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  Looking thoughtful, she nods. “Being friends sounds like it might be good for both of you.”

  “I think he’s interested in being more than just friends.” As soon as the words escape from my mouth, I wish I could suck them back in again. Honestly, I don’t even know why I told her that. It doesn’t matter what Luke wants. At some point he’ll have to accept that we can’t be anything more than friends.

  Tilting her head to the side, she asks, “And how do you feel about that?”

  Biting down on my lower lip I consider just how truthful to be. But the thing is, if there’s one place where I can admit the unvarnished truth, where I can lay myself bear, it’s here in this office. “Confused,” I finally admit. Once I whisper the word, I realize what a relief it is to say it out loud.

  “Why is that?”

  I shrug, not completely understanding it myself. “Well, before we sat down and spoke, all I’d wanted to do was avoid him. Seeing Luke was nothing more than an ugly reminder of what had happened,” then I amend more quietly, “what almost happened to me.”

  It’s softly that she probes, “But it no longer feels that way?”

  “No, it doesn’t. Talking everything out with him felt somehow… freeing.” I glance away for just a moment as I try wrapping my mind around all of the strange thoughts and feelings that are coursing through me. “The entire time I was at Dartmouth, he’s the only one who tried helping me.”

  “I suppose that’s true.” Again she picks up her note pad and jots down a few things. “It seems as if that experience has formed a bond between the two of you.”

  “Yes,” I admit quietly, “that’s exactly the way it feels.” How could it not? How could I not feel something more than friendship for him? I suppose that’s exactly where my confusion stems from.

  After a moment she finally says, “It’s not uncommon for people who have a shared traumatic experience to end up befriending one another, becoming involved in each other’s lives.” She allows those words to sink in before continuing, “What kind of feelings are you having for-”

  She looks at me, eyebrows raised, waiting for me to supply a letter.

  “Ah, W.”

  For Wellington.

  Luke Wellington.

  Because Dr. Thompson sees a number of students on campus, she had previously asked me to use a letter when I referred to someone in our sessions. My code letter for Cole was M.

  For Mathews.

  Cole Mathews.

  “So, what kind of feelings are you having for W?”

  Almost unconsciously I start twisting my fingers together in my lap. Except, it’s not unconscious at all. It’s a nervous habit I’ve picked up along the way. “I just feel very confused,” I finally admit softly. I don’t understand these feelings or how they could have sprung up so quickly between us. I also know that Cole isn’t thrilled with me befriending Luke either. The last thing I want is for my friendship with Luke to cause problems with Cole.

  “How so?”

  I shrug my shoulders not really wanting to verbalize my feelings out loud. Somehow I know that releasing them into the atmosphere will end up feeling like a betrayal to Cole. And I don’t want to betray him.

  “We barely know one another and yet I feel this strange closeness to him. It doesn’t make sense to me.”

  Again she tilts her head to the side as she asks, “Is that necessarily a bad thing?”

  “I don’t know.” I shrug before shaking my head. “It makes me feel guilty.”

  “Guilty?” She prompts.

  “Because of of M.”

  Then she asks what I’ve been too afraid to think about. “Are you sexually attracted to W?”

  Shifting in my chair, my fingers begin to play with the hem of my shirt. “A little bit,” I admit quietly. My heart pounds as I release the words because I don’t want to feel like this.

  Dr. Thompson smiles patiently before saying in that soothing way of hers, “It’s perfectly normal to feel attracted to other people, Cassidy. There is nothing wrong with that. It’s what you do with that attraction that matters.”

  But that’s the problem. I don’t want to feel attracted to him at all. “I think my issue lies in that I feel this strange closeness to him. I think that’s why I feel attracted to him.” And what makes it worse is that he feels the same way towards me.

  And he isn’t afraid to say it either.

  Which is scary.

  “You shared a very personal experience with him, something that ties you two together in a very intimate way. It would be difficult not to feel connected to him.”

