back in the tent, right?” Dean nodded back over his shoulder. “I think poor Mikey’s been scarred for life.”
Connor’s fingers tingled with the familiar need to curl into fists. “She was into it. Trust me.”
But it made him think. Which one of them had initiated things in the tent, or even the other day on the docks? If he thought about it, the reality was, both times it had been him. And Gabby’s kiss in the truck had taken things at about a quarter of the ridiculously fast pace he’d been careening towards whenever he was around her. Still, she hadn’t so much as flinched when she’d heard a few more details about the reckless kid he’d been. She said she saw more in him, and that made him want to show her everything.
Dean bumped a fist against his shoulder. “All I’m saying is, she doesn’t seem like your type. And you probably shouldn’t get involved anyway. She’s outta here in a few weeks. Not the best time for you to get all emo over a girl.”
It was a little late for that.
And she was leaving but not yet. He still had time to get this right.
Chapter Nine
On Saturday morning, Gabriella didn’t jump out of bed as usual, ready to start the day. She just lay there, staring at the ceiling. She’d been awake half the night, her pulse pounding in anticipation, too excited to sleep. In a few hours, she’d be spending the day with Connor—an entire day away from her research and her doubts, filled instead with clean mountain air and him by her side.
As if she’d have been able to get any work done anyway. She was supposed to have spent Friday working, but her thesis prep remained untouched, especially after getting an email from Connor confirming their plans for today. She hadn’t been able to think about anything but him since he dropped her off two days ago.
She turned her head to glare at where her laptop sat folded up on her desk, shadows crossing over the cover. Outside her window, wind chased the early morning sunlight through the tree limbs. The sight made her sigh. The angle of the sun was already a little bit different than it had been when she first got here in early June. Although this part of the summer once held so much promise for her, today it was a reminder of how the clock was ticking. She was running out of time before the fall semester began, but it was impossible for her to concentrate on that now.
She still hadn’t quite recovered from what Connor did to her in the tent at the park or the way he kissed her in Dean’s truck. How he’d gripped her with that one big hand and pulled her to him, every line in his body stretched tight as a wire. Gabriella closed her eyes at the memory. Even when she’d been so sure what they had wasn’t going anywhere, he’d proved her wrong. This thing between them was another paradox: him the unstoppable force and her, the immovable object. A duality, and both could not be true at once. If an irresistible power existed, then it logically followed that that there couldn’t be any such thing as an unyielding entity, so how much longer could she deny what she craved? With Connor, she’d finally found a glimpse of what she’d been looking for, even though locking up that side of her was the thing she came to Portland to square away. She thought she had to prove to herself she couldn’t be both sides of the coin, that she had to pick one way to be, that there was no way to be both. All her logic was failing her.
“If A equals B, then if you do the same thing to A and to B, the results will be equal,” she said to the empty room. “I am ‘A’: an intelligent, independent woman, a mathematician who wants a successful career.”
But if that was true, then could she be the same woman who was willing—no, eager— to let Connor grind against her in public, with no shame about who might catch them? She couldn’t, and yet, she was. She was both A and B, two halves of the same, and both wanted Connor to fuck her senseless.
She threw
Connor’s fingers tingled with the familiar need to curl into fists. “She was into it. Trust me.”
But it made him think. Which one of them had initiated things in the tent, or even the other day on the docks? If he thought about it, the reality was, both times it had been him. And Gabby’s kiss in the truck had taken things at about a quarter of the ridiculously fast pace he’d been careening towards whenever he was around her. Still, she hadn’t so much as flinched when she’d heard a few more details about the reckless kid he’d been. She said she saw more in him, and that made him want to show her everything.
Dean bumped a fist against his shoulder. “All I’m saying is, she doesn’t seem like your type. And you probably shouldn’t get involved anyway. She’s outta here in a few weeks. Not the best time for you to get all emo over a girl.”
It was a little late for that.
And she was leaving but not yet. He still had time to get this right.
Chapter Nine
On Saturday morning, Gabriella didn’t jump out of bed as usual, ready to start the day. She just lay there, staring at the ceiling. She’d been awake half the night, her pulse pounding in anticipation, too excited to sleep. In a few hours, she’d be spending the day with Connor—an entire day away from her research and her doubts, filled instead with clean mountain air and him by her side.
As if she’d have been able to get any work done anyway. She was supposed to have spent Friday working, but her thesis prep remained untouched, especially after getting an email from Connor confirming their plans for today. She hadn’t been able to think about anything but him since he dropped her off two days ago.
She turned her head to glare at where her laptop sat folded up on her desk, shadows crossing over the cover. Outside her window, wind chased the early morning sunlight through the tree limbs. The sight made her sigh. The angle of the sun was already a little bit different than it had been when she first got here in early June. Although this part of the summer once held so much promise for her, today it was a reminder of how the clock was ticking. She was running out of time before the fall semester began, but it was impossible for her to concentrate on that now.
She still hadn’t quite recovered from what Connor did to her in the tent at the park or the way he kissed her in Dean’s truck. How he’d gripped her with that one big hand and pulled her to him, every line in his body stretched tight as a wire. Gabriella closed her eyes at the memory. Even when she’d been so sure what they had wasn’t going anywhere, he’d proved her wrong. This thing between them was another paradox: him the unstoppable force and her, the immovable object. A duality, and both could not be true at once. If an irresistible power existed, then it logically followed that that there couldn’t be any such thing as an unyielding entity, so how much longer could she deny what she craved? With Connor, she’d finally found a glimpse of what she’d been looking for, even though locking up that side of her was the thing she came to Portland to square away. She thought she had to prove to herself she couldn’t be both sides of the coin, that she had to pick one way to be, that there was no way to be both. All her logic was failing her.
“If A equals B, then if you do the same thing to A and to B, the results will be equal,” she said to the empty room. “I am ‘A’: an intelligent, independent woman, a mathematician who wants a successful career.”
But if that was true, then could she be the same woman who was willing—no, eager— to let Connor grind against her in public, with no shame about who might catch them? She couldn’t, and yet, she was. She was both A and B, two halves of the same, and both wanted Connor to fuck her senseless.
She threw
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