“Pepperoni and pineapple.”
“Eww. Unforgivable.” I nudge his shoulder lightly, barely more than a brush. I hide my smile when he doesn’t react, too focused on defending himself.
“It’s good,” he insists. “The perfect combination.”
“Wrong. Pepperoni. Classic.”
We fall into it after that, arguing about soda (Coke for me, Sprite for him), chips (corn chips, we agree), candy (he’s gummy, I’m chocolate—dark only).
And if my hand brushes his knee once or twice…
That could be anything.
Or nothing.
And maybe he doesn’t pull away this time.
Eventually the light fades, swallowed by shadow, the birds quieting one by one as the woods slip into a listening hush. I glance up as the first stars emerge, faint and distant, suns that died long ago.
“It’s getting late,” I say, rising to my feet. Carrson stands too. “I told Lou I’d have dinner with the rest of the sorority.” I brush leaves from my clothes. “She put me in the room right next to hers.” I widen my eyes. “I can’t tell if that’s to protect me or because she doesn’t trust me.”
“Probably both,” he says, and I nod in agreement.
I tug my sleeve down, twisted from the chase, then stop. “Oh no.”
He’s beside me instantly, scanning for injuries. “What?”
I hold up the fabric. “It’s ripped. Must’ve happened when we fell.” I cover my eyes with a dramatic groan. “Lou’s going to hate me. I was trying to make a good impression.”
Carrson gives a low laugh. “Don’t worry. I’ll tell her it’s my fault. I’ll buy her a new one…” He pauses, then rushes on. “And one for you too. I meant it earlier. I like it.”
A long pause.
“How you look.”
There it is again. That lightness rushing through my veins, spreading quick and bubbling, catching before I can contain it.
I begin to smile, but the gesture only makes it halfway before it fails.
The shift is subtle but unmistakable. Whatever softened him before is gone. His mouth sets, his expression closes off, his posture goes rigid.
I resist the instinct to step back.
“Listen.” His voice drops low, full of warning. “You saw how fast I caught you. Jackson’s just as quick.” He comes closer. Not enough to touch, but enough that I feel it anyway. “From now on, you don’t come out here alone.”
My chest seizes.
“If you do,” he says, quieter now, dipping his head so I have no choice but to meet his gaze, “Jackson won’t be the one you have to worry about.”
“You’ll be dealing withme.”
The words hang between us.
“And you don’t want that.”
The warmth in my chest vanishes, leaving only cold behind.
Chapter twenty
