Confused and thrown off-balance, I just nodded and mumbled a vague, “yeah, you too,” that made not a lot of sense before following after Connor.
“Um…” I said when we were out of earshot of Lacey. “Who was that?”
Connor threw me a scathing look, like I was an idiot. “Lacey. She introduced herself. I heard it.”
Ass. “Andwhois Lacey, Connie?”
He flinched and stopped walking. “Don’t call me that.” Then started again, striding across campus like he was being chased. “Lacey is my girlfriend.”
Well,fuck. I hadn’t seen that one coming, even with the way she greeted his tonsils just moments ago. I thought maybe she was a fuck buddy or…something. But…
“You have a girlfriend?” I squeaked in horror. Oh man, I needed to get the hero-worship thing under control. Immediately.
Connor released a frustrated sound. “Yes. You just met her. Lacey. Oh look, here’s your makeup class, and there’s Haze waiting for you. Catch you later, brat.”
With that, he gave me a push in Haze’s direction and legged it away like his ass was on fire. Apparently hereallydidn’t want to chat about his girlfriend, but I felt like maybe Haze could tell me more. Then again, of all the guys, he wasn’texactly the chattiest. Where the fuck was Brodie when I needed him?
“Everything okay?” Haze asked, scowling after Connor, then holding out his hand. “How’s your wound?”
Not even thinking about my actions, I placed my bandaged hand in his. “I ran out of time to change the dressing, but it doesn’t hurt today.”
He froze, and I realized what I’d just done. With a sharp inhale, I tried to snatch my hand back, but his fingers wrapped around my wrist, holding me tight as he swallowed.
“It should be all right for now,” he murmured with a husky voice. “But we need to change it tonight, okay?”
I nodded, speechless. Haze frowned at my hand a moment longer, like he was confused about why the fuck he was touching me, then ever so slowly released my wrist.
“Um, are you taking this extra class with me today or just happened to be in the area?” Because last I checked, he wasn’t in this class. None of the guys were.
Haze just nodded, falling into step with me as I headed toward the classroom. “Yes.”
That wasn’t an answer, but I sensed that was all I’d get. With a sigh, I let it go and found a seat in the middle of the room. Haze slid into the seat beside me but made no move to pull out any notes or his laptop.
There was still a solid ten minutes until the class started, and we were the only ones seated, so I figured it was a good time to chat a little. “Haze, can I ask you something?”
“Depends,” he replied, slouching out in his seat like only huge dudes could do.
I rolled my eyes. “Okay. What’s the deal with Connor and Lacey?”
His eyes widened in surprise. “He told you about Lacey? How’d that come up?”
“No…I just met her. Like five minutes ago when she had her tongue halfway down Connor’s throat. He said she’s his girlfriend?” I sounded jealous even when really trying not to.
Haze nodded slowly. “She is…but I didn’t think she was getting back to Meadowridge until next semester. I wonder what happened.”
I chewed my lip, marinating on that information for a moment. “So…you do know her? And she really is Connor’s girlfriend?”
“You sound annoyed. Why is that?”
Fuck. I did. Why was that? Because he saved my life, then showed me the tiniest scrap of compassion, which was more than likely just stemmed from pity about how fucking damaged I was?
I wet my lips and shook my head. “No, I’m not. Just confused. None of you have ever mentioned her before and I think that’s strange. That’s all.”
Haze observed me for far longer than was comfortable, and I wasn’t sure I should be revealing all my fucked-up, broken pieces to him. “She’s Connor’s girlfriend to talk about,” he finally said, shrugging as if it made perfect sense.
But like… “She knew all about me and yet I had no idea she even existed. Come on, H. That doesn’t feel weird to you? What game is Connor Sullivan fucking playing?”
Haze was saved having to answer by the professor rushing into the room, a sheaf of papers under her arm as she dumped her bag on the desk. There weren’t many of us in class again, but she wasn’t fazed, dropping what had to be our last week’s assignments in the collection folder.
