“Nice tits on her, though,” Eric says, and my brows knit together, irked by his comment.

Just then there’s a knock at the door.

“Pizza’s here!” Eric shouts then glances over at Reece, eyeing his underwear. “You gonna eat pepperonis in your zebra panties?”

Reece huffs and grabs his crotch. “I’ll show you a pepperoni.”

“Mine’s bigger than yours,” Eric calls out as Reece gets up and heads to his bedroom.

“You wish!” Reece shouts back before shutting his door.

“Bickering like two little old ladies,” I murmur, heading down the hallway to get the pizza.

But when I open the door, it’s not the pizza guy.

It’s her.

She’s here, standing at the bottom of the porch steps.

11

Zack

My chest feels like it’s taken a gunshot, which is weird, because I just saw her a few hours ago.

Sugar. I say her name in my head, and it’s just as sweet as she looks.

Tonight she’s wearing a pair of black skinny jeans, ankle boots with a heel, and a slightly cropped, snug pale blue fuzzy sweater that hugs the curves of her full breasts. Her face is oval-shaped, her skin perfect with a straight nose that has a sprinkling of freckles across the bridge. Her eyes are slightly upturned with dark brown brows arching over them, giving her an exotic look. A deep wine color accentuates her pillowy lips, the lower one fuller and luscious with that deep indentation right smack in the middle. Blood rushes to my cock at the mental image of her on her knees, taking me into her lush mouth, sliding around me while I— Get it together.

I open my mouth to say something—maybe Hello or What are you doing here?—but then I shut it.

My chest squeezes as I take her in all over again.

She must not have heard me open the door, and she’s distracted, muttering to someone on the phone as she looks down at a box in her hands. I don’t even look at it too hard because she is all I want to soak in, and so I focus on her porcelain face, taking in the long black lashes resting against her cheeks. She’s not wearing her glasses, and I wait for those thick lashes to rise and those eyes to meet mine. She raises her head, and fuck, I think my knees might buckle as we stare at each other. There’s a hint of green around the blue, something I didn’t notice before because, well— I suck in a steadying breath.

Seeing her again, taking in the similarities between her and Willow…it overwhelms me, a Pandora’s box of feelings that pull me back into the past, into memories of a girl I hurt…

How could I have ever missed noticing her on campus?

“Who is it?” calls Eric as he pops up behind me and takes a gander at her. “Oh, shit, hey, baby,” he says, a silky tone of appreciation in his voice. “You delivering pizza? Remind me to order from Rizzi’s every night. Nice, nice.”

“Uh, no,” she says after ending the phone call. “I’m here for Zack.”

I reach back and elbow him, and a smile curls her lips. I follow the movement, jealous of anyone who’s ever been on the receiving end of that.

Who has she kissed? Who was the friend she met today? Who does she fuck?

“Dude, you gonna invite her in or what?” Eric nudges me and I shake it off then clear my throat, opening the door wide so she can take the few steps inside the foyer.

The room feels heavier, more exciting, with her here, and I swallow. “Need some help with Robert Frost?” Lame—so lame. I mean, I pretty much challenged her to find me with that note I left.

She indicates her pink box. “No, I meant to say something in class, but I wanted to say thank you for returning my coat. It was kind of you to bring it over, especially after how we left things.” She pauses, chewing on her lips. A nervous laugh slips from her mouth. “I thought for sure it was a lost cause to try to get it back, especially since I can never show my face at the Kappa house again.”

“Because of me?” I don’t want that.

She shakes her head. “God, no. Other people. It’s a long story involving a frat boy who misinterpreted when I accidentally blinked at him—not winked—and his very jealous girlfriend.”

I have to grin at her expression of horror. “Who? Should I kick his ass?”

“No one important, trust me.”

“So…you do know where I live. Have to say, I’m impressed.”

