He hisses and then moans as I slide my hand down his length. “I may never wear boxers again. Fuck. I missed you.”

My insides are total mush when he voices his feelings. Even if I am touching his dick while he’s saying it.

“It’s only been a few days.”

“And your point is?” he asks, eyes closed and hips bucking into my palm.

I pause and his eyes open and lock onto mine. It’s an opening to tell him how I feel, but instead of taking it, I slide down the bed and wrap my lips around the head of his cock.

Afterward, we’re lying on the bed curled up together. Heath’s eyelids keep shutting even as he tells me he’s not tired.

“Let me get you some water and Tylenol.” I start to stand, but he captures my hand and tugs me back down.

“No. I don’t need you to do that. People are always trying to take care of me. I just want you to lay here with me.”

“You are very stubborn.”

His mouth pulls up into a smile, eyes still closed.

“You know, it’s okay to let people do nice things for you. It doesn’t mean you’re incapable. That’s how relationships work.” I bite at the corner of my lip. “Speaking of, I’ve been trying to talk to you since we got back from break, but with everything that’s happened, we haven’t had a chance. Maybe tomorrow we can hang out, just the two of us?”

His lids flutter open and those dark blue eyes focus on me. “It’s okay, Ginny, I already know. I overheard you talking to Adam.”

“You know what?”

“At your parents’ house. I was in your room that morning before we left, and I overheard you tell Adam that you… how you feel about me.”

“Oh.” Crap. Embarrassed, stilted laughter slips out and I sit up. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”

“I didn’t know what to say.” His lips turn down at the corners and then his tongue darts out to wet them. “Ginny… I like you a lot.”

All the blood drains from my face. The way he says it and his expression—it’s excruciating. Like. He didn’t tell me because he doesn’t feel the same.

I’m absolutely horrified, and fleeing is the first thing that comes to mind. Get out of here before I start crying.

“I forgot how honest you are when you’ve been drinking.” I try to laugh it off, but tears sting my eyes. I stand and look for my clothes. “I’m going. Let’s talk tomorrow when you’re sober.”