At some point, while reading, I started to cry. There’s a single tear waiting to fall from my eye, and I let it go. I read the entire message twice and then I delete it from my phone because I don’t want to be tempted to read it again, and I don’t want Rowe to see it. I know there’s a chance she’ll realize what she’s done eventually, but I will never bring it up. These words were private—not even meant for Josh. But reading them was just the slap in my face that I needed.

Before I can stop myself—maybe before the sense has enough time to settle in my head—I sprint from the ball fields, through campus, and to the dorms. I take the steps two at a time until I get to our floor, and I’m not even careful or quiet when I pound on her door. Light shines underneath it, so I know I’m not waking anyone; I take a deep breath when I see the shadow interrupt the light.

“Nate, it’s okay. I’m not that embarrassed. But if you bring it up again…” She’s talking through the door, and I can tell she’s looking at me through the peephole. I brace both of my arms on either side of the frame and press my forehead against the wood.

“Just open the damn door, Rowe,” I say, unable to contain the need building inside of me.

“Nate, I’m leaving tomorrow. Let’s just talk when I get back.”

“Rowe, I swear to god, if you don’t open the door I’m going to break it,” I know I’m probably frightening her, and I don’t want to. But I need her to act—I can’t have her hide, not now.

When I hear the lock twist, I grab the handle and turn it to push her door open before she or I have any time to react and think better of what I’m about to do. She’s wearing a dry shirt but the same small cotton shorts, and her hair is still damp and long against her back. Her eyes are wide while she stumbles backward a few tiny steps as I barrel into her room. I scan it quickly to make sure she’s alone, not that it would matter or stop me, but she is.

I close the distance between us quickly, and before she has time to protest, I reach my fingers deep into her wet hair with both of my hands, lifting her face toward mine just enough for my lips to touch hers, and I kiss her hard. I can feel her body shake at first, and her hands press lightly against my chest, but they stop fighting me quickly. I suck at her top lip until it’s firmly between both of mine, leaving just enough space for my tongue to brush against hers, and when I feel her tongue move against mine, I pull her even closer into me.

Her hands grab at the back of my shirt, almost like she’s fighting herself, until finally she submits, and I feel the smoothness of her palms and fingers trail up my back, to my chest, and over my shoulder until she’s grabbing my hair, pushing my mouth into hers even harder.

I walk her backward until her body is pressed flat against the wall, and I hold her hands hostage against it, her arms trapped along the sides of her body, while I press kisses along her neck and chin. I don’t want to push things, but I need to make sure she feels me, everything I’m feeling. I know I shouldn’t have read that message she sent, but I’m glad I did. It was all the proof I needed that there was this opening here, however small, and I need to step through it, crawl inside her heart. Otherwise, she’s just going to continue to fight to keep me out.

My body is pressed against hers, and I can feel her aching for me, so I slide my hands along her collarbone, trailing my fingers down her neck and shoulders until my thumbs find the hardness of her ni**les. When I touch her there, she moans, and my will to stop nearly dissolves.

“Where’s Cass?” I breathe heavily into her ear.

“Out. With Paige.” She’s panting, her hands digging into my shoulders and her forehead pressed against mine, her eyes closed tightly.

“Look at me,” I say, needing to know she’s feeling this. I don’t want her forcing herself to do something. I want her to want to be here, to remember this, to obsess over it until she comes back to me. I want her to want more—more of me.

“I will wait for you,” I say, and her breath catches quickly, her eyes watering almost instantly. “Do you hear me?”

She nods yes. Her movement is small, but it is there.

“For as long as it takes. Forever if I have to. I’ll wait forever, okay?” Everything base and male inside me wants to lock her door and strip her clothes away so I can taste and touch every inch of her body until I come undone inside of her—but, I know that asking anything more from her would be me being selfish. And she already feels selfish enough for both of us. So I’ll wait, just like I said I would.