But it’s more than all that. So much more.
I shift again in my seat, glancing at him over the screen. “What, um, sport?”
His eyes widen a fraction, like he’s not used to getting that question, and then he grins at me, for some reason finding it amusing. “Football.”
I don’t ask any more follow-ups. I fight the urge to slump in my chair and disappear under the desk because I don’t like the way he’s looking at me. I crave shadows, and his eyes cast a too-bright spotlight, analyzing me or dissecting me or I don’t even know what.
“Okay, Ivy,” he says, my name rolling effortlessly off his tongue. I don’t like it there, and a sudden image of me scrubbing it off with a bar of soap pops into my head. “Another easy one. What’s your major, and why did you choose it?”
“Graphic design.”
His brows shoot up like my answer excites him. “An artist! Well, that’s fucking cool. What made you want to study that?”
Minimal human interaction,I think, which was definitely a major factor.
Instead, I say, “I’ve always enjoyed it.” I watch advanced tutorials in my free time (of which I have a fair amount) and read design books for fun, but I don’t feel comfortable admitting that to Mr. Athletic Scholarship. Or the fact that my portfolio’s what got me into the school even with my pitiful SAT scores. “You?”
“Biomedical Engineering. I’m planning on med school.”
Med school?
Forgetting myself, I stare at Wes, waiting for the punchline. Growing restless when it never comes. He stares at me so expectantly, like he’s anticipating the inevitableyou’ve got to be kidding me, that I have to break eye-contact.
“You want to be a doctor?” I ask into my keyboard.
“That’s the plan. Pediatrician, actually. I’m great with science and data and memorization. When I was younger, I wanted to be a vet, but when my older sister had her first kid, I realized how much I liked them.”
“Wow,” I murmur, more to myself, and document his answer.
A million questions flood my mind, but none that seem appropriate to ask. Not that I’d have the couragetoask them if they were. It’s just very…unexpected.
“Now to the juicy stuff,” he says, rubbing his palms together as he reads the next question. “If you had twenty-four hours left on this earth, who would you spend them with?”
“No one,” I mutter without thinking, but as soon as I realize I said that aloud, my face turns the color of a tomato.
Wes’s eyes widen in surprise, and he leans forward in his chair. “No one? Not family? Friends, maybe? Boyfriend?”
I nearly choke at that. Instead, I shake my head.
Wes tilts his head to the side, regarding me curiously. “Well, why?”
I swallow, wishing I’d made up a lie. Any lie. “I don’t know,” I say, shrugging my shoulder. Even though I do know. If I had twenty-four hours left on this earth, I wouldn’t search out anyone. I would keep to myself and then quietly disappear. No fuss. No big deal. I would just…cease to exist.
I doubt anyone would even realize I was gone.
“Come on,” he coaxes, a smile at the corner of his mouth. “You can tell me. I’m an amazing listener, I swear. World-class secret-keeper, too.”
“P-please just forget I said that,” I mutter, tripping over my own tongue, and if possible, my cheeks turn even redder. Again, he doesn’t acknowledge the stutter.
“How about you give me an alternative answer then?” he asks. “If you had twenty-four hours left on this earth,whatwould you do with them?”
His eyes are too intent as they search mine, and it sends a shiver of apprehension down my spine. I quickly look away, hating myself for being like this. For freaking out the second I’m under any kind of male scrutiny.
For good reason.
“Mac and cheese,” I mumble, barely able to hear the sound of my own voice over my pulse pounding in my ears. “I’d eat my weight in it. White cheddar Kraft mac and cheese, specifically.” When he doesn’t say anything, I shift anxiously in my chair. “Your turn.”
“If I only had twenty-four hours left to live, I’d just want to spend time with my family, I guess,” he says, which makes me regret my answer ofmac and cheese.I mean, really. “Watch football with my parents. Play games with my sister. Hang out with my nephew. Simple stuff like that.”
