18. Selene
18
SELENE
T he door clicks shut behind me as I step into my dorm room. My hair is still damp from my shower, the scent of my vanilla body wash lingers in the air as I walk across the room.
Finally.
It’s been a long day—too many classes, too much noise, too much time spent pretending I wasn’t exhausted. But now? Now it’s just me, a bed, and the book I’ve been dying to get lost in.
I throw my towel over the back of my desk chair just before putting on my oversized sweatshirt and leggings. I quickly climb into my bed and sigh as my body starts to relax. This is the kind of comfort I need after a day of pretending I have my life together.
I toss my wet hair up into a ponytail and then I grab the book I’ve been dying to read for months. This is the first evening in a long time I’ve had absolutely nothing to do and the thought of that makes me giddy. There are no pressing assignments, no shifts at the library, no impromptu study or group project work sessions. Just me and my bed and a whole night of uninterrupted reading. Not to mention, it’s the book that Knox and are supposed to be reading as a part of our very small “book club”.
Once my headphones are in and I have a playlist that contains soft, relaxing music, I find myself transported into another world. I’m so engrossed in the story that when my phone vibrates next to my thigh, I jump, nearly dropping my book in the process. I hesitate for a moment before pulling off my headphones and reaching for it.
A text from Knox greets me. Of course. I sigh, pushing my book aside, and open the message.
Knox: Hey. You bored?
Me: No. I’m in the middle of the book you and I are supposed to be reading. You?
Knox: Interesting. Have you gotten to the part where the heroine arrived on the island to help locate her missing best friend?
Wow. He’s actually reading the book.
Me: Yes, I have and I’m glad you didn’t just spoil a major part of the book for me.
Knox: I was pretty confident you made it up to that point.
Me: Okay fine. What are you up to?
Knox: Made a big ass mess when I tried to make a protein smoothie so I’m trying to clean it up. Turns out it's not as easy as it looks.
I bite my lip, trying not to smile as I start typing a response. Then I start, then stop, and then start again. This shouldn’t be so hard. They’re just texts. It’s not like I’m committing to anything by answering him. Still, a part of me knows that where this path is leading down.
I put the phone down for a second, pick my book back up, then immediately set it back down. My gaze shifts to the screen, and I grab it. I type quickly, then erase it. Ugh. Why am I overthinking this so much?
He’s just being friendly. I can be friendly, too. That’s all this is. And with that, I manage to come up with something else to say to him.
Me: That sucks. Need some help?
The moment I hit send, I regret it. This is exactly what I've been trying to avoid. Ever since our “outing” at Prosecco and Pose, we’ve been falling back into old patterns. Or at least I have.
But before I can overthink it, my phone buzzes again.
Knox: Nah, I got it. Wouldn't want to interrupt your reading time.
Me: How thoughtful of you.
Knox: I try.
There's a pause, and I can see the little three dots appear, disappear, and appear again. It looks as if I’m not the only one who is having issues figuring out what to say to the other person. I can almost picture him hesitating as he debates his next words.
Knox: But seriously, thanks for the offer. Rain check?
Me: You’re planning on making another mess?
Knox: You never know. There might be other messes I’d like you to help me clean up.
I stare at his last message like I can’t believe what I’m seeing. Is he... flirting with me? Nope. There’s no way. I chew on my bottom lip, fingers hovering over the keyboard as I think about what I should say back. Do I flirt back? Shut it down? Ignore it altogether?
After a long moment, I find something to say.
Me: I think you're perfectly capable of cleaning up your own messes.
There. Friendly but firm. Establishing boundaries without completely icing him out. I set my phone down, determined to get back to my book and not let myself get sucked further into this...whatever this is.
But seconds later, my phone buzzes again. I groan, grabbing it against my better judgment. I might be better off turning my phone off at this point.
Knox: Ouch. And here I thought we had something special.
He ends the message with a winking emoji, letting me know that he actually meant what he said, but he wants me to think he’s being chill about all of this.
Me: In your dreams, Sanchez.
Knox: Every night, Davis. Every night.
I roll my eyes but can't suppress the grin that appears on my face. This back-and-forth banter feels so natural, so effortless. It reminds me of how things used to be between us before everything got so complicated.
I set my phone down, still smiling to myself. As much as I hate to admit it, I've missed this, but now it’s time to shift gears. I pick my book back up, determined to get lost in its pages once more. I manage to read a few sentences before my mind starts to wander as Knox's words echo in my head.
Every night, Davis. Every night.
I know he meant it as a joke, but I can't help but wonder...does he really think about me that often? The idea sends a little thrill through me, even as I try to squash it down.
I'm just getting to an exciting part of my book when my phone vibrates again. I already know who it is.
Knox: What are you wearing?
I nearly drop my phone. He did not just ask me that. What. The. Hell?!
Me: Excuse me??
Knox: I meant to read! What are you reading? Damn autocorrect.
I stare at his response for a second and raise an eyebrow. Autocorrect my ass. He knew exactly what he was saying.
Me: Just something short and lacy. You know, my typical bedtime attire.
I hit send before I can change my mind. I can't believe I just sent that. I stare at my phone, waiting for his response. The three dots appear, disappear, then reappear.
Knox: Damn. Warn a guy before you go putting images like that in his head.
I smirk, feeling a rush of satisfaction. It's nice to know I can still keep him on his toes.
Me: You asked.
Knox: Touché. But seriously, what are you actually reading?
I pause, debating whether to tell him the truth or not. It's a romance novel, one with a particularly steamy scene I just finished. The idea of him knowing that seems like a blessing or a curse.
Me: Just some light bedtime reading. Nothing too scandalous.
Knox: I don't believe that for a second, but I'll let it slide. For now.
Me: How generous of you.
Knox: I'm a giver, what can I say?
I roll my eyes, but I know that to be true in more ways than one. This is dangerous territory, and I know it, but I can't seem to make myself stop. It just feels too damn good to talk to him like this.
Me: A giver, huh? I'll believe that when I see it.
Knox: Careful what you wish for. I might just have to prove it to you. Again.
His response sends a shiver down my spine. Is it wrong that I want him to prove it? I want to see just how much of a giver he can be? I shake my head because I need to clear my thoughts. We're just friends. Barely even that.
Me: I think I'll take my chances. Besides, don't you have a smoothie mess to clean up?
Knox: Way to change the subject. But you're right, I should probably get on that. It’ll probably eventually smell like shit if I don’t.
I wrinkle my nose at the image, but a laugh escapes from my lips anyway. He clearly has a way with words.
Me: Gross. On that lovely note, I think I'll get back to my book. Good luck with your mess.
Knox: Thanks. Enjoy your "light bedtime reading." Goodnight.
Me: Night.
As I settle back down into my book, I can't quite shake the warm feeling that talking to him put in my chest. After reading the same paragraph three times without absorbing a single word, I sigh and set the book aside. It's clear my focus is shot for the night. I glance at my phone because I’m tempted to grab it and text him again, but I resist the urge. Instead, I lay my head down on my pillows and stare at the ceiling.
Where is all of this even going?
I roll over and bury my face in my pillow with a groan. Why does this have to be so complicated? Why can't I just enjoy whatever this is without over analyzing everything? But I know the answer to that without having to waste an ounce of brain power on it.
Because it’s Knox.