I already put my dreams and goals aside for Avery, and now there’s a chance I’m going to lose out on the opportunity again because I’m compromising my own needs to meet someone else’s. I can’t lose myself like this. Not again. Not for someone who’s already made it clear once that I wasn’t as important as his dream.

“Delilah.” My professor stops me as the class files out of the room, ready for tonight’s pub crawl. “I’d like a word with you, please.”

“Of course.” Please don’t let this be a lecture.

Students file quickly out of the room, and she taps her pen on the desk a few times. “You work at Fairview, is that correct?”

“Yes.” We filled out a survey at the beginning of the semester with basic information. I’m astounded that she can recall this.

She nods. “I went back and reviewed your transcript. You were at the top of your graduating class.”

I nod. My humiliation grows with her scrutiny. “I was.”

“I recognize that working full-time and the responsibilities you must have in addition to this course may impact your grades, but I don’t believe your midterm mark is reflective of your abilities.” Before I can speak, she holds up a hand. “In fact, I know that mark doesn’t reflect your abilities, because on the occasions you’ve contributed to class discussions you’ve been insightful and articulate.”

It’s a significant compliment, but the unspoken part, asking what the hell happened to make me bomb the midterm, dampens it. “Thank you. I promise my next assignments will be reflective of that.”

She regards me for seconds that feel like an eternity. “The next two assignments are essay based. I’m hopeful that will help bolster your mark. I’d also like to see you participate more in class discussions. Your in-field experience is valuable to the rest of the students.”

“Of course, professor.”

She smiles. “I’m sure you have things to do with the rest of your night that likely don’t include pints at the student pub.”

I return her smile, thank her for her time, and head for the parking lot. The “you can do better” speech is somehow worse than a disappointment lecture. It only serves to exacerbate the self-flagellating. I toss the papers on the passenger seat and check my phone for new messages.

There are several from Ethan, asking for an ETA. I message back that I should be there in less than an hour. It’s already eight thirty. I have to be up early for work and tomorrow night Ethan has a game, so the hours we have are limited.

I shelve the failed midterm and the assignments that need my attention. I won’t be effective tonight anyway in my current mood. Which I need to put a pin in. I don’t want to bog down tonight with negativity, especially since I’m going to have to bail on the game tomorrow night. It’s exactly what has to happen so I can bring my mark up before the final exam, which is only weeks away. He has to understand my need for balance.

My alarm wakes me at 5:43 in the morning. I’ve always been a fan of waking up at nonfive increments. Those extra two minutes sometimes mean the difference between hot coffee and no coffee.

Ethan snakes his arm around my waist and pulls me back against him before I can roll out of bed. “Why is your alarm set so early?”

“I have to take Merk for a walk.”

“I’ll walk him later. Stay for a few more minutes. I missed you.”

“You missed rubbing your morning wood on my ass.” I’m on point with the sassy quips for only having been alert for mere seconds.

He nods into my neck, lips finding my shoulder. “I did. So much. I tried snuggling with a pillow, but it wasn’t the same. Cotton is a poor substitute for your ass.” He rolls his hips, his erection sliding between my cheeks. He cups a breast, pinching my nipple between his fingers, making me arch. His low groan vibrates along my throat.

“I didn’t get enough of you last night.” He grazes the column of my throat with his teeth, and he smooths his hand down my stomach. When his fingers find my clit, I spread for him, hooking my foot over his calf to give him better access.

Shifting my hips, I press against his erection, letting his fingers and his mouth dominate sensation. He throws off the sheets and adjusts his cock, sliding it along my slit until the head passes over my clit. I watch him ease back and forth a few times and then he’s pushing in, slow at first, and then faster, harder. Holding me to him, he slips an arm under me and turns my head toward him, his gaze fixed on mine as he pumps into me, telling me I should never leave his bed, that this is what he needs, that I’m what he needs.

That I’m the reason for everything.

So after, when he tells me he’ll see me later, I don’t mention not being able to go to the game.

chapter eighteen

PAUSE

Lilah

I go to the game, even though I shouldn’t. I knew if I stayed home, I’d still have trouble focusing anyway, aware Ethan would be so disappointed. But I tell him I can’t stay afterward and that I must sleep in my own bed tonight. He doesn’t like the last part, but I placate him with promises of a sleepover tomorrow. It’s easier to stick to my plan since Jeannie and Martin came with me, and I drove.

Ethan’s moved from second to first line thanks to his outstanding performance this season. Watching him race down the rink, the puck shifting under his blade as he navigates around the opposing team with single-minded focus, is enthralling. It makes me wish I didn’t have to work in the morning and that the sleepover Ethan wants tonight was possible.