Get a hold of yourself.

I shove down the emotions and push myself off the floor. My knees are weak as I stumble to the kitchen on shaky legs. Relief washes over me as I spy the crusty spaghetti sauce on the pan he used to make us dinner. Sweet distraction. I try to focus on anything besides Austin’s lips as I scrub.

I dissect the night, studying it harder than my neuroanatomy notes, trying to think of all the things I need to remember. How he told me to open my mouth, how he tilted my head to kiss me deeper, how he arranged my body in his lap. I try to make a checklist of what to do next time.

Next time.

He’s going to be back in my house tomorrow and I’m not sure how to handle that.

I didn’t lie to Austin when he asked me why I chose him. I started with research on scoreyourscore.com. What I didn’t tell him is that he personally stars in all my X-rated fantasies. That I think he’s the sexiest man I’ve ever seen.

Who wouldn’t?

He’s six feet of chiseled, tan masculinity. He’s the poster boy for sex appeal. When I saw him in only his boxers, I about lost my mind. I knew he was in shape, but I hadn’t expected trim muscles to cover every inch of him.

I’m hoping desire is stronger than panic and the unbelievable attraction I have for him will get me out of my head. After tonight, I’m not so sure. Yeah, I want to jump Austin every second I see him, but he’s so intimidating I can’t seem to put a complete thought together. I can’t deny there’s something about him, something that makes me want to be with him. To keep him. I fall asleep wondering if I can go through with this.

Can I spend the next month getting close to Austin Jacobs?

Will I be able to walk away at the end of it?

I have no doubt he will.

* * * *

Since waking up on this uneventful Wednesday, my hours have been consumed with trying—and categorically failing—not to think about Austin. From the second I opened my eyes, I’ve had a mental clock ticking down in my head until I see him again.

Shower and finish breakfast, eight hours and six minutes until I see Austin.

Grab a coffee on my way to class, six hours and seventeen minutes until I see Austin.

I take my usual seat in the front row of the lecture hall for advanced biochem, five hours and fifty-seven minutes until I see Austin.

Get a hold of yourself!

I may be more distracted than usual, but I diligently take notes once the professor covers the new material. This class is a lot of painful memorization and excruciating hours poring over my notes before every test. I don’t do it because I love the subject. I do it because I know I’m going to need this stuff—and an A in this class—to get into med school. I won’t let daydreams of Austin distract me.