I leave the lecture hall together with Aspen, just in case Taylor tries something. His behavior in class reminds me so much of Dad’s assistant, who’s only nice to people who he thinks are important and treats everyone else like shit. I don’t know who Taylor thought he was fooling by jerking Aspen around like a rag doll. It made him look like an idiot, not her.
It was offensive. And I hated the way he put his hands on her and yanked her close twice in what he must’ve believed was a dramatic gesture. I loathe the fact that he heard her gasp as he did so, felt her breath on his skin, even if the situation wasn’t sexual.
The more I think about it, the more irritated I become. The bastard obviously didn’t warn her about having to demonstrate a dance for the class. It’s clear he wanted to humiliate her.
Asshole.
Once we’re outside the building, she stops and turns. “Thank you.”
I shrug. “You were my partner for the project, so…” I can’t tell her that the way Taylor treated her pissed me off because I don’t know precisely why it bugged me so much. Normally, I try to keep drama at a distance. The only stuff I get involved in is with my brothers and my mother, but that’s expected. They’re family.
Aspen isn’t. And she isn’t even a friend. As a matter of fact, she made it clear I’m not worthy of buying her a thank-you dinner.
“Yeah, but still. You didn’t have to do that.” She looks torn as she says it, but I don’t know what could be so conflicting about thanking me.
“True.” I was going to say goodbye and go, but now I don’t want to. “Feel free to pay me back if you like.”
She regards me warily. “What do you want?”
“How about dinner?”
“Me”—she points at herself—“takingyouout?”
“Uh-huh.” She couldn’t be more surprised if I told her I was a Martian with X-ray vision.
She cocks her head. “I’m not taking you to French Laundry.”
“I guess I’ll settle for Morimoto, then,” I say with a heavy sigh, full of feigned dejection.
“What?”
I laugh. “I’m just kidding. Anywhere’s fine. You choose.”
“You don’t know what people say about me, do you?” She puts her hands on her hips.
“Probably not.” Not going to count what Heath and Will said. Or Sadie.
“I’m cheap.”There,Aspen’s voice says in a dare to not find fault in that.
“Cool. I like cheap women.”
“Hah. No, it’s going to be a cheapdinner.”
“A free dinner, for me.”
“You sure you can do without a fancy tablecloth?”
“Free dinner,” I singsong.
“They only have canned pasta.”
“Still free.”
“And I’m not paying for your drinks.”You still want me to take you out?her eyes challenge.
“I don’t drink.” Well, I don’t drink cheap or bad alcohol, but I’m not giving her an excuse to back out. She’s probably one of those scholarship kids the college takes in to be “diverse” enough. It looks bad if the entire student body consists of trust-fund babies. So the college accepts several students from average backgrounds and gives them scholarships and financial aid that are directly tied to their grades. Which would explain her desperate attempt to get me to do the paper with her.
She huffs. “Fine. I don’t know why you’re so intent on dinner, but…”
