C2 The kiss.

I stepped off the elevator at the all-boys dorm of Main College, inhaling the heavy scent of pizza and alcohol.

From memory, I headed to the room where I’d helped Tyler move years ago. I couldn’t help but wonder why the hell he was still a freshman and how I wanted to address his fraud. As a loner, he’d always been aloof and non-confrontational—which made sense as to why he was paying for his cock’s pleasure—but still ... This theft was unacceptable. My best options were crystal clear: Be an understanding ally who lets him admit his wrongs first, be the mature adult who offers him a payment plan, or rip off his head

and hide the body.

Choosing the first option, I knocked on his door and waited. No answer. I knocked again.

A little louder this time. Nothing. I turned to walk away, but the theme song from the Friendssitcom played from inside. “Open this damn door, Tyler!” I banged on the wood harder than ever. “I know you’re in there! Open it right now!” The sound of furniture scraping the floor came next, and then the door opened.

“How many times do I need to—” The sentence stalled on my lips as he stepped into the doorway wearing nothing but a white towel around his waist. My jaw unhinged as his eyes met mine, and I sucked in a slow, unsteady breath. This man was not the “boy” who I helped to drop off years ago. Either he was a made-over imposter, or my eyes were playing one hell of a trick on me.

This man was sexy as fuck. The unruly, dark hair that once fell too far past his shoulders was now replaced with neatly rimmed locks that any woman would want to run her fingers through. His stunning dark green eyes weren’t hiding behind oversized glasses, and there was a black quote tattoo on his chest where a playground scar used to be. “Accept what is, let go of what was, and have faith in what will be.” As water droplets traveled from his chest to his abs, I knew without a doubt that his days of wearing baggy sweatshirts were long gone. I’d always thought he was “passably cute” whenever I came over to hang with Chelsea, but that escription was officially out of date. He was the sexiest man I’d ever seen, and the competition—even my current boyfriend, wasn’t anywhere close.

“Hello, Harlow,” he said, his voice deep.

“Hello, Thief.” I snapped out of my trance.

“You look tired,” he said. “No offense.”

“You want to know what I don’t look like?” I crossed my arms. “The type of person who would buy ‘fleshlights,’ ‘Make My Penis Big’ pills, and doggy-style videos from a porn site every month.” He raised his eyebrow. “I know you’re desperate since you’ve always been a loner and a virgin for as long as I’ve known your sister, but credit card fraud is a serious crime. There are consequences and repercussions, and cheating bastards have to pay.”

He smiled a set of pearly whites, revealing that his days of having a metal mouth were forever a prologue. “This is the part when you start talking about how you’re planning to pay me back,” I said. “I’ll wait.” He stared at me for several seconds, not saying a word.

“Do I need to repeat myself?” I asked. “If you don’t give me some ideas, I’ll have no choice but to tell your sister and your mom how you’ve been spending your never-ending freshman year.

Between you and me, I doubt they’ll be impressed with your choice to double major in Fapping and Fraud.” “Harlow, I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about,” he said. “So, I doneed to repeat it?” “No.”

He adjusted his towel, and I tried not to stare at what was behind it. “For one, I’ve never paid for porn or bought any sex toys … I’m also not a virgin. Far from it, actually.” My cheeks heated as he looked me up and down.

“I’m also highly confused as to why you think I have your credit card information,” he said.

“Because I used someone to trace it.” I pulled out my phone and showed him the message. “See?

The address leads right to you.”

“It leads to this dorm,” he said. “As a whole. There are one hundred other guys who live here.” “Do they know that you’ve been a freshman for as long as you have?”

“Cancel the card, and I’ll look into it for you tomorrow.”

He looked amused, avoiding my question.

“I’m cool with the guy who works in the postal room, so I’m sure he can figure out which guy is stealing from you.”

I said nothing. A part of me felt stupid for assuming things. The other part of me was now entranced by his full and defined lips. When the hell did you start looking like this?

“This is the part when you apologize to me, Harlow,” he said, smirking. “Now, I’ll wait.”

“I’m sorry you live amongst someone who is willing to steal from your sister’s best friend.

I can only imagine how awful you must feel, knowing that a criminal is within your midst.”

“You’re going to have to do a lot better than that.” “I’m sorry you’re still in college and someone looked deep into the people you know and somehow accessed my credit card. “I don’t think so.” He smiled, and I my stomach flipped. “Try again.” “I’m sorry,” I said, relenting. “I shouldn’t have assumed anything.” “You also should’ve called first .” He leaned against the frame. “What if I had company?” “Do you?” “Depends,” he said, looking me over in a way that made me blush. “Would you like to watch a few episodes with me? For old times’ sake?” I blinked.

