I asked, slowly easing Collins down onto her feet. "You came on my face pretty hard, baby girl. Wouldn't blame you if your legs were a little shaky."

Collins looked half-mortified, half-aroused as she cleared her throat and nodded. "I can stand."

Flashing a cheeky smile, I pushed open the shower door, letting more of the steam fill the bathroom. She stepped into the tiled stall hesitantly, keeping toward the back of the shower while she stuck her foot out as if to test the temperature.

"Too hot?" I asked, raising both of my arms to hang on the top of the shower door opening.

Blinking up, Collins stilled. Her eyes drifted all the way from the tips of my fingers above my head to my toes. Every naked inch of me. I was hard again; there was no fucking denying that. And Collins seemed appreciative of it. Of all of it. Of me. Fuck, it was warm in here.

Finally, she swallowed. "No, the temperature is good," she said.

"Then scoot over so I can join you, sweetheart."

She inched toward the stream of water but still leaned back toward the wall, hesitant.

"I just don't want to get my hair wet," she explained.

"Oh," I said with a laugh before squeezing in front of her, happy to stand beneath the spray so she didn't have to. "Well, we can work with that."

Collins' expression seemed apologetic, but I couldn't care less. I was watching the shower water splash across her chest, droplets rolling to the tips of her breasts. And then I raised my gaze to her pretty face, enjoying how her eyelashes were dewy and her eyes sparkly.

"Hey." I spoke softly because she suddenly seemed sort of shy.

"Hi," she whispered. Her attention dropped for the second time down to my erection, and I swallowed hard. That gaze of hers, I could feel it. But it was difficult to tell if she was eager...or uncertain.

"Collins." The strained way I said her name got her to look up again. "Do you want to be fucked tonight?"

Her lips parted, all wet and shiny. I leaned in, kissed them gently.

"You can say no," I breathed.

"I don't want to say no," she said quickly.

"You don't?"

"No, I don't," she reassured. "I want you, Beau."

I could feel the fierceness of those words as they left her mouth, the little bit of air that it pushed against my lips.

"I want you, too," I muttered. "But this time, don't expect to be able to stand afterward."

—

I probably should have prepped Nessa on what she was walking back into, but every time I opened a text to send to her, I got stuck. Like, what the hell was I supposed to say?

Hey, Nes. A little FYI for ya...I told Collins I wanted to fuck her, fingered her in the hallway, and now we're not talking. Just a heads up. See you when you're back.

Nah, I had no idea how to explain the situation with Collins, and I wasn't exactly in the mood to deal with a bunch of questions, either. So I stayed quiet. If we could somehow manage to not all be in the same room at one time, maybe Nessa wouldn't notice.

But that pretty much went out the window the very first night back, when Nessa thought it would be fun if we had a roommate night and grabbed dinner. Caught up.

Words usually flew out of my mouth, but this time...nothing. I couldn't think of one good excuse why I shouldn't get dinner with Nessa. Maybe Collins would come up with something, some reason why she couldn't join us. I mean, she sure had been coming up with a lot of reasons to avoid me lately, so it shouldn't be too hard.

It was only a matter of days. Not an eternity or anything. Maybe a millennium, though. Sure as hell felt like it had been that long since that night when I spilled my guts to her.

And she'd done what I asked. She hadn't looked at me like that, like she wanted me.

Meaning she hadn't looked at me at all.

At all.

I was wasting away out here in a fucking tundra. Wasn't in hell anymore. Nope, definitely not. I didn't have any brimstone or hellfire to warm my toesies at night. It was fucking cold as shit in this apartment, and it was all because...I'd lost her. At least that was what it felt like. Maybe that was dramatic, but I didn't care.

Collins spent her days mostly in her room. Sometimes I heard music. Sometimes I heard nothing. Up at seven-thirty, coffee shortly after. We were back to those early days when I had her goddamn schedule memorized but didn't dare interrupt it.

Part of me wondered if I should head back to Sacramento for a few days, give her some space to figure out whatever shit she needed to figure out. But then I remembered that fucking penguin, and I quickly threw that option out the window.

Nah, I couldn't leave her. But I'd give her time, even if it was torture out here with the Antarctic climate chilling me to the bone.

"So what'd you guys do over break?"

Nessa was oddly animated as she plucked a piece of pizza out of the cardboard box. She looked between Collins and me with giddiness in her eyes, and I wondered if she was excited to tell us what she did over break.

Clearing my throat, I kept my gaze trained on my pizza as I replied. "Not much. Went back to Sacramento for a few days over Christmas. Saw my parents. They sent you and piano man a present, by the way." I peeked up, glancing at Nessa and then nodding toward the Christmas tree, which we hadn't taken down yet.

