Free Give Me You by Caisey Quinn Page A

habits.
    I ask him for change for the vending machines so I can grab a soda because I need the caffeine boost. With the change comes a slip of paper I recognize as the ticket from dinner. The ticket with the waitress’s phone number on it. So he did take it then.
    I avert my eyes quickly before any emotion registers on my face.
    I’m not hurt by that. I offered to get him her number myself.
    It’s fine. I don’t care.
    Keep going, Connelly. Maybe you’ll convince yourself.
    Skylar leaves the ticket out and I know he’s testing me. Trying to determine whether or not I give a shit.
    I don’t.
    Except I kind of do. But I shouldn’t and I know I shouldn’t.
    When the tension thickens between us to a point where I can barely sit still, I stand and make my way to the reference stacks in the back of the room.
    “Corin,” he says evenly from behind me once I’ve reached a dead end between rows. “Stop, please. I want to talk. Actually talk.”
    I turn around and smirk at him. “Funny, I don’t think you’ve stopped talking since we got here.”
    He shakes his head and folds his muscular arms across his broad chest. “No. I want to cut the bullshit for one night. You’re agitated and I don’t think it’s about Calculus. Tell me what’s bothering you. Say something real, dammit.”
    “Something real, dammit,” I repeat.
    His eyes are bright, emergency flares in the darkness aimed at me with a ferocious intensity that presses me further against the wall. His arms uncross and he places his palms on the wall on both sides of my head. He’s caging me in and demanding answers I can’t give him.
    “No more games, Corin. Not tonight.”
    Realizing I’ve been holding my breath, I exhale and then inhale deeply, causing my chest to graze lightly against his. My nipples practically high-five his. God, he smells so good. I would drink whatever body wash he uses with a straw.
    Fine. He wants a real answer. I give him the best one I can manage while drowning in the warm clean scent of him.
    “What do you want me to say, Skylar? That I’m attracted to you? That I want you? That every time you open your mouth I wish it was on me? I’m not going to say any of that. Because you already fucking know it.” My teeth are clenched in frustration but voice is so breathy that it’s embarrassing.
    “That’s a start. Either you’re in to me or you aren’t, Corin. If you aren’t, say the word and I’ll leave you be. But I’m done playing this mind-fucking game with you.”
    “I’m…I’m…”
    “You’re what? A virgin? Saving yourself? What?”
    I shake my head. He wouldn’t understand. You don’t tell a guy you have a minor flirtation with that you had a miscarriage after your piece of shit boyfriend “accidentally” knocked you down a flight of stairs in your shitty apartment. Or that you ran away at fifteen to escape a mother who treated the living room like a brothel only to end up exactly like her. You sure as hell don’t tell him how the guy who knocked you up pimped you out to his friends for money or that being pregnant at eighteen made you feel like you might actually have one good thing in your life. But you lost that too so you ended up here trying desperately to create some semblance of a future for yourself. No, no way in hell.
    “I’m celibate,” is all I give him because it’s all I have to give. “For personal reasons that are none of your business.”
    He scoffs, and I’m overcome by the urge to slap his handsome face.
    “Don’t scoff at me, Skylar. I’ve had sex. I know what it’s all about. There’s nothing wrong with it. I’m just not going to do it again until I decide to.”
    His brows thread inward. “And what do you think will make you decide to? Tequila?”
    Bastard. My hands thrust out and shove against his hard chest. “Move, asshole. Better yet, go to hell.”
    “Not until you tell me why—why you’re celibate and why you look at me like you want to eat me alive only to