Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 105815 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105815 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
I’m still standing in the parking lot, watching her taillights disappear five minutes later.
I had her in my arms.
She’s too much. Too soon.
She isn’t over him. She still thinks about him.
20
I saunter up and plop my books down. It’s Wednesday, our third session in the library.
From the disarray on the table and the harried look on his face, he’s been here a while. My gaze sweeps over him, taking in his tall fame, the long legs stretched out under the table, the distressed black hoodie over his shirt. His hair is messy, eyes glinting with sparks.
Last night after pizza was kind of a mess. We both showed up at the library and barely talked to each other except to discuss the book.
Our chemistry sizzles, enough to singe my hair, and I like him, the person he is. It’s more than just how he looks. Yes, we can all agree he is the hottest man on campus, but I’m more entranced by his soul, by his strength and perseverance in dealing with his learning issues. His armor is falling away piece by piece in front of me, and I… I want to see all of him.
But…
He’s got a titanium shield up.
I stare at his Chucks, worn but loved, and wish for mine. I flash my pink stilettos.
“Don’t fall in those,” he quips.
“Too much?” I peer down at my magenta velvet mini skirt and fuzzy pink cropped sweater. “On Wednesdays we wear pink,” I say.
“Mean Girls quote.”
“I’m so fetch.”
“Stop trying to make fetch happen. It’s not going to happen.”
“You blow my mind.” I laugh.
He nods as his gaze lingers on my legs. “You’re in full makeup, your hair is down, you have contacts in, and your lipstick—”
“Watch it. Control yourself.”
“I have massive self-control when it comes to you.”
“Knew it! How much time did you spend not looking at me? Hmmm?” I’m half-teasing, but serious. “Or maybe you’re holding yourself back from throttling me?”
“All the time.”
“What happened to getting a private study room for us?” I thought it would help his ADHD, and we discussed it, again, after class today. He said he’d call the library and reserve one. Yet here we are in the open.
“They’re all booked. Exam time. We have to hang out with everyone else. Let’s get started, woman.” He kicks out the chair next to him, and I take it gingerly as I laugh under my breath. I love how we mess with each other.
He glances up. “I don’t see Kian here. This makes three times he’s a no-show. Lila’s intel must be wrong.”
“You checked?”
“Did recon when I walked in. I feel bad about the ski trip. I’m getting your help, and you probably won’t get mine—”
“Whoa. No. Me helping you? I would have done that anyway—because I like you. I said no at first, but that was because I was still with Donovan and it felt wrong. And you helping your sister is important. Plus, your mom needs you. I totally get it.”
“Right.” He sighs.
I smile to lighten the mood. “So, intel and recon—like it. We should come up with a code. ‘Alpha alert’ for when you see Kian, then I’ll say ‘locked and loaded’ when I make my move, then you can tell me how I’m doing, maybe ‘retreat’—obvious meaning there—or ‘advance’?”
His lips twitch. “You. Are. Strange.”
“Roger that.”
The library is packed with students studying for finals, the low hum of voices in the air. We get a few surprised looks—What are they doing together?—like we did on Monday and Tuesday, and sure enough, within ten minutes, a few sorority girls amble over to chat with River. I don’t know their names, only that they aren’t Deltas. Oh, River, how are you, you are so amazing, oh I am so sorry about your season, oh I love your IG, your party last weekend was off the chain and where did you disappear to—blah, blah, blah.
He replies politely, not being flirty…
I accidentally-on-purpose kick him with my heel.
He pivots his body toward mine, our eyes clinging as he leans in and whispers, “You want my full attention?”
“If you’re not serious about this, pack up and go,” I say. I’m insanely jealous. For no reason. He’s only being nice and speaking in short sentences, but they are determined.
“I don’t want them here,” he whispers as he grazes his finger over my throat, oh so briefly, then lets his hand drop.
Unbidden, heat washes over me, at the image of me under him, and I lean into him until our noses are inches apart. I’m getting braver, testing his walls. “If you were mine, I’d kick those girls’ asses all the way out the library door. If you were mine, it’d be so damn hot you’d never want another girl. But…you’re not, and this is my own time, and I expect you to be free of entanglements.”