He and I hadn’t watched anything together in years. Of course, there was once a time when I could always depend on him to binge the things that Chelsea hated—horror, sci-fi, and anything that was a documentary, but that was back when I was the one in college. Back when I never would dare to think about what his lips would feel like against mine. “I uh—” I stepped back as an image of him pulling me against his rock-hard chest crossed my mind. “I should get back home.” “I’ll give you some gas money if you stay a while.” “In that case, I’m broke enough to watch a few episodes.”

He laughed and motioned for me to come inside. I was surprised at his clean and organized room. Far bigger than any dorm space I’d seen, it didn’t look like a college student lived in it. The bed was on the far side of the room, pressed against a huge bay window. The large TV screen hung high on the wall, guarding a row of neatly stacked boxes. On his bookshelves, there didn’t seem to be any fiction. Only books about physical therapy and pressure relief.

So, you changed your major again. “You know, there’s no shame in dropping out of school, Tyler,” I said. “Whenever people say, ‘Take all the time in the world to find a passion before you graduate,’ they don’t really mean that.” “So, you still have a smart-ass mouth …” “I’m just saying—” I turned my back as he stepped into his bathroom and dressed.

“You don’t have to waste thirty-thousand dollars a year on tuition if you’re not getting anything out of it. You could start your own business or something.” “Maybe I’ve done that already,” he said, stepping beside me and handing me a beer. “You shouldn’t assume things about people.”

I walked over to a pretty golden basket that sat on top of his windowsill, stopping when I realized it was chock-full of condoms. XXL-sized. Double ribbed for ‘her’ pleasure. “Is your business sex-related?” I couldn’t help but ask. “No, Harlow.” He moved behind me. “Not at all. Speaking of sex, though: Do you need to take one of those home with you to fuck a banana with it like you used to? That’s what you and Chelsea used to do during some of your sleepovers, right?”

“Okay, look.” I spun around, my eyes narrowed. “We were seventeen, and it was something we tried once because we heard about it on the radio. You were supposed to be sleeping.” “I wasn’t.”

His lips curved into a smirk. “I was watching—you only, of course.” “Well, hopefully you learned something.” “Everything about what not to do.” “Okay. I don’t think I want to watch episodes with you anymore,” I said, feeling insulted. “Doesn’t seem like that’s why you wanted me to come inside your room.” “Of course, it isn’t.” He pressed his lips against mine, catching me completely off guard—instantly rendering me speechless. What the…

I dropped my beer to the floor, ignoring the splatter that hit my shoes as I wrapped my arms around his neck. He stared into my eyes as he darted his tongue against my bottom lip, silently demanding that I open up a bit wider for him. Entranced, I obliged, and he blew soft kisses against the curve of my mouth before slipping his tongue against mine. Using his hips, he pinned me against the edge of the desk.

Then he rubbed his hands against my sides—turning me on with ease. As he kissed me harder, deeper, I tasted repressed longing and wanting, and I didn’t want him to stop—ever. Fuck…” I rasped. Whispering my name, he slid his hand under the back of my shirt. He pressed his thumb against my bra’s clasp, and I quickly came to my senses. Oh my god, I’m kissing Tyler! Chelsea’s little brother, Tyler! I immediately broke our kiss and moved away from the desk.

“What the hell are you doing?” I panted. “I mean, I know what you’re doing, but … I have a boyfriend, Tyler.”

“I’m aware of that.” “His name is Dave and we’ve been together awhile.” “I’m aware of that, too.”

He looked as if he was about to pull me back into his arms to kiss me again. If I weren’t in the right frame of mind, I would’ve wanted him to.

“Well, I uh …” I tried to look away from him, but I couldn’t.

“I think I need to go home. I have a TV of my own there. And Netflix. I have lots and lots of Netflix.”

He looked at me like I was speaking a foreign language. Not wanting to make this moment any more awkward, I stepped over the empty beer can and walked to the door. He followed, opening it for me. “Can we agree that this—whatever it was—never happened?” I asked, looking up at him.

“Like, I would never cross the line with you. You know that, right?” “Sure.” “I’m serious,” I said, keeping my voice firm. “You’re very attractive, and I’m sure you still love all the same television shows I do, but …” “But what?” “You’re too young for me, Tyler, in addition to other things.”

I walked away before he could say anything else. With every step, I touched my swollen lips in utter awe. No other man had ever kissed me like that. “Harlow?” Tyler called after me once I made it to the elevator.

“Yeah?” I looked over my shoulder. “I forgot the gas money,” he said, walking over to me. He held out a twenty-dollar bill, but he didn’t give me a chance to take it. Instead, he slowly folded it and popped it into the front pocket of my shorts.

“You promise to file this away and never think about it again, right?” I asked. “Of course.”

He hit the down button for me. “This never happened.”