I stare at him, perplexed. “I wasn’tbrooding.”
“You were, but that means it’s not over her. So, it must’ve been aboutZeke.”
Beck stares past me, and I follow his gaze to a big poster by the door advertising the annual fall showcase atVanier.
“You want to get Zeke’s attention?” he drawls, grinning. “Close the fallshowcase.”
I’ve been so focused on getting my contract back and getting out of Vanier I haven’t stopped to think about what to do if I stay thissemester.
It’s a big deal. Everyone gets written up in the media, and whoever is selected to close gets a ten-grandhonorarium.
“It’s not the worst idea,” I tellhim.
“I’m full of ‘em today. Really getting into this mentoring thing. My girl’s a peach. And cute.” My spine stiffens as he continues. “I know you said not to go there, but Ty, you met her. She’s fucking adorable. And that voice... I wanna record her saying my name when shecomes.”
I step closer, my chest tightening. “She’s not your girl.” The words are out before I can stopthem.
His grin turns smug. “She came to me needing something today. I gave it toher.”
“What exactly did you giveher?”
Before Beck can answer, the sound of applause echoes as performerschange.
I glance at the girl taking the stage and freeze an inch from pummeling myroommate.
Even twenty feet from the stage, Annie’s dark-rimmed eyes seem to reach straight into mysoul.
Her hair’s dark and waving over her shoulders. I stopped dying my hair, and shestarted.
She’s wearing high-heeled boots and tight jeans and a shirt—if you can call it a shirt—that pushes up her breasts and stops halfway down herstomach.
My abs clenchhard.
I can’t decide which part is most responsible for my reaction: the long line of her legs or the soft shadowed dip between her breasts or the slick lips, shiny as if she’s been sucking onthem.
She looks ripe, like fruit you’ve been impatiently waiting to soften, telling yourself it’s not timeyet.
Annie lifts a guitar over her head, and Beck whistlesadmiringly.
“What do you know? My manatee talked herself into a slot at Leo’s. I tell you, Ty, this girl might be it forme.”
“Put your dick back in.” My quick retort surprises both ofus.
The woman on the stage isn’t the girl I fell for two years ago. It should be comforting to knowthat.
Instead, it’s disconcerting ashell.
A body bumps mine, a girl blinking at me with apology and thinly veiled invitation. I barely notice, shoving my hands in my pockets as my gaze locks on thestage.
Beck’s watching me, though his phone’s trained on the stage. “You want hertoo.”
“That’s bullshit.” I shove both hands through my hair, trying to fight the discomfort clawing at myinsides.
“Look at you. You’re amess.”
The woman whose hair sways as she bends the strings of the guitar, fingers picking the opening chords of a song, isn’t the girl I fellfor.
Which means Annie’sgone.