Shooting a look to Xinyi, who gave me a subtle thumbs up, I sighed. “Fine. Just to the checkout.”
Tate followed behind Xinyi and me all the way to the checkout. A few people stopped to stare or greet Tate by name. Obviously, plenty of people knew him.
This could be useful to my mission. Maybe he knew where the rebels were meeting? Though I couldn’t just outright ask him. I’d have to make friends with him first. Gain his trust.
The very idea of spending time with the touchy werewolf made something inside of me warm. No, it was a bad idea. I didn’t have time for distractions. Friends, yes, but the way he kept staring at me…
I snuck a look over my shoulder finding him blatantly checking me out. There was no way he had friendship on his mind.
We reached the cashier, and Tate dutifully placed my books on the counter. I told her my student ID so it would be charged to my account and turned to the lingering wolf while she bagged up my books.
“Uh, so thanks for carrying them. I think I’ve got it from here.”
Tate leaned against the counter, peering down at me with that flirty grin. “I’m more than happy to carry anything you need, princess.”
Xinyi watched from the side like we were her favorite drama on T.V.
I ignored his implications and took my bags, awkwardly shrugging a shoulder. “Guess I’ll see you around.” Then I turned to Xinyi. “See you in class?”
“Definitely,” she said, almost in awe.
Before Tate or Xinyi could find a reason for me to stay, I practically ran out of the bookstore. My face heated as I recalled the entire interaction. Geez, I’d been such an awkward spaz.Sure, I was homeschooled, and most of my friends were hunters, but it wasn’t like I didn’t know how to interact with people on a normal basis.
It was probably because the people I did interact with knew I was a Durand, so they treated me with a kind of deference. I’d never quite be one of them, and yet they couldn’t ignore me. It was probably why it took so long for me to lose my virginity and, of course, to the most inappropriate person ever.
But there weren’t any others trying to date me, not with the lingering threat of my seven overprotective dads.
As I made my way to my dorm room, I realized this was the first time in my life someone flirted with me because of me and not because of my family. It was a strange revelation, and I couldn’t decide if I hated it or if the warmth in my chest was begging for more.
Pushing smiling werewolves from my mind, I dropped my books off at my room. It wasn’t a huge room, not that I’d expected it to be. My roommate wasn’t there yet, so I had a moment to myself.
There were two twin beds on either side of the room with matching desks lined up next to each other. The desks acted as a divider for each side of the room. We each got our own dresser and closet, not that I needed it.
I hadn’t packed much. Most of my outfits consisted of the same thing. Hunting didn’t require a variety of clothing. As I made my way down to my bike for my bag, I realized I might need to add to my wardrobe.
This was college, and I’d likely have to mingle with the other students. From what I’d noticed from the hunters, that usually meant parties and drinking. Two things I tended to shy away from.
Not that I was being antisocial. More because, when I was there, it seemed as if everyone had to be on their best behavior.Like I’d tattle on them to my godparents. It was just best all-around if I wasn’t there to kill the vibe.
Thankfully, I didn’t come across any more issues with werewolves while grabbing my bag and then returning to my room. My roommate still hadn't come back, so I decided to shoot a quick message to my mom before taking a shower.
Me: what do you wear to a party?
Mom: did you get invited to a party already?? ?? I knew you’d make friends.
I rolled my eyes.
Me: clothes? Ideas?
Mom: depends on the party. Is it outdoors? A kegger? In the dorm room? The options are endless.
I sighed heavily. This was becoming more complicated than it needed to be.
Me: nvm I’ll just wear what I have.
Mom: No you won’t! Don’t worry, I’ve got this. I’ll send you some options.
I didn’t respond, worried what my mom considered options.
