*Jane*We pull into the parking garage of Noah’s apartment building at what I don’t doubt is an illegal speed, but I don’t really care too much. He barely has a chance to unclip the seatbelt before I’ve moved across the console and crawled onto his lap. When we kiss this time, I’m the one leading it and Noah gives a surprised moan from the back of his throat, but I don’t sense any reluctance on his part. None at all.He moves to open the door, presumably to get out so we can move into the apartment, but I remove his hand from the handle and place it on my ass, which he immediately grips. My back is pressing into the steering wheel, but I barely register it, not when I can feel his dick already getting hard against my thigh. Knowing that he’s already so turned on for me only feeds into my hunger and I know that I want him now. With a bite to his bottom lip, I pull away and he moves after me only for me to stop him with a hand to his chest as I shove him back against the dr

*Jane*“I think not,” I say, folding my arms resolutely. Rachel sighs in exasperation. “Oh, come on, Jane. It’s a totally great idea,” she insists. “I’m not a lingerie kind of girl, Rach. You know that,” I remind her. “Yeah, well, it’s not exactly regular circumstances is it?” We’re lazing about in the cafeteria between classes, and my friend is staunchly trying to convince me to buy a 'welcome home' gift for Noah. But it’s not really my comfort zone, which is something Rachel knows full well. The thought of putting myself out there like that is scary. “Okay, backtrack. Why aren’t you into the idea? You have the body for it. You’ve worn sexy clothing before. What’s the big deal?” she asks, genuine curiosity in her voice. I debate on whether or not I should just verbalize my stream of consciousness to Rachel, considering I myself am not completely certain why I feel the way that I do. But I know that Rachel has never judged me and that if I really refuse to do

*Jane*I still haven’t gotten over being kicked out of Noah’s apartment. Yeah, it was a huge knock to my ego considering the amount of effort I put into trying to give him a great welcome-back gift. But more than that, I can’t handle the constant emotional minefield outbursts. I’m not cut out for handling that sort of thing over and over again. Still, I can’t stop myself from missing him. I hate that despite everything he does that pisses me off so badly, I can’t quite get to the point of not caring about him. It’s not like I can just turn off my feelings, no matter what he says or does. It’s a vulnerability that terrifies me, so much so that I ignore every single one of his attempted calls and messages. I don’t want to hear any of that because I don’t trust myself not to cave, and the hurt is still too raw for me to just give in to him again. But when I make my way to my data analytics class, who else is waiting just outside the lecture hall with an apologetic l

*Jane*I’ve never been happier that Rachel had plans I wasn’t part of because I’m not saying no to anything Noah does to me and we get the room all to ourselves. The time we spent apart since the last time we were really together, excluding the strained session we had in his shower a few days ago, seems to only have intensified the desire we have for each other. This is the Noah I know, the one whose kisses draw me in and keep me tethered to the moment just as much as they take me out of my head and send me flying. This is the touch I’m familiar with, the one that’s desperate to feel more of me. This is the greed I’m used to.Every brush of his mouth against mine sends my pulse racing. His hands find their way under my jersey—his jersey—and he pulls back enough just to look at me wearing it one last time before he rips it off of me. I’m just as eager to get his clothes off, but I want to prolong this for as long as I can. I back him up against the door, bunching m

*Jane*“So she has the audacity, as Noah’s ex, to act all friendly with you,” Rachel confirms, touching up her makeup in the mirror. I throw the last of my books into my bag, checking the time to make sure we’re not going to be too late. I’m planning to stop at the Bulldogs’ practice session for the last bit just before I head off to class. Rachel and I both crawled back into our dorm room at an ungodly hour this morning. This meant that both the boys were most likely also going to be at least slightly late for their practice. It also meant that last night was a great night for both of us. For all her talk of me having a noticeable afterglow, I didn’t miss Rachel’s own bright spark in her eyes and her wild hair when I saw her for the first time earlier. She’d merely smirked at me, a knowing look on her face. But the second we began to debrief each other and the topic of Jessica came up, all playfulness left the conversation and Rachel became both intrigued and annoyed. S