He nods and starts walking away, his hand seeming to reluctantly release mine.
We make our way through accent tables and chairs where he writes down another number from some plain square end tables in red. I don’t know what he’s doing, so I just walk with him, looking at everything and making a mental checklist of possibilities for my dorm room.
The kitchen setups have changed since the last time I was in, and I fall behind. By the time I catch up, he’s almost to the dining room displays. I stay behind him, trying to keep my distance, to keep the itch down, when he begins to meander through the tables, pushing on them as he passes.
My brow knits as I walk over to him.
“What are you doing?”
He blinks at me, then puts his hand on my hip, moving me until I’m in front of him. Before I can ask again, he lifts me onto the table and steps between my thighs.
“B-Brayden?”
His lips twitch into a smirk, and I swear my * starts gushing. The way we’re positioned is so sexual, the urge to link my legs around his waist and pull him closer is impossible to resist.
He looks around before leaning forward, resting a hand beside me, the other on my hip as he rocks into me. His breath is harsh and I grab onto his shirt, but I don’t know whether it’s to push him away or pull him closer.
“Have to make sure it’s a stable surface.”
“For what?” I stare into his eyes. They’re dark and alluring—hypnotic.
His lips ghost mine, threatening to touch. Threatening to melt me.
“To fuck you on.”
The heat of his body, his scent, and his words are a perfect symphony of torture. My thighs squeeze his hips, drawing him closer. I need to feel the hard cock he’s keeping from me.
I want him to do what he says. It’s the perfect height, and I want him to fuck me on it.
He clears his throat and steps back, licking his lips as my hands loosen their grip.
A small whimper leaves me, the tension in my muscles falling away, making me weak.
What the hell is going on?
I’m turned still on from his teasing me in the shower, that’s what. He’s using it to his advantage.
I hop down, refusing to look at him as he writes down the table’s, information.
“Don’t you have a table? Why are you buying all this stuff?”
He glances at me, then away. There’s something he’s hiding from me. I know his tells.
“For my new apartment,” he says, clearing his throat again.
“You’re not keeping the old one?” With Ryan gone, I just assumed Brayden would get a new roommate.
Walking back to the pathway, he turns back to me. “No. We sold everything.”
“Everything?”
He nods. “The furniture. It was too much to move.”
I catch up to him and grab onto his arm, stopping him. “Why didn’t you put it in storage, then? That’s cheaper than buying all new.” What is he hiding from me?
He looks at me, then away, and back again. “I’m not going back to Purdue.”
I stare at him, then shake my head. “What?”
“I guess now’s as good of a time as any.” He pumps his fist in the air. “Go Buckeyes.”
My mouth drops open, the blood that he’d forced into my face falling back into my body. “You transferred?” My voice is barely a whisper.
Oh, God.
No.
No.
He can’t.
He nods, his fingers brushing a lock of hair behind my ear. “I can’t be without you anymore.”
My face scrunches up, and I swat his hand away. “You did fine for the last three years.”
I swallow back the scream that wants to explode. There’s no way I can handle him being on the same campus as me. Not when he can make me want him inside me with just a look. He’s wrecked me, and I was finally going to have a chance to change things.
He shakes his head. “No, I was a mess.” His voice is just above a whisper, the look in his eyes tears at me. “I’ve always been a mess without you.”
I blink back tears. “I don’t believe you.”
His lips form a hard line, and he nods. “I’m working on that.” He attempts to smile, but gives up. “Come on.”
I follow behind him, my emotions all over the place. After all this time, after every way he’s broken me, how can he make me feel like this?
My bottom lip is trapped between my teeth as we go. Walking behind him, I can see the way his muscles flex. He bypasses all the bedroom furniture setups, walking right up to the dressers, wasting no time in writing down the information.
Then it’s the beds. He sits on each one, lays on a few, and I find myself mimicking him again, just like at the couches.
After about five bounces, I find a good one and lay down. It’s soft, but still firm, and makes me want to find a blanket and curl up. I need a nap after the emotional and physical roller coaster that is Brayden.
I’m not alone for long. Brayden climbs up next to me, both on our side, staring at each other.
“Do you have a costume for this weekend?” he asks.
“Yeah."
“What are you going to wear?”
I can barely think, still stunned. “Not telling.”
“I’ll just have to wait and see then.”
“You’re going?”