Page 22 of I’ll Find You

A man stands near the entrance, his attention fixed on a table crowded with students. Then he turns, and relief washes over me. It's not Maxwell. It's Alex. He stands out immediately in his dark clothes. Broad shoulders fill out his jacket in the most sinful way. His eyes sweep the room with that same controlled confidence that seems to draw attention wherever he goes. I notice more than one group of women watching him before his gaze finally finds mine. The moment it does, something twists in my chest.

Chelsea exhales beside me. “He’s so hot,” she mutters, completely unashamed. “Unfairly attractive.”

I tear my gaze away from his, forcing myself to look back down at my notes. “Hm.” I pretend to read my paper.

“Don’t ‘hm’ me,” she says, nudging my foot under the table. “You see that, right?”

“Yep.” I force out one word at a time, incapable of saying anything more.

She leans in close, lowering her voice and making another failed attempt as she hisses, “Here he comes. I didn’t think he’d ever make a move after I talked to him last time.”

This gets my attention, as I remember the walk back to my old shared apartment when she asked for his number, but he politely turned her down.

Before I can respond, a shadow falls over the table.

“Hey,” his melodic voice rumbles deep, and my thighs clench involuntarily. Images of him stepping out of the shower flash through my mind, droplets cascading down his toned abs, wearing nothing but a towel.

“Hey,” Chelsea says back.

My head snaps up. Is he really here for her?

There’s a smile on his lips, a knowing smirk as if he knows exactly what I was thinking. Alex stands there, one hand casually on the back of an empty chair, his attention fixed entirely on me. Not Chelsea.

“Hey,” I say, my voice coming out huskier than I intend. What the fuck? I want to smack myself. Beside me, Chelsea goes rigid, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

“You left before I woke up,” he says.

Oh, you've got to be kidding me. To everyone around us, it sounds like we shared a bed. We didn't, but I doubt anyone's going to ask for clarification.

“I had a quick check-in with my advisor,” I offer up in explanation, although I don’t know why I feel compelled to do so.

His eyes flick briefly over the books spread out in front of us, then back at my face. “Studying?”

“Obviously,” I reply, trying to sound normal when my voice sounds anything but.

Chelsea clears her throat loudly, breaking our little bubble. “Oh, right. Um,” I say quickly. “This is my friend, Chelsea.”

He glances briefly at her. “Hey,” he says with a smile, but it falters when her eyes narrow, and I remember what she said about Alex being into someone else.

Chelsea blinks, caught somewhere between confusion and annoyance. “Hi,” she says, a little too quickly, as she begins gathering her things and shoving them into her backpack. She stands abruptly, looking back at him, and then at me. She begins to walk off.

“Wait,” I call out to her retreating form, standing to follow her. I already know where this is going, and I’m afraid I’m going to lose another friend. I catch up to her, grabbing her arm to stop her. “Chelsea⁠—”

She jerks her shoulder, shrugging me off, her backpack hitting me in the chest. Did I really deserve that? She turns to face me, anger burning as she stares me down.

“Rose,” she says slowly, “why is he talking to you like that? Saying those things? Are you—” Her posture stiffens. I lift my hand up to stop her runaway thoughts.

“No,” I say a little too quickly and a little too loudly. “I’ve been…” I stop, biting my lip.

Chelsea blinks. Then again. “You’ve been what, Rose?”

“It’s temporary,” I add quickly. “Just until I figure out a housing situation.”

“You’re staying with him?” she cuts in, her voice rising despite being in a library. A couple of people glance over.

I lower my voice. “Chelsea⁠—”

She holds up a hand. “You didn’t think to mention that?” she whispers harshly. “You know I’ve been crushing on him.”