Chapter 30 – Clover
Chapter Thirty
Clover
He’s grinning, but he looks tired, like he’s been standing outside my window all night.
Knowing Thomas Bainbridge, he probably has been.
He has his hoodie pulled all the way up, but a shock of wavy brown hair peeking under it.
He doesn’t brush his hair, but it’s never gross or greasy. I don’t know how.
“Good morning,” he says cheerily, in a sleepy, but very British voice, nearly making me forget how much of a creeper he’s being because his eyes are such a pretty shade of clear grey. It’s so unfair that he’s a dick.
I have to remember to keep it together around him. I know what he’s capable of and I need to keep him on his toes. Last night