Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 103104 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103104 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
My chest constricts sharply—it feels like I can’t breathe.
She impatiently taps her fingers on the table, and I wait a full minute before answering her.
“Now, Tulip, does that sound like me? I’m just a muscled-up football player who might be a bit dim with too much money, an elitist attitude, and a long line of girls who can’t keep their hands off of me. I mean, can you imagine me writing love letters? I’d just text her.” I pause, taking a sip of my drink. “By the way, someone plastered my number in the girls’ bathroom this week. Knox Grayson’s real cell number. You’re welcome, is what it said. Little hearts all around it. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
“How terrible. Man, you can’t trust anyone these days. Who on earth would do that to you?”
“Ah, Tulip. Don’t pretend. I’m going to have to get you back for that.”
She blushes, not even denying it. “Did anyone call?”
“Hmmm. Twenty texts last night. A few this afternoon. Guess I’ll need a new phone.”
Her face explodes in a huge grin as she slaps her hand on the table. “I’m not sorry. Not even a little.”
“Minx.”
“Guess you aren’t too pissed at me?”
I arch a brow. I was angry when the texts first started coming in, but it only took a little inquiry in reply to one of them to figure out where it came from, and by then it was obvious who the culprit was. Shit, I can’t even be mad at her.
Her eyes flash at me, holding mine. “Back to this girl you’re waiting on—does she go to Camden?”
“Mmmm.”
She pouts. “That’s a noncommittal answer, Fort Knox. Come on, tell me. Your secrets are safe with me.”
“You can’t be trusted with a phone number!”
She laughs.
Lou places down the tab in the middle of the table, and Ava and I both dive for it at the same time. “This is mine,” I say as we both pull on it.
She tugs. “You are not paying. This was my idea!”
I give it a pull. “I totally manipulated you into eating with me. You didn’t even want to hang out with me, but I wore you down.”
“You did—asshole—but I’m paying!”
“No girl pays for me, and I have money—”
“So do I! I work!”
“I know you do! Why are we yelling?” I gasp out.
“I don’t know!” She picks up a fry and tosses it in my face, and when I bat it away, she pounces forward, takes the bill, and waves it at Lou, who’s watching us with his head cocked. “I’m paying, Lou! Don’t let this rich preppy jerk give you money, you feel me?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he rumbles then turns to go back to the front. “Don’t take the boy’s money. Let me get on that right away.”
I shrug, holding my hands up. “I give up. You win. I’ll get it next time.”
She doesn’t say anything to that, just rises and gathers her things. I follow her to the front where she pays our tab, gives Lou and the girl behind the grill a hurried hug, and joins me at the door.
We walk out into the night air. Our arms brush, and for once I don’t pull away.
“You wanna ride with me?” I hear myself offering, then regret it. Shit.
She turns to look at me, and I get tense, my palms sweating again, that anxious feeling sticking to me. I think about her sitting in my car with me, the close proximity, the way her hair smells, like vanilla, and how close her arm would be to mine—
“I better not,” she murmurs. “It would be out of your way to come back over here instead of hitting the interstate to get back to Sugarwood.”
“I don’t mind.”
Why can’t I shut up?
Shit, is this me? Shuffling my feet on the gravel, looking at a girl, and wishing…
“I’ll meet you there,” she finally says, her hands clenching the straps of her backpack.
Does it bother her to imagine being alone in a car with me?
I exhale. “Okay. See you there.”
“Try to keep up with me and Louise,” she calls as she sashays away.
“Louise?” My eyes devour her ass. Shapely. Pert. Perfect. I tear my gaze away.
“My car! Named her after Lou!” She gets in and drives away, and I pull out and follow her.
12
After parking, I turn the corner on the Vanderbilt campus, and she’s already waiting for me. Somewhere in the traffic, I lost her car, and I make a note to be sure I follow her out to wherever she’s parked.
It’s not quite dark yet, so I have a good view, and she hasn’t seen me yet. She’s sitting on the steps in front of a fountain, her head tilted down as she scrolls on her phone. As if she feels me looking, she glances up and pushes a strand of hair out of her face.