Nessa didn't even look at the gifts, even though she sat right next to them in an oversized armchair we'd stuck in the corner of the living room. She froze instead. Maybe she felt the iciness, too. "Wait, you went to Sacramento for a few days? Where were you after that?"

Ah, shit. Yeah, I probably should have texted Nessa ahead of time.

I shrugged, taking a bite of pizza. "Here."

Nessa's brows drew together, and her dark eyes quickly flicked to Collins, tucked into a corner of the couch and as far away as she could possibly get from me.

If I was in Antarctica, she was at the North Pole, and we were both fucking freezing.

It hurt, being in the same room and having her so far away. I tried not to regret the all-or-nothing rule I'd exacted, but it was tough. I'd done it to protect my bleeding heart, but it wasn't like I was ever going to be able to get over her while we lived together anyway.

"What'd you do, Collins?" Nessa asked. "Over break?"

Collins stalled by taking a sip of her water before answering.

"I worked on a few art projects."

It wasn't a lie. Most days, paintbrushes sat by the sink, either waiting to be cleaned out or drying.

"Here?" Nessa nudged gently.

Collins nodded, her eyes moving toward the window in the living room.

Nessa took the opportunity to twist toward me, mouthing words that were clear as day: what the fuck is going on?

Ever hear that expression about hell freezing over, Nessa? Apparently, it does happen.

I couldn't figure out what to say back, so I just shook my head at her.

Her eyes bulged further out of her head, irritated at my non-answer.

Later, I mouthed.

She looked flustered about that, but then Collins twisted around again, and Nessa cleared her throat quickly, smoothing her expression. "Are either of you taking any new classes this term that you're excited about?

I snorted. "No."

Business-this, economics-that. It was basic shit that I would squeak through just like every other semester.

"You, Collins?"

"Yeah," she said in a small voice, pushing around the pizza on her plate. "I have a painting class I've been looking forward to."

I thought about the palette I'd gotten her for Christmas, thought about that night in the mountains. About what I'd told her and about what she'd said in response.

You left your schedule for next semester sitting in the kitchen. I noticed you have a painting class on it. I just hope you don't need a model this semester.

If I do, I guess I'll just have to find someone with more stamina.

Collins started to turn her head in my direction—like she was having the same thoughts as me—but then it almost seemed as though she got stuck. She paused there, head halfway cocked. And after a moment, she quickly looked back down at her plate.

I hated this.

When I told her not to look at me like that, I hadn't meant that she couldn't look at me ever.

Staring at Collins, I willed her to give me...anything. A glance, a word, a sigh. Anything. But after nearly a minute of awkward silence had passed, I gave up.

Switching my attention to Nessa, I found her staring at me, and warmth flooded my cheeks. Exposed. Caught. Betrayed by my own goddamn expression, I was sure.

Her head tilted to the side, her eyes softening. Beau, she mouthed.

Yeah, I know, Nes. I have it bad, and it's clear as day.

"How was your winter break, Nessi—Nessa?"

The slight frown on lil Wednesday's face deepened. "My break was fine," she said slowly. "Grayson was over a lot, which was nice. Rory loves him, you know. My brother. So there was a lot of football in the backyard." She rolled her eyes a little bit.

"Yeah?" I nodded, grateful for a conversation that didn't involve, well, me. "And where's the football boy at now?"

"Doing the same thing as me, having dinner with his roommates. He promised he'd hang out with Julian tonight."

Nessa bit into another slice of pizza, and I didn't know what else to say. Not because I didn't care about Nessa's winter break or Julian or Grayson, but because the girl sitting on the opposite side of the room was wholly preoccupying my brain.

Dinner ended with Collins' awkward announcement that she promised she'd FaceTime her brother before bed. Nessa insisted that she didn't need to help with the dishes, assuring that the two of them could catch up more later, a smile on her face. But as soon as the door to Collins' bedroom closed, Nessa's face fell, and she jumped up from the couch.

"What the hell was that?" she whisper-screamed, gesturing wildly toward where Collins had disappeared. And then she abruptly stopped, shutting her eyes for a minute while she composed herself. "No." She held a hand out as if to steady herself. "You know what, never mind."

Without another word, Nessa crossed the room and circled her arms around my neck. A mass of long, brown hair tangled in my face, accompanied by the faint earthy and peppery scent of spices that reminded me of her house and the Bosnian dishes her dad always made.

"You looked like you needed one of these," she mumbled as I returned her hug.

