ZACH
Class finally ends, and thank God, because I was two seconds away from clawing my own eyes out.
I'm not even supposed to be here — Theater History isn't exactly on my course load — but sitting through ninety minutes of the driest lecture known to mankind might be a new personal record for torture. And that's saying something,considering I once had to sit through a mandatory NCAA compliance seminar on tax filing.
But somehow, I didn't even think about nodding off.
Couldn't.
Because Caroline was right there.
Every time she leaned over her notebook to scribble something down, my eyes followed. Every time she tucked her hair behind her ear, I caught myself staring like a creep.
God, it was like high school all over again. Me, sitting next to her in every class, passing notes, getting kicked under the desk because I was making her laugh too hard.
Only now it hits different. Stronger. Like I've been starving for this for three years and just remembered what it feels like.
The second the professor dismissed us, I was on my feet, falling into step with her before she could escape.
"Alright, hear me out," I say, jogging a half-step to keep pace as we head toward the door. "Dining hall. Lunch. My treat."
"Zach—" she starts, already giving me that tone, the one that meansno way in hell.
I press a hand to my chest like I'm swearing on the Bible. "Thirty minutes max. Promise. I'll even set a timer on my phone."
Caroline glances over her shoulder at Lucy, who's trailing behind us, clearly trying not to eavesdrop and failing spectacularly.
"I can't just ditch my friend, Zach," she says. "And don't you have a class in, like, forty minutes?"
"Lucy can come too," I say without missing a beat.
I flash her the signature Westbrook smile — the one that's gotten me out of trouble with professors and into pretty much every girl's good side.
"Right, Lu? You'll eat with us."
Lucy blinks like she's been caught in a spotlight. Then, just like I knew she would, she nods quickly, cheeks pink. "Uh—yeah. Sure."
I gesture between them, triumphant. "See? Lucy's in. So that's two yeses — which means you're outnumbered."
Caroline folds her arms, skeptical but not completely unmoved. Her lips twitch like she's trying not to smile, which is as good as a victory lap in my book.
"Come on, sugarplum," I coax, waggling my brows for good measure. "It's just lunch. You sit, you eat, you make fun of me for ordering three entrees — which, let's be real, is inevitable — and then you can go back to ignoring me for the rest of the day. Everybody wins."
Lucy actually laughs, covering her mouth, and I catch Caroline fighting her own grin before she schools her face back to neutral.
Caroline opens her mouth — and I swear she'sthis closeto saying yes — when some guy appears on her other side out of nowhere, sliding into step like he's been there the whole damn time.
"Hey, Care," he says, flashing her this easy, soft smile that makes my stomach twist.
Before I can even process what's happening, he's got an arm hooked casually over her shoulders like he owns the right.
What. The. Actual. Hell.
Naturally, I wait for her to shove it off. Roll her eyes. Dosomething.
Except... she doesn't.
Instead, shebeamsat him.
