Contents (101)
- Also by Allison Winn Scotch
- Contents
- PROLOGUE
- SIXTEEN HOURS LATER
- ONE
- Frankie
- TWO
- Ezra
- THREE
- Frankie
- FOUR
- Ezra
- FIVE
- Frankie
- SIX
- Ezra
- SEVEN
- Frankie
- EIGHT
- Ezra
- NINE
- Frankie
- TEN
- Ezra
- ELEVEN
- Frankie
- TWELVE
- Ezra
- THIRTEEN
- Frankie
- FOURTEEN
- Ezra
- FIFTEEN
- Frankie
- SIXTEEN
- Ezra
- SEVENTEEN
- Frankie
- EIGHTEEN
- Ezra
- NINETEEN
- Frankie
- TWENTY
- Ezra
- TWENTY-ONE
- Frankie
- TWENTY-TWO
- Ezra
- TWENTY-THREE
- Frankie
- TWENTY-FOUR
- Ezra
- TWENTY-FIVE
- Frankie
- TWENTY-SIX
- Ezra
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- Frankie
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- Ezra
- TWENTY-NINE
- Frankie
- THIRTY
- Ezra
- THIRTY-ONE
- Frankie
- THIRTY-TWO
- Ezra
- THIRTY-THREE
- Frankie
- THIRTY-FOUR
- Ezra
- THIRTY-FIVE
- Frankie
- THIRTY-SIX
- Ezra
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- Frankie
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- Ezra
- THIRTY-NINE
- Frankie
- FORTY
- Ezra
- FORTY-ONE
- Frankie
- FORTY-TWO
- Ezra
- FORTY-THREE
- Frankie
- FORTY-FOUR
- Ezra
- FORTY-FIVE
- Frankie
- EPILOGUE
- Ezra
- Acknowledgments
- The Rewind
- Allison Winn Scotch
- Questions for Discussion
- What’s next on your reading list?
TWO
Ezra
Ezra woke to someone screaming, so loud, too loud. Oh God. Why was it so loud?
“Stop,” he mumbled, his eyes still closed. “Stop.”
The screaming abated, and he curled into the fetal position, tugging the sheets closer. A tug back. He yanked in reply and cocooned himself further in the bed.
Then, an unwanted poking at his hip. Poke. Poke. Poke.
He groaned and exhaled, his eyes still shut.
“You,” he heard, and felt hot breath in his ear. “You!”
Now his eyes were open, and he took a sliver of a beat to process where he had unceremoniously woken.
A dorm room? His brain discarded the notion. Then revisited it.
He tilted his head up an inch from the pillow. No, this was definitely a dorm room.
His heart accelerated in a way he could feel acutely in his chest. Did he actually go home with a college student last night? He did the math: while one hundred percent disgusting, it would not be illegal. Ezra had gone to law school and knew that while there were plenty of things that were unsavory, they could not land you in prison.
He felt the finger pressing his hip again. Please don’t be eighteen. Please be clothed. Please be Mimi. Please please please be Mimi.
“You! What are you doing here?” From behind him. And then he instantly knew the voice; he’d heard it a million times back when he was young enough to live in a dorm room. In fact, when he did. When she did. Their junior and senior years. They’d lived together even if it hadn’t been official.
Oh shit. It hadn’t occurred to him to plead for a reprieve from Frankie Harriman because never in ten billion years—no, more than that—would it have occurred to him that she could be the woman next to him.
He didn’t want to turn around to face her, and yet, it appeared to be too late to slink out unnoticed, to leave a note and a promise to call. Not that Ezra had ever done such a thing even once in his life. He was a Big Brother. He spearheaded a free legal aid group in law school. He was a monogamous commitment-fiend who’d never had a one-night stand because he valued the relationship, not just the sex.
He steeled himself before he turned to face her. How he’d ended up in a twin bed in a dorm room with Frankie Harriman was truly beyond him at the moment. But turn he must.
So he did.
And she screamed again.
And he, startled at both the decibel and the proximity of her face for the first time in ten years, screamed back. Louder. Louder. Because he’d vowed the last time he’d seen her that she would never get the better of him again.
THREE
Frankie
What are you doing here?” Frankie shrieked, pushing her palms flat against Ezra’s bare chest, then pulling them back as if she incurred an electric shock. “Why are you in bed with me?”