I’d leave the classroom with shaky legs and damp panties, barely able to keep my breathing under control, barely able to keep myself from running to him, tackling him to the classroom floor, and mounting him right then and there.
He can never fix your heartache, but there are other aches he can fix . . . my traitorous body would purr to me.
But I knew I was lying to myself. Hadn’t I already learned the hard way? I couldn’t just have sex with Owen. I wished I were like Aurora and could fool around without my heart getting involved, but I couldn’t.
I couldn’t untangle my yearslong crush from the feel of his lips moving over my skin, from the expert press of his fingers on all my secret places. I couldn’t untangle his warm, happy laughter from his moans, or the way he’d praised my writing from the way he’d rhapsodized about my pussy. They were all one and the same to me.
If I decided to scratch that itch, I’d only be condemning myself to more pain in the end.
So it was good that he kept his distance. It was what I’d wanted, after all—for him to leave me alone. But it felt like another goodbye too. A final one. Like he was agreeing I had no place in his world or in his heart.
Like he was agreeing it had been a mistake, after all.
Chapter 23
Tanith
It was predictably cold and gloomy on Valentine’s Day, and it matched my mood perfectly. I’d never cared I was alone on Valentine’s Day before, but I had always indulged myself with romantic fantasies of Owen coming to find me, confessing his love for me, and kissing me senseless. Now all those fantasies were utterly poisoned. I knew the brutal blueblood behind all that floppy hair and irresistible accent. I knew he would never confess his love to me—and certainly not romantically—moreover, he would never kiss me like how I’d used to imagine it, with his hands stroking my face and his expression full of tenderness.
No, Owen kissed like he fucked. Dirty. Less Pride and Prejudice and more Pornhub Premium.
I knew I had a deep sickness because even now as I arrived at the Brooklyn event space—an old renovated factory we were using for Gotham Girl’s party and the “Speak” launch—the thought sent a bolt of heat shooting between my legs.
Fuck. Would I ever be rid of wanting him?
“Tanith!” Elizabeth’s executive assistant Skyler called, rushing over. He already had hectic blotches of pink in his cheeks and a look of panic in his eyes. “Thank God you’re here. There’s so much to do, and Elizabeth is getting here in two hours. If she sees the space like this”—he waved at the room, which currently was a debris field of stacked chairs, lost-looking catering staff, and a guy sitting on a speaker while looking at his phone—“she will murder us. Like Morelli-style whacking. Sleeping with the fishes. Taking a dirt nap upstate. Pushing up—”
“Got it, Skyler,” I said, shucking off my coat and draping it over a nearby folding table. “Put me to work.”
* * *
By the time Elizabeth arrived, the venue had been transformed. The brick walls were hung with large prints of vintage “Speak” photographs; a plexiglass wall had been erected with plenty of colorful markers nearby so guests could draw pictures and write messages; and lights had been strung everywhere, giving the space a cozy, yet industrial feel. The DJ was standing by, the catering staff had trays of playfully deconstructed finger foods ready to go, and a bar was all stocked with a menu of adorable mocktails for our guests.
Of course, being Elizabeth, she merely nodded at Skyler, me, and the others, and then walked off to find her seat. But a nod from Elizabeth was like a Nobel Prize from anyone else, so we all heaved a sigh of relief and then went to our various event posts. There would be a mingling hour of music and snacks, then the “Speak” contest winners would read their entries aloud, and finally, there would be dancing until eleven, when the event would end, and we would send our guests home. I was responsible for keeping the DJ and emcee on schedule and livestreaming the contest winners, but after that, I’d be free to hide until it was time for cleanup, which I planned on doing. There was something about being around so many happy people when your heart was broken. . . . It was jarring, uncomfortable, like trying to move through a jostling crowd with an open wound.
Guests trickled in—mostly students my age but a few adults, too, local librarians and a few parents—and the music started. I was making sure everything was ready on my phone when two slender hands covered my eyes.
“Guess who?” a British voice chirped.
“She only knows one girl with a British accent,” someone else said.
“If you did that to me, I’d elbow you in the solar plexus,” someone else said calmly.
I spun around to see Aurora, Sera, and Sloane standing in front of me. “Guys!” I exclaimed, elated and totally confused. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, a little birdie told us—”
Sloane did elbow Aurora in the stomach then, and Sera cut in smoothly. “We knew how much work you put into this event and we wanted to see everything come to fruition. Plus, no one should be alone on Valentine’s Day, and we were all going to be alone anyway.”
“Not me,” Sloane said, but then she gave me a small, evil smile. “But it’s good to tease Lennox a little. I don’t want him getting complacent.”
“Well, whatever the reason, I’m glad you’re here,” I admitted, giving them all quick, tight hugs. “I was feeling a little sorry for myself.”
“We knew you were too proud to ask for company,” Sera said.
“Because we would be exactly the same way,” added Sloane.
“Not me!” Aurora said, and then looked around. “This looks
