House parties. Hot jocks. New friends. Typical college experiences, right?
Sleepless nights. Racing thoughts. Slipping grades. Drinking way too much and waking up alone in a strange bed with no memory of how I got there, then bolting before having to face whoever put my drunk ass up for the night… Slightly less typical.
Okay, I'll admit it. I'm making a mess of my freshman year, but I can fix my own mistakes. I don't need anyone swooping in to save me, especially not my overbearing, unfairly gorgeous psych professor.
So what if he manages to make tweed look sexy? So what if I get chills when he says my name? So what if he kisses me like it would kill him not to? None of that stuff matters once I finally remember his was the strange bed I woke up in the night I blacked out.
Nope. I don't need him. But that doesn't stop me from wanting him like crazy…even when crazy is exactly how I feel.