I jerk back. “How would you know? Have you seen us together on campus? Were you eavesdropping?”
He shrugs one shoulder. “You guys are loud talkers.”
“Yeah.” I huff. “That’s how people who have a real connection with each other behave. We’re so delighted with each other’scompany that we tune everything else out. I don’t think someone like you could understand that.”
His eyes grow bright, and that cruel smirk makes its appearance again. “You’re raising your voice right now. Does that mean you’re enjoying my company?”
“Yes, actually,” I say immediately. I can’t lie.
It’s fun to spar with him.
He jerks back, incredulity spreading over his face. He was clearly expecting a different answer than that. He’s quiet for a moment, and I wish I could pull his head apart to read his thoughts.
“I’m surprised,” I say. “I always thought you were boring.”
Heat creeps into my cheeks at my impulsivity. I really don’t want to hurt his feelings, mean as he is. On the other hand, it’s probably not possible to hurt them. Why would he care if the shy little nerd finds him boring when everyone else on campus thinks he’s a god?
When I look up at his face, his nostrils are flared. Maybe I did hit a nerve.
“You don’t fucking know me at all,” he says. “We never talk.”
“We used to talk,” I say in a small voice.
A bitter memory flashes in my mind. I told him so much. I trusted him. His connection with Harper made him an automatic friend, even though I had disliked him at first and thought he was a bully.
And that day in the library not long ago… I told him so much, and I knew better then. How when I write, I’m more myself than ever. My heart rate slows, and the world around me fades away. How I can’t stand the way that people trash fan fiction, like it’s a lesser art just because it pulls from source material.
Tristan leans forward, his blue eyes boring into mine. “I’m sorry about…” He swallows. “I’m sorry about everything that happened. In high school. And that day…”
In the quad that day, he means. I can’t trust him. This is part of his charm. He’s trying to lull me into complacence.
It’s always a game with him.
“It’s okay,” I say, trying to lull him right back. If he thinks I accept his apology, he might begin to trust me.
He smiles, brightening his entire face. “I’ve never had more fun talking to anyone in my life. I could talk to you forever, Amelia.”
Something warm and soft fills my whole body. I don’t think anyone has ever said anything like that to me, not even Cody, and it feels like the first trickle of rain on a breezy fall day.
He’s saying this to fuck with me.
Or to make Harper jealous.
Don’t fall for it, Amy. You know better.
A moment later, the director tells us our date is over, and Tristan shifts back to his aloof, smirking self, but I’m still thinking about what he said hours later in my dorm room bed. The warm buzz from his words hasn’t dissipated.
Fuck. This isn’t good.
If I’m going to get revenge, I need to stop being such a sap.
CHAPTER 6
Amy
There’s a tangled ball of yarn in the pit of my stomach.
“I could talk to you forever, Amelia.”
