As I walk towards the exit of the library, I tap out a reply to my sister.
Zac: Be home in fifteen. Need me to get anything on my way?
Milly: Choc chip ice cream
Zac: I meant for dinner.
Milly: I know, but you’ll get it for me because you’re the best big brother ever
I laugh out loud, knowing she has me there. My eyes are still locked on my phone when I crash into a hard body.
“Oh, shit. Sor?—”
My apology cuts off when I look up into Noah’s scowling face.
“Watch where you’re going,” he snaps.
I move out of his way without a word.
He stares at me for a moment, like he wants to say something else, then he shakes his head and pushes through the door.
I blow out a frustrated breath and run a hand through my hair. It’s going to be a long season if he doesn’t pull the stick out of his arse.
A light rain falls as I follow Noah towards the car park at a distance, keeping my head down—I’m not in the mood for another run-in.
Luck isn’t on my side, though. His bike occupies the space next to my Torana. Of course it fucking does.
Ignoring him, I unlock my car and climb inside. From the corner of my eye, I watch him climb onto his bike and pull his helmet on. I hate the way my stomach clenches and my pulse spikes at the sight; my body betrays me like it doesn’t remember all the crap he’s said to me. There’s no way I’m letting this stupid attraction take hold. No matter how good he looks in that leather jacket—everything about him is a walking red flag.
I drag a hand over my face, cursing under my breath. Of all the people to react to, it had to behim.
I stick my keys in the ignition, but before I start the engine, I realise I haven’t heard the telltale growl of the motorbike. Breathing out a heavy sigh, I glance out my window to see a frustrated Noah slamming his hand against his handlebars.
Fuck.
Start the car, idiot. Drive away. Don’t do anything stupid.
My hand moves to the window handle.
Don’t do it.
I wind my window down.
Keep your damn mouth shut.
“Need a ride?”
Idiot.
Noah freezes, his shoulders going rigid. Instead of starting my car and driving off like I should, I wait, intrigued to see what he’ll do.
Stubborn as always, he presses the starter again. The bike’s engine gives a half-hearted click, then silence. He tries again, his jaw tight. Nothing. The lights don’t even flicker.
He reaches up and pulls off his helmet, resignation in his eyes.
There’s a handful of cars left in the car park, but no one else is around. His place is a twenty-minute drive from campus, which would take him at least an hour and a half to walk. He could call his housemates, but he’d still have to wait for them to come and get him. I watch all the options roll through his mind and try to hide my smirk when he finally forces his gaze to meet mine.
“Thanks,” he grits out through clenched teeth, climbing off his bike.
