. I focused on my to-do list for tomorrow and Monday. Study for exams. On Monday I needed to meet with my advisor regarding my course selection for next year. And now I needed to call about the bank job.

Sighing, I rolled onto my side. I needed to get some boxes and start thinking about packing up my stuff, too. Just three more weeks and the semester would be over. There was plenty else to occupy my mind . . . so why did I keep thinking about that kiss? Why did my mind keep going back to Logan? His face was there so clearly. The searing blue eyes. Those lips that were always grinning—except when I was kissing him. And when he was kissing me back.

My hand dragged up my stomach to cup my breast. I was a healthy C cup. There was more than enough for my hand, but I wondered how I would fit in Logan’s palm. And that made my breath catch. My fingers brushed my nipple and then squeezed it harder. A small whimper escaped me as my mind played over last night.

I wiggled on the bed, an ache starting between my thighs as I worked my fingers over my breast. My lips tingled, remembering the press of Logan’s warm mouth on mine, moving surely . . . his tongue. Wishing it had been more. Wishing I hadn’t run away.

Idiot. Wrenching my hand off myself, I rolled over onto my side, punching my pillow with my fist twice, feeling somewhat better and vowing to forget about Logan. He was not the kind of guy I needed to fixate on. I knew the kind of guy that worked best for me . . . If I found him, great. If not, then I was just fine alone. I had a bright future with or without a guy in it.