Page 3 of One Vow

She chuckled. “I know who you are. We all know who you are.”

Between the fact that the melody of her laugh had me mesmerized and that she hadn’t let go of my hand yet, I could barely draw in a useful breath. And she knew who I was. That made her even hotter. Not that I would’ve believed it possible until I saw it with my own eyes.

Suddenly, I didn’t care one damned bit about the anatomy of the musculoskeletal system. I cared about getting to know Felicity. I wanted to know what music she liked, her favorite books and classes and TV shows. I wanted to know about her family and friends. Her…everything. And it couldn’t happen fast enough.

I leaned closer and caught a whiff of her. Jasmine. Lavender. And I stuttered because every word I’d ever heard or learned to say disappeared from my mind. I didn’t have a single thought left. Nothing. And now I was the creepy guy in class who was sniffing the girl sitting next to him. I jerked straight and cleared my throat. Loudly. It was more a growl than a simple clear.

Dr. Klein looked at me. Of the 50 or so students in the class, she stared at me. Long. Hard. A glare, really. That glare would have shrunk a lesser man. But I was in my own world, ego charged because the pretty girl next to me knew who I was.

“All right, people. Everybody needs a partner because things are about to get very interesting.”

“It’s not Bio or Chem, and we aren’t doing labs in this class, so what the hell do we need a partner for?” I said softly.

Yeah. It could have easily been called grumbling maybe even whining, but only because if I chose a partner, that meant I would have to come to class every Tuesday and Thursday or it wouldn’t be fair to said partner. And no way in hell did I plan to come to class every Tuesday and Thursday.

But when I looked over at Felicity, she had the most adorable, pleading, wide-eyed puppy dog look on her face. And if those batting eyelashes weren’t meant for me, the rest of my life was meaningless.

As soon as I had the thought, I wanted to kick my own ass. I wasn’t some drama queen who needed the meaning of life. But I wanted this girl. Maybe for more than just the usual wham, bam, thank you, Finn.

I felt connected to her. Or maybe I kept my mouth shut because I was depressed and tired and horny. Plus, still hungover from the drugs. Either way, I nodded instead of explaining that the chances of me ever coming back to the live version of this class were slim.

And if my head hadn’t betrayed me, my mouth was all set to give up. “Okay.”

An answer I could only chalk up to letting my dick be in charge of my response.

“All right.” And it took a whole minute for a grin to spread across her face and for her to lean in and whisper, “I can’t wait to tell all my friends that Finn Makenzie and I are learning anatomy together.”

I chuckled at the slight high school cheerleader shoulder shrug and the wiggle to her eyebrows. There was something so adorable about her.

I’d dated plenty of girls since high school. Plenty. But I’d never been so immediately in lust and hoping for more. So ready to follow her anywhere. And I hated myself for admitting it. Really hated myself.

Dr. Klein moved to the whiteboard while her assistant handed out three-inch binders full of course material. Notes. All the information that would be on the exam, sorted and organized into categories for “purposeful studying.” With my partner and her beautiful blue eyes and smile that was brighter than the sun.

2

Felicity

Over the last decade, I hadn’t spent much time thinking about Finn Makenzie.

Shit. That was a lie.

I spent a lot of time thinking of his stony gray eyes, his bright smile, and oh, the kissing. Hundreds upon hundreds of hours thinking of kissing his soft lips. The skills he had with that magical mouth of his and the way his tongue caressed and teased. Every once in a while, I remembered his touch. The friction as his fingers slid on me, or the way we used to slide together, skin against skin. Usually, I thought of him after a couple of tequila shooters or immediately preceding a long, cold shower or two.

A lot of hours.

And that was the truth, but never once did I imagine him knocking on my door, wearing an easy half-smile and a coat not nearly warm enough for a Maine December. But there he was, standing on my porch, same cocky smirk, same honey-gold hair, same fuck-me body.

I’d opened the door because he came back. “Hi, Lis.”

I slammed it shut because it took him ten years to do it.

“Come on. Let me in, Felicity.”

Oh, did I mention the voice? That low timbre, the quiet resonance that made my heart palpitate and my panties all but catch fire? Even ten years later. Although, no way in hell was I sharing that piece of information with him.

I opened the door because I was weak, but I kept my voice strong because…pride. “What do you want, Finn?”

“We need to talk.”