“You deserved it,” someone calls out, and Drew flips them off.
“This is abuse,” he continues dramatically. “Jackson, kiss my shins better.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Some boyfriend you are.” But he’s grinning as he says it, displaying that easy smile that makes my stomach do things it shouldn’t.
Kyle pushes back from the table. “I’m leaving before I witness something that’ll ruin my appetite for the rest of the day.” He pauses. “Monroe, you’re alright. Your taste in men is questionable, but you’re alright.”
I watch him leave, then turn to find Drew staring at me with an unreadable expression.
“What?”
“Nothing.” He shakes his head, that strange look replaced by his usual smirk. “Just didn’t expect you to throw me to the wolves like that.”
“Kyle’s not a wolf,” I say. “He’s more of a territorial bear with anger issues. And really good aim.”
Drew laughs, warming me from the inside out. “Fair point. Though I still can’t believe you didn’t defend my honor even a little bit.”
“Your honor?” I raise an eyebrow. “You made a joke about Alex massaging Gerard’s ass. You’re lucky the only damage you received was to your shins.”
“I’m wounded.” He clutches his chest dramatically. “My own boyfriend, abandoning me in my time of need.”
The wordboyfriendsends a jolt through me every time he says it. I know it’s part of the act, but my traitorous heart doesn’t understand that.
“You’ll survive,” I say, stealing the last piece of his bacon as compensation for my emotional turmoil.
The rest of breakfast passes in a blur of easy conversation and casual touches. Drew’s hand on my thigh. My arm around his waist as we leave. His fingers playing with the hair at the nape of my neck while we wait for our next class.
Each touch is sweet, exquisite torture that I’m growing far too addicted to.
“You’re getting good at this,”Drew comments in the afternoon. We’re in my dorm room, studying, which has become code for hiding from the latest wave of cell phones in our faces.
“At what?” I ask, glancing up from my textbook.
“The whole boyfriend thing.” He’s sprawled on my bed, one arm behind his head, appearing unfairly attractive in ripped jeans and a BSU hockey hoodie. “Very convincing.”
“You’re not so bad yourself,” I say, aiming for light and missing by a mile.
His lips curl into that familiar grin as he pushes himself upright and slides toward me until our knees almost touch. “Yeah? What’s been your favorite part?”
You, I think.All of it. Every second. The way you look at me like I matter. The way you touch me as though I’m fragile. The way you make me forget this isn’t real.
“The free coffee,” I say instead. “Definitely the perks.”
He laughs, loud and bright, and I want to bottle the sound and listen to it whenever I’m depressed. “I see how it is. Using me for my dining dollars.”
“You’ve discovered my master plan,” I deadpan.
We’re sitting close enough that I can see flecks of gold in his hazel eyes, the way his eyelashes cast shadows on his cheeks.
“Jackson?” Ryan’s voice from the doorway startles us. I didn’t even hear him come in. He’s standing there with his messenger bag, eyes darting between us with an expression I can’t quite read. “I need to grab something from my desk.”
“Yeah, of course,” I say, scooting away from Drew even though there’s no reason to. We’re supposed to be dating. Being close is normal. Expected, even.
Ryan moves to his desk, but I know he’s watching us in that quiet, observant way of his. He’s been doing that all week—catching my eye at random moments, opening his mouth to say something before changing his mind. It’s driving me crazy, but I’m also terrified of what he might say if he does speak up.
“I’ll see you at dinner,” Ryan says finally, gathering whatever he came for. He pauses at the door. “Jackson?”