  Blowing out a long slow breath, I silently wonder what the best course of action is. And I really wish Dr. Thompson would just tell me what that is. But I know she won’t because this is something I’m going to have to figure out on my own.

  All I can do is follow my heart and hope that no one gets hurt.

  Chapter Five

  “You know what you’re wearing is the complete antithesis of sexy, right?”

  Not really caring, I glance down at the blue scrubs and fake stethoscope dangling from around my neck before arching a brow at Brooklyn. Her assessment of my Halloween costume isn’t exactly wrong.

  “I wasn’t going for sexy.” Unlike a certain someone who shall remain nameless, I’m not trolling for a little hook up action tonight.

  Brooklyn, who just so happens to be a champ at multitasking, adds the finishing touches to her smoky eye, before huffing, “Well mission accomplished, Nurse Jackie, because no one could possibly mistake you for sexy.”

  My brows snap together at that. “That’s Dr. Jameson, to you.”

  Her only reaction is to roll her eyes. After two and a half months of rooming together, I’m more than used to it. In fact, I would even go so far as to say I’m barely affected by it at all.

  Brooklyn’s costume, on the other hand, oozes sexiness. She has all but poured herself into a tight black bodysuit before adding a pair of midnight colored cat ears which are perched in her wild mane of wavy blonde hair. She’s also pinned a tail on her backend and has black whiskers painted across her cheeks.

  I’m almost afraid of the trouble she’ll find tonight.

  And the comments…

  My god the comments.

  I can all but hear them now.

  That feeling only intensifies as I continue studying her. “Is there any way I can talk you out of wearing that?”

  She turns to me with a big grin before shaking her head. “Nope.” She makes the word sound more like- nooooooope before popping the P at the end.

  I arch a brow before muttering, “There will be no end to the pussy comments you’ll have to endure.”

  Her eyes turn decidedly sly. “As long as they’re made by hot, muscly-type football players, I’m perfectly fine with it.”

  Ugh. Bad answer. “Fine. Let’s go then.”

  A few girls from the floor catch a ride with us as we all pile into Cole’s electric blue Mustang. I love his car. It’s sexy as hell just like he is. Apparently I’m not the only one lacking in creativity because Cole is wearing his hockey jersey with a pair of jeans. The pads make his shoulders look huge.

  And yeah… sexy as hell.

  The party is at one of the houses on Greek row and as we turn onto the street, it’s hard to tell which party we’re hitting because there are about seven or eight others already in full swing. Tons of people crowd the streets, obviously staggering from one party to another. Both Brooklyn and Cole warned me about how crazy it gets here on Halloween.

  Guess they weren’t lying.

  With my hand firmly ensconced in Cole’s, we wind our way through the thick press of bodies. Brooklyn is right behind me talking with Olivia, a girl from our floor. In takes about five minutes to push our way into the kitchen where the lighting is dim but decent. Cole grabs us both waters because he doesn’t drink once hockey starts up and after the debacle that was last year, I’ve pretty much lost my appetite for alcoholic beverage
s. Once in a while I’ll have a drink or two but that’s about it.

  He offers one to Brooklyn but her eyes go flat as she narrows them at someone across the crowded room before saying, “Yeah, I’m going to need something a hell of a lot stronger than that to make it through tonight.”

  There’s only one guy who can elicit just such a response from her.

  And that would be her ex, Austin.

  My gaze shifts as I casually scan the vicinity. Sure enough, Austin is standing on the other side of the room. There’s a drink in one hand and a girl under his other arm. Almost immediately my eyes fly back to Brooklyn who hasn’t moved a single muscle. Without a word between us, I quickly wrap my arm around her waist silently offering a little bit of moral support.

  But honestly… what does she expect?

  That he’s just going to keep chasing after her?

  She’s done nothing but shut down every overture he’s made since they broke up about two weeks ago.

