“It was an accident, I swear.” Ethan raises his hands in surrender, grinning from ear to ear.
I laugh, remembering how mortified he’d been. “He felt so bad he offered to buy me a replacement copy and dinner to make up for it, so I let it slide.”
“Well, I, for one, think it was fate,” Ethan says, lifting my hand to his lips and brushing a soft kiss over my knuckles.
My insides melt as I stare into his big brown eyes. He’s so smart and driven and handsome. And I can’t help but marvel at the fact he wants me. He choseme.
I lean closer, my gaze dropping to his mouth, forgetting for a moment it’s not just the two of us in the car until the sudden blare of the car horn nearly startles me out of my skin. With a gasp, I press the hand Ethan just kissed to my chest, my heart pounding like it’s trying to break free of my ribcage.
“Did you see that?” Brandon waves a hand in front of him. “That guy just cut me off.”
“The one ten yards in front of you?” Ethan asks, his tone dry.
“Pshh. Right?” Brandon shakes his head. “Dude’s fucking flying.”
“He’s going like twenty miles an hour,” Ethan mutters under his breath, loud enough for me to hear.
I shoot him a warning look, silently pleading with him to play nice. Brandon’s driving is usually great. He’s probably just tense because he wants to make a good impression. After all, he knows how much Ethan means to me; how much I want this to work.
He answers my plea with a smile, then asks, “So, Brandon, what do you think of Tatum’s plans to transfer?”
“You mean, hertentativeplans,” Brandon says, his voice firm, and I inwardly groan because this isn’t the icebreaker I was hoping for.
“Seemed pretty solid to me last we spoke,” Ethan says, glancing down at me with a question in his eyes.
“It is,” I reassure him, shifting in my seat because I know if I look, Brandon will be staring at me. “You and I have spoken about it more this week.”
I flick my gaze to the rearview mirror, gauging Brandon’s reaction to the news. His throat bobs while his blue gaze shifts back to the road. “So, it’s definite then?” he asks, his tone gruff. “You’re really doing this?”
I bite my lip, the weight of his question settling heavy inside my chest. “I mean, it’s not official or anything, but . . .” I hesitate, feeling the weight of his gaze. “Yeah.”
“Well, there’s plenty of time to change your mind.”
Ethan stiffens beside me.
“Brandon,” I warn, turning to Ethan with a placating smile. “He’s still adjusting to the idea,” I tell him, though I wonder if he’ll ever understand. Not that I can blame him. If I returned to school to find out not only was Brandon serious about a girl, but he also planned on leaving to be with her, I’d probably freak out, too.
I slide a hand to my stomach where an ache blooms as Brandon pulls into the parking lot of Oakridge Hall. “Thanks for driving us,” I say when he turns the car off and hands me back my keys.
“Even though it was entirely unnecessary,” Ethan adds under his breath.
“Sure thing.” Brandon steps out of the car first, rounding it quickly and opening my door.
I mumble a quick, “thanks,” as I slide out, relieved to find Ethan too busy gathering his overnight bag from the back seat to notice.
Brandon closes the door softly behind me just as Chris pulls up behind him in his Bronco. I bite my lip, hating how awkward this feels. “Um, I guess I’ll see you later. Night.”
Brandon shoves his hands in his pockets, watching as I skirt the back of the car and join Ethan. “Yeah. Good night,” he says softly.
“Ready?” Ethan asks.
When I nod, he takes my hand and we turn for the dorms, my thoughts churning alongside my stomach. We’re mostly quiet as we head inside and toward my room.
My nerves buzz from the tense car ride, and I can’t help but blurt, “Well, that was . . . not great.”
Ethan chuckles, the sound a low rumble as we bypass the common room, which is thankfully devoid of my suitemates, before entering my bedroom, where he tosses his bag on my desk chair. “It was interesting, that’s for sure,” he says, like it’s all just some amusing experiment.
I cross my arms, leaning back against the door. “Interesting? Ethan, it was awful. You guys will never get along if it keeps going like that. I just—” My throat tightens. “I need you to be friends.”
