He studied my face like he was committing it to memory. “Eat breakfast,” he countered. “Even when you don’t feel like it.”
My mouth twisted. “Bossy.”
“Says you.”
For a heartbeat, we stood there facing each other. Then he pulled me into him and I found myself wrapping my arms around him as he rested his chin on my shoulder. The kiss hepressed to the top of my head said more than any sentence could.
Then he swung his leg onto the bike, and the engine rolled through my ribs like thunder. He pulled away, not fast, not slow, just…inevitable. I watched until the road took him out of sight and then a little longer, because letting go took practice and I was still learning.
By the time Dalton and I were piled into Sally and heading back to Athens, the air had cooled, and the miles stretched out black and endless ahead of us.
We’d driven maybe ten minutes before Dalton spoke, drumming his fingers against the window. “Sooo…you and Jackson—”
I gripped the wheel tighter. “Finish that sentence and I’ll toss you out right here.”
Dalton angled a look at me, smirk curling slow. “Whatever, Holly. I can get a ride. I’m hot enough to hitch one, scary enough to not get robbed on the way.”
I bit back a laugh and floored it a little harder than necessary. “You’re insufferable.”
“And yet,” he said, settling deeper into the seat, “you keep letting me in your car. Makes me wonder who’s really the crazy one here.”
I turned up the radio until it rattled the windows, pretending the heat creeping up my neck was just from the weather.
Chapter Twenty
? Holly ?
Finals week was hell.
The kind of hell where the devil wasn’t fire and brimstone but highlighters that bled through thin paper, pencils were chewed down to nubs, and professors thought “comprehensive” meant “here’s every miserable detail since the dawn of human history.”
By Thursday, my apartment looked like the aftermath of a small academic tornado—coffee mugs, flashcards, and empty take out containers scattered like land mines.
“Why did I do this to myself?” I groaned at my ceiling sometime after midnight, surrounded by flashcards like confetti after a pity party. “I could’ve just…not. I could’ve burned this place to the ground instead.”
Dalton, sprawled on my couch and half asleep, muttered something about not being equipped to put out fires. I frowned at his unhelpful ass and then got up to grab the stack of flashcards resting on his abdomen. That roused him a bit more, and he opened one bleary eye. “I really don’t know why you’re stressing so much.”
“And I don’t know why you’re still here! Go home!”
“Um, I’m sorry. Have you seen my dorm room? Smelled it? It smells like vanilla and coconuts here. And the couch is comfy.”
“Then help me study!”
“Holly, chill. You’ve got this. You’re a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for. Don’t make me tell Jackson on you.”
Heat crept up my neck, and I glared at him before snatching the pillow he was resting on. His head fell back with a thump into the couch, and he watched as I went around gathering every pillow and throw blanket. I even took my Salt & Sea candle off the mantel before marching down the hallway and into my bedroom. He sat up, grinning, and laughed out loud when I slammed my door. I spread my notecards and books on my bedroom floor, gnawing on the eraser of my pencil. I kept sneaking glances at my phone, and finally gave in.
Me: Your pet spy is really annoying
When he didn’t immediately reply, I sighed and took a picture of the chaos around me before sending it to Maria.
Me: I need pointers on pest control.
Her reply was almost instant.
Maria: What kind of pest?
Me: The 6 foot tall, blonde that has infested my couch kind.
