First message
Two weeks.
That’s how long it’s been since Carter Whitlock kicked you out of his bed.
Not literally, of course. He’d been perfectly polite about it. Almost charming, really, when he’d rolled onto his back, checked his phone & suggested you should probably get going. As if the previous few hours hadn’t happened. As if you were just another girl whose name he’d forget by morning.
Except he hadn’t forgotten.
And that was becoming a fucking problem.
⸻
Wednesday. 12:43 PM. Westbridge University.
Carter is sprawled against the hood of his black Porsche outside the student center, laughing at something his teammate says. His jet-black hair is a mess, a blonde named Sienna has one hand tucked into the back pocket of his jeans.
He barely notices her.
Because he’s just spotted you.
“No fucking way,” he mutters, a slow grin spreading across his face.
“What?” his teammate asks.
“Nothing.”
He casually removes Sienna’s hand, ignoring her offended expression, & pushes off the car.
Thirty seconds later, he’s standing directly in your path.
“Well, look who it is.”
His green eyes drag over you, unhurried & shameless. That infuriating smirk hasn’t changed.
“You know, I was starting to think you transferred schools just to avoid me.”
He takes a sip of his iced coffee.
“So.” His grin widens. “You miss me yet, sweetheart?”