  He’s tried calling, texting, explaining what went down the night she caught him kissing some hockey whore (her pet name for the hockey groupies on campus) but Brooklyn has refused to have anything to do with him. It was really only a matter of time before Austin decided to cut his losses and move on. But I have to wonder by the look in her wide green eyes if that’s what she really wants.

  I’m kind of guessing it might not be. That being said, I’ve also come to realize just how stubborn my roommate can be. Which is pretty damn stubborn.

  “You okay, Brook?” I ask the question gently. “Do you want to get out of here?” Because there are plenty of other parties we can crash tonight. And they’re all pretty much the same. Loud music, drinks a-plenty, and tons of costumed revelers.

  Finally ripping her eyes from Austin, she hoists a smile as if she’s not bothered in the least. And if I didn’t know her as well as I did, I’d think maybe she wasn’t. But Brooklyn and I have gotten really close in the past few months and I can tell that seeing Austin with another girl affects her in a way she doesn’t necessarily like or want.

  Smile firmly plastered across her gorgeous face, she says, “Of course not, I’m fine. There’s no reason why we should leave.”

  Giving her a beseeching look, I can’t resist asking one final time, “Are you sure?”

  Her smile turns brittle and I suddenly have a sinking feeling about tonight. Pussy comments notwithstanding. “Absolutely.”

  Cole returns with a big red cup full of beer. As he hands Brooklyn the drink, she immediately tosses it back gulping down at least half of its contents in ten seconds flat.

  And so it begins…

  With wide eyes, I meet Cole’s confused gaze because clearly he realizes that something isn’t right. Before I can clue him in, Brooklyn drains the rest of her cup before stalking off, muttering something about finding the keg.

  And a hot guy.

  Not necessarily in that order either.

  Still looking perplexed, Cole follows Brooklyn with his eyes before quirking a brow at me. “Do I even want to know what that was about?”

  “Probably not.” Then I add, “Austin’s here. And he isn’t alone.”

  This explanation only seems to confuse Cole more. And I can’t really say that I blame him for it because Cole was the one who had to finally sit Austin down and tell him to back the hell off. I think the words restraining order were actually used during that conversation. Multiple times.

  So… yeah.

  “I thought that’s what she wanted.”

  Rather speculatively, I stare after Brooklyn’s retreating form. And I’m not the only one either. At least four pair of eyes, including Austin’s, follow her black swishing tail as she leaves the room. “I’m not sure if Brooklyn knows what she wants.” Or maybe she just wishes she didn’t want the person she actually wants.

  Cole slips his hand into mine and I smile as he gives it a little squeeze before leaning down to press a quick kiss against my lips. But it’s not enough. Not nearly enough and so I grab the neck of his hockey jersey, pulling him down for another. This one is a little more lingering. And I’m certainly not into PDA but most of the time, I just can’t get enough of him. That’s when someone clears their throat rather noisily. Breaking apart, we both turn to find Austin. One of his eyebrows is cocked as he stares at us with a fair amount of disgust.

  “Can’t the two of you keep your hands off each other for five freaking minutes?”

  One side of Cole’s mouth bows up as he wraps his arm around my shoulder, tugging me closer. Smirking, he replies, “Nope.”

  Even though I shouldn’t ask, I can’t help myself. I nod towards the girl he’d just had his arm around. “Who’s that?”

  There isn’t a whole lot of interest in his eyes as they flick towards the girl in question. Noticing us, she smiles brightly before giving him a little wave. Austin lifts his chin in acknowledgement.

  “Just a girl I know.”

  I make a noncommittal noise but don’t say another word. His eyes shift from the tall blonde that had just been clinging to him to where Brooklyn is just barely visible in the other room. That’s when it occurs to me that Just-A-Girl-I-Know bears a striking resemblance to Brooklyn.

  Which is kind of interesting… in a creepy sort of way...

  Austin’s face darkens. “I’ve gotta get back to Eva.” Without another word to us he heads back to his Brooklyn look-alike. My eyes slide to Cole before giving him a little shrug. It’s completely obvious that neither one of them are over the other.

