Completely Consumed (Addicted To You, Book Eight)
Author:Covington, Lucy

“It’s just that I really like him,” she said. “I know he’s the stereotypical college guy, which isn’t usually my type, but I just… I don’t know. There’s something about him.” She motioned me closer to her, like she wanted to tell me a secret. I leaned in and braced myself for whatever it was I was about to hear. “I usually go for guys with tattoos and piercings and bad pasts. Adam’s just so… normal, you know? And I know what you said is true – that he’s a guy, and I’m going to be careful, I am. But I’m also not going to let fear stop me. He came over again last night. This time was different. He held me all night.”


I nodded and tried to hide my surprise over the fact that they’d slept together again. “You’re right,” I told her. “You shouldn’t let fear stop you. I’m sorry if I tried to discourage you about Adam. I just want you to be happy.”


Even as I was saying the words, I was wondering if I was being a horrible friend.


Shouldn’t I just come out and tell her what Adam had said to me in the bathroom? That he’d basically told me that he still liked me, and that he’d straight out said that him sleeping with Rachel hadn’t meant anything?


But what if I was wrong? What if I’d misinterpreted what Adam had said? What if he’d just told me that it hadn’t meant anything between him and Rachel because he was afraid he’d hurt my feelings? Yeah, it was completely far-fetched. But still. It was a possibility.


And even if I had understood him right, maybe Adam had changed his mind.


Apparently him and Rachel had slept together again and this time he’d held her all night.


He wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t like her at least a little bit, right? Maybe the first night had been a weird drunken mistake, but now Adam’s feelings were changing. It could happen. Couples got together in all sorts of ways. My dad was actually dating my mom’s best friend when they first met. And they’ve been married like twenty-five years now.


“So we’re cool?” Rachel asked, her face hopeful.


I only hesitated for a second. “Yeah,” I said truthfully. “We’re cool.”




I still couldn’t shake the niggling bit of doubt that had settled in my stomach. It stayed with me all morning, and I couldn’t figure out why it was there. Was it because of what had happened this morning with Justin? Or was it because of Rachel and Adam?


I didn’t know. But the feeling of dread followed me all the way back to my dorm and stayed with me while I showered and then headed to the science building and Dr.


Klaxton’s class. I sat there, tense the whole time, wondering if something horrible was about to happen. But Dr. Klaxton’s class passed without a hitch. He didn’t even call on me.


When class was over, Rachel gave me a smile and a wave as she pushed by me and out into the hallway. “See you back at our room later,” she said cheerfully, oblivious to my inner turmoil.


“Yeah,” I said. “See ya.”


I walked down the hall, trying to shake the feeling that was still sitting in my stomach. I wondered if maybe I was beginning to develop an anxiety disorder. Maybe the way I was feeling didn’t have to do with anything specific. Maybe it was just how it was going to be now – constantly on edge, constantly wondering what was going to happen with Justin, constantly worrying about school, about Adam, about Rachel. People were always talking about how they felt like they were under so much pressure – maybe this is what they were talking about.


I pictured the feeling in my stomach as a huge anvil, pushing on my insides, trying to escape. I took some deep breaths and tried to calm myself down. There was a vending machine on the second floor of the science building and I bought a bottle of water, thinking maybe I was just dehydrated. I’d had two huge coffees that morning and I was sure they weren’t helping my mental state.


The good news was that my next class was psychology. It was a core class, one of the courses I needed to take for my pre-med track, but it was pretty much a no-brainer.


The teacher, Dr. Tropiano, was super young. Maybe like thirty at the most. She had that long, straight hair that a lot of hippies have, and she was always wrapped in scarves and sweaters no matter how hot it was out. She had pale skin, like she’d been a vegan all her life and maybe even lived inside, the sun never touching her limbs. She led us on long, rambling discussions about attachment theory and you could tell she was probably one of those therapists who made their patients role play that they were their own mothers or something equally kooky.


Needless to say, even though the class was interesting, it was kind of a joke.


I must have been totally out of it, because I was one of the last ones to arrive at class, which was weird since usually the walk took me like three minutes. I liked to sit in the middle, over to the side, but today I had to take a seat in the back because my usual seat was taken.


It seemed like a bad omen.


I took a sip of my water and pulled out my phone, then typed a quick text to Justin.




U ok? Kind of worried.