She rolls her eyes. “All it took was a visit to one of the sorority girls on my floor. You’ll be flattered to know she even knows your current hockey stats, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she has a picture of you hanging on her wall with a heart drawn around your face.” She sighs. “People are rather nuts over you.”

“Everyone but you?” I grin.

“I do not have a picture of you anywhere. I have better things to do.”

“So you say.” I laugh. Man, I like this banter. And damn, she actually came to see me…

She shifts from one leg to the other, her eyes darting from mine to the box. “I hope you like this.”

“Is it Gwyneth Paltrow’s head?”

She gives me a surprised glance.

I smirk. “Like in the movie Seven?”

She nods. “Saw it, loved it—so dark—and no, there’s no head inside.” She smiles. “I know my movies—especially the ones with Brad Pitt.” A small laugh comes from her. “Mara has a thing for him. Well, she has a thing for a lot of movie stars.” She takes in my arched brow. “Mara’s my guardian. She’s family, but not blood, ya know?”

I nod. I’m trying to listen, but shit, she’s so fucking gorgeous, and the way her eyes light up when she’s talking…

Eric is still behind me, looking over my shoulder—nosy bastard—and I turn to see him checking Sugar out. He’s cramming Cap’n Crunch in his mouth at the same time, and the effect is pretty much an overgrown child. I smack him on the arm when we walk past him.

“Ow! What the hell did I do?” he says.

I lead Sugar into the kitchen area.

She eases into the room carefully, taking in my place as if she’s unsure about coming inside. Everything about her screams uncertainty and unease, and absurdly I want to make her feel at home.

She runs her gaze over the space, a small craftsman style house, older but with a semi-fresh coat of pale beige paint on the walls, crown molding in the den, and nice, tall baseboards throughout. Our furnishings are newish and from IKEA, everything clean, modern, and functional. My dad bought all of it for me when I signed my scholarship for Hawthorne, and I think part of him just wanted to make me happy, to fill that black hole of grief I had. After graduation, Reece and Eric will stay here, and after that, my dad will probably sell it for a profit.

“Nice house.” She turns to face me.

“Thanks.” I stick my hands in my pockets. “So if there’s no head in the box, what did you bring?”

Eric starts singing the Justin Timberlake and Andy Samberg song “Dick in a Box”, and I shake my head at him. “Show some restraint.”

He pouts. “But if you ask what’s in the box, that’s where my head goes.”

A slow bloom of color starts at her neck and makes its way up her neck to her cheeks. I watch the pulse that beats erratically at her throat, and my shoulders rise as I inhale her scent, light with a hint of vanilla. “Ignore Eric. He gets excited when anyone comes to see us, even the guy who delivers the mail. He always goes out there and talks his damn head off.”

She gives us a sheepish look. “The box has pie in it.”

“You made me a pie?” I blink.

“Yeah. Stupid idea?”

I shake my head. “Hell, no. I like to eat.”

She bites her lip.

“Score!” Eric says. “What kind? Is it chocolate? I love chocolate. Man, that shit is the bomb.”

She laughs. “I’ll remember that and make you one next time.”

“Cool.” He gives her a fist bump.

“Don’t you have an episode of The Bachelor to watch?” I say to him.

He shrugs, gets a good look at my face, and laughs. “I guess so, but I want a piece of that.” His gaze lingers on Sugar and the box before he wanders back into the den and cranks up the TV. Good. Dude is my best friend, but he’s also a horn dog.

I turn back to Sugar. “Thank you for the gift.”

“If I can set this somewhere…”

“Of course, sure.” I’m feeling discombobulated, stiff, and a bit off, and I edge in front of her to clear off the table. My shoulder brushes hers, and I think I hear her breath hitch.

“Sorry,” I say as I grab my books and plop them in one of the wooden chairs.

“Great, thank you,” she murmurs as she leans over and sets the box down, giving me the perfect view of her heart-shaped ass. She’s willowy and curvy in all the right places, and I tug at my collar.

Last night, that ass was in my hands…