  Cole’s mouth brushes slowly over mine before he whispers, “I think my lips were right about here when we were so rudely interrupted.”

  Even though we’re in the middle of a huge party, my belly dips as his eyes darken. That one look has the thick crowd slowly receding into the background. I can’t bring myself to care one bit about the crush of people surrounding us and I love that he’s capable of making me feel that way.

  Have I mentioned just how sexy Cole is in his hockey jersey?

  Yeah… seriously hot.

  His lips lower until I can feel the heat of them but he doesn’t quite touch me before murmuring, “So, is there any chance of getting a physical later on, doc?”

  The corners of my lips hitch. “Yep, and it’s going to be incredibly thorough.”

  “Hmmm. I like the sound of that. Maybe we should get out of here now. What do you think?”

  Leaning closer, I finally capture his lips with my own before saying, “Let’s dance for a little bit and then we can slip away.”

  “It’s a date.” He winks before grabbing my hand and then we’re winding our way through the thick gyrating crowd to the living room where people are dancing to the loud pulsing music. A strobe light flickers, illuminating all the costumed revelers. It takes only a moment before we lose ourselves in the pounding beat of the music. Brooklyn and one of Cole’s teammates, Alex, join us. Rather comically, Alex is wearing a huge condom costume.

  It’s extremely fitting. The guy is all about hooking up.

  His face sticking out of all that made-for-her-pleasure latex is hilarious.

  And watching him as he tries to put the moves on Brooklyn is even funnier because she’s not having any of it. She shuts him down at every turn. Even though my relationship with Alex started out kind of rocky, we’re finally friends. Okay maybe the term friends is pushing it a bit. Acquaintances probably sums up our relationship fairly nicely. Cole was right when he said that Alex was harmless. He is. He’s huge and goofy and fairly affable. Although I have to hand it to him, for someone so enormous, he’s rather amazingly smooth on his feet.

  After about forty minutes on the dance floor, I’ve worked myself up into a sweaty mess- I think we all have. Brooklyn yells over the music, “Let’s find the bathroom!”

  Before I can even nod my head in agreement, she’s already dragging me away from Cole towards the hallway. I do some pointing and gesturing. Cole must be a ringer when it comes to charades because he nods hi
s head in understanding as I turn to follow Brooklyn. We have to weave our way through all the zombies, ghosts, and sexy devils.

  Because the party is ridiculously crowded, we end up waiting in line for about ten minutes before we’re finally able to lock ourselves away in the bathroom.

  As Brooklyn uses the toilet first, I turn towards the mirror to assess the damage. And just like I expected- it’s bad. My face is all red and sweaty from dancing. Jeez. I look like I’ve just run a marathon. I’m glad that I decided to wear scrubs and not something heavier. Even though it’s the end of October and there’s a definite chill in the air, it’s hot as hell in here with this insane crush of people.

  After Brooklyn finishes, we quickly change places. She checks herself out in the rectangular mirror hanging over the sink. Unlike me, she’s not all sweaty or red faced. I narrow my eyes because her sweat actually makes her look like she’s shimmering. Or glistening.

  Bitch.

  “So,” I clear my throat, “Austin…”

  Her face tightens. “What about him?”

  “Does it bother you that he’s here with someone else?” I would actually be shocked if she admitted that it did.

  Brooklyn doesn’t miss a beat before answering. “Nope. Not at all.”

  Slowly she slicks a bright red tube of lipstick over her lips. Now where she pulled that from is a total mystery because that bodysuit is curve hugging tight. “I told you before, we’re through. He can see whatever slutbag he wants.”

  Even though I don’t usually smirk on principle alone, I can’t resist. “I think the only slutbag he wants to see doesn’t want anything to do with him.”

  She snorts before sliding the tube back into a well concealed pocket at her hip. And damn if it doesn’t totally disappear. Yep… total bitch alright.