I nodded. “Thanks for the advice, but I think I can handle myself. Are you going to give us a written warning or something? I have a bus to catch.”
Craig looked taken back. He waved his light up and down in rhythm to his words. “Do not let me find you trespassing again. You’re getting off with a verbal warning this time.”
“Perfect,” I mumbled and my shoulders relaxed. Without another word, I pushed past both of them to make my way to the elevator.
“I’m serious Weston,” I heard Craig say in a hushed tone he thought I wouldn’t hear. “No more trespassing. And for god’s sake, leave the girl alone.”
Weston didn’t reply. I heard him break into a light jog to catch up to me in the elevator. The air around us felt thick when we got inside and the doors closed. I glanced over at him when I pressed the button for the lobby. His back was straight, and he held his bag in a fisted grip.
I wanted to ask him if he was okay but instead said, “So, you’re some cliche bad boy looking for his next exciting fix in the form of public sex? I thought you’d be more interesting.”
He let out a deep chuckle while shaking his head. I eyed him, impressed at his refusal to take my bait. The rest of the ride was quiet. Once the doors opened, Weston let me exit first. I lead the way into the near empty lobby. A few students sat on spaced out couches near the coffee store. The janitor nearby shot Weston and me a cold glare when we made our way across his freshly mopped floor. We both attempted to avoid the wet puddles, but it was near impossible on the way to the exit. I mumbled an apology and Weston gave the guy a nod. The janitor didn’t look forgiving.
Once we reached the glass sliding door, I thought we were about to part ways. After spending the last few minutes making out, we were about to head in opposite directions. I was going to my empty dorm for a night in, and Weston to whatever he usually did on Friday nights.
“Bad boys are high school jerks with mommy issues,” Weston spoke up, making me pause in the library entryway. The automatic door slid open and let in a gust of crisp wind. I stayed in place to glance at him.
“Is that your professional opinion?” I asked in an amused tone.
He looked me up and down. “It is. And what’s yours?”
My eyes squinted with suspicion. I opened my mouth and went for it. No holds barred because I had nothing to lose. Sparing his feelings wasn’t a priority because Weston could take it. Hell, he was asking for it. One thing I learned for sure about him tonight was that he was direct and unfiltered. People like him usually appreciated the same in return.
“I think that you’re trying desperately to be cool and likeable because you enjoy receiving even though you pretend to be a giver. Like you said, everything is an exchange. Does it ever get tedious? Doing something and waiting for payment?”
Weston studied my face. “Interesting.”
I watched him shove his hands in his pants. The corners of his lips twitched, readying for a smile or frown - I couldn’t be sure. The automatic door continued to open and close whenever either of us moved slightly. I watched Weston, waiting for him to respond.
“You know what?” He finally voiced. “You got more in you than I originally thought.”
My forehead creased. “What does that mean?”
“It means I think you and me might be inevitable,” he smiled and started walking out through the door.
“Excuse me?” I hurried through the door behind him.
He turned, so he was walking backward for a minute. “And I’m the one that’s going to get hurt. That’ll be a new one. I’m kind of looking forward to it.”
I held up my hands, still confused. He simply laughed and turned around, disappearing in the parking lot.
“Weirdo,” I whispered under my breath and started in the opposite direction.
Chapter 7
I wasn’tthe only person early for Design 2 on Monday. Weston, who was infamous for strolling in late, sat on the windowsill with a small sketchbook balanced on his knee. When he heard the swing of my keys as I claimed my seat in the back, he looked up.
“Morning, Cove.” Weston offered me a wide smile. He stayed perched on the windowsill but now his body turned towards me.
“Morning,” I said in a cautious tone while eyeing his relaxed position. His calmness felt infectious, and the mood made me brave enough to add, “And it’s Co-vee. Not Cove.”
“Does it bother you that much?” He raised his eyebrows, looking amused by my correction.
I tilted my head and considered it. “There’s no point in shortening an already short name.”
Weston shrugged. “I thought it was cute. But Co-vee it is.”
“Thank you.” My voice sounded loud in the empty room. I desperately wanted someone, anyone, to file through the door and interrupt our conversation. The longer we spoke, the more likely we’d start talking about what happened during our study session.
