It feels like forever before we’re finally free of that place. Stepping outside brings a dramatic intake of air, the store having gotten stuffy after so long inside. Amara leads me to a nearby picnic table, dropping her textbooks with a loud thud and a curse. I rest mine down too, lowering to one side of the bench.
Somewhere nearby, I assume Lev is stalking us—not that I care.
That is, until Amara whistles. “Damn, look behind you. Don’t make it obvious, but you have an admirer. He’s glanced this way twice since we’ve sat.”
Way to go fitting in.
My finger rubs over the splintered wood table, debating whether to admit it or not. If she’s noticed him, at some point, she’ll realize he’s consistently around.
“Yeah, so that’s… He’s with me.” I automatically wince at the onslaught of questions undoubtedly about to come.
“That’sAlessio?” Her mouth drops open, finger lifting to point, but I smack it down with a firm denial.
“No, that’s one of my brother’s friends. He’s going to be hanging around for a bit. Attending classes with me and whatnot.”
Amara does a triple-take. “Um, why?”
“Because.”
“Because why…?”
“Because he is,” I offer, hoping she lets the topic slide.
“Nuh uh.” She drops her head lower, even though he’s too far to overhear. “I need more than that. He protecting you or something?”
“Or something.”
Her eyes widen a fraction, brows lifting; she presumably didn’t think her half-assed guess would be correct. “Is your family rich? Politicians?”
“Something like that.” Her guesses are close enough. Zeno wouldn’t appreciate me admitting there’s a mob running things.
“You’re being vague.”
“Vague is better for both of us. He won’t bother us. He’s here to watch me, just in case. Truthfully, it’s all bullshit. My brother’s overly protective.”
She grunts, still staring at Lev. After a moment, her lips curl. “Well, that explains your room arrangement. Your brother needed a place to put him. What’s his name?”
I hesitate to answer, because the less Amara knows, the better, but she won’t let this slide. Not now. And it’sonlya name. “Lev.”
“Hot. Actually, gotta admit,he’s…” She trails off, whistling. “The outfit. The hair. God, how the hell are you gonna live with him?”
“By ignoring him. Also, don’t forget, I’m dating someone.”
“Someone who isn’t even here.” She waves her hand in the air, as though that’ll produce Alessio. Her next remark is interrupted by the vibration of an incoming phone call.“Mio padre,”she groans. “Better get this. See you forcenalater? We’ll check out the dining hall.”
“Definitely.”Cena—supper or dinner—with Lev will be…interesting.
She gathers her books, somehow balancing her cell on top of the stack. Once she’s a short distance away, I collect mine and start back to my dorm, knowing my personal stalker will follow.
11
LEV
That was infinitely boring while being overstimulating at the same time. If her classes are anything like her book-buying experience, I’m fucking out.
The very books she’s struggling to carry. It’s admirable how she’s adamantly ignoring me, aware I’m available to carry them but refusing to ask. After another few feet, her pace slows to the point I’m catching up. Each book in her stack is a couple inches thick, the size I’d use as computer mounts if nothing else useful was around, so it’s no wonder she’s getting tired.
Without breaking my stride, I swipe them from her arms. At first, she clings tighter, fighting, but after a moment, she concedes with a muttered, “I was managing.”