Fuck, I did. Nessa wasn't a particularly warm, sentimental person. Not on the outside, anyway. On the inside, she was deeply caring, though. And she knew that I liked hugs. Physical comfort was uncomplicated and soothing. It hit different for me.

I dropped my head into her neck. "I was going to text you, but I didn't know what to say."

Nessa pulled back a little, her hands dropping to my arms. "Maybe the truth?"

I laughed, humorless. "The truth is long and painful."

Her lips twisted wryly. "Give me the SparkNotes version."

"I laid my cards on the table," I said, flopping back onto the sofa. "I'm waiting for her to pick them up."

That was about as simple as I could make it. Nessa didn't need to know the details, and I doubted that Collins would appreciate it if I told them to her. But Nessa now had to live in this tundra of an apartment, so she deserved to know something.

"Huh." Nessa absorbed that. "She clearly wants to, you know."

Hearing shit like that a few weeks ago would have made my chest tighten, but now I was so over getting my hopes up only to be let down in the end. "I—I don't know what else to do, Nessa."

"Can I talk to her?" she asked after a long beat of silence.

I sighed, gesturing to the hallway where Collins disappeared. "Be my fucking guest."

It pained me, in a way. I wanted to be the one to talk to Collins, to sort this out with her. Selfish, maybe. But true. I couldn't keep saying the same things over and over again, though. And I told myself I'd give her space.

With a determined nod, Nessa marched toward Collins' room, making my stomach lurch and my fingers clench over my kneecaps.

Christ. Well, okay. I hadn't thought she'd meant she was going to do it now.

Sinking lower into the couch cushions, I waited until Nessa had slipped into Collins' room before taking a really long, really deep breath.

****

When I finally heard the door open to Collins' bedroom, it was late. I suspected to hear footsteps walking back to Nessa's room, but instead, the pitter-patter of feet walking across to my room echoed in the hallway.

I sat up in my bed, getting ready to tell Nessa she could come in. My palms were sweaty, and my knees would have been weak if I were standing. I was eager and terrified to hear what Nessa had to say after spending a fricken decade in Collins' room. I knew there was such a thing as girl code, and maybe she wouldn't tell me a damn thing, but come on, Nessa and I were besties. That had to count for something, right?

But then I heard a different voice. A voice that definitely wasn't Nessa's.

"Beau." A pause. "Can I come in?"

Scrambling further into a sitting position, I ran my fingers through my hair, hoping to tame it into something presentable. I'd spent the last hour lying in bed, once again playing Madden like I actually cared about football. I wondered if I'd see a version of this game where Grayson showed up as a little pretend player one day.

"Yeah." The word sounded scratchy, and I cleared my throat. "Yeah, come in."

Collins shuffled into my room, tucking a curl behind her ear. She still wasn't looking at me, though, and that made me want to kick someone's ass. Where was that Denver guy when I needed him?

"Goddamnit, ba—" I bit down on my lip. "Collins, just look at me. It's been days. Please."

I watched her eyes shift, unsure. "You told me not to."

"I told you not to look at me like that. Like you want me."

Her eyes closed before she spoke again in a soft voice. "I don't know how else to look at you."

The room itself had a pulse, and it was practically audible as I absorbed what she was saying. Collins looked up, her gaze landing on my face for the first time in what felt like forever, and my breath caught in my throat.

Hey there, sweetheart.

She took another step toward me, and the beating in my ears intensified. It wasn't until that moment that I realized she was holding a book in her hands, her fingers fiddling with a few strings hanging from the middle of it.

I waited, wondering what she would do with it, if it had any significance or if it was just something she'd been reading to pass the time. My wondering didn't last long, though, because then Collins crossed the room, set the book in my lap with a shaky hand, and then returned to her spot by the door.

"The Princess Bride?" I asked, picking it up.

She shrugged. "A favorite that my mom introduced. You told me once that I shouldn't forget to dream, and well, books and movies like this one helped keep my imagination alive. But I never...." Collins glanced away briefly. "Beau, I—"

When she cut off for a second time, biting down on her lip, I frowned. My attention turned to the book, running my fingers over the aged cover. It was a little torn at the edges, fraying. The dangling strings were attached to a bookmark, and I opened the book to the saved page. The corner was dog-eared. And there were three words highlighted on the paper, scattered in the text.

I want you

I sucked in a breath, and then Collins' finally finished her sentence.

"Beau, can we talk?"

The deep freeze that had settled on my heart immediately began to thaw.

✨

and that's what we call being on the same page

i replied to a few comments that we'd get to see more of Collins' perspective this chapter, but it got pushed into the next one. just fyi!

ya'll are my favorite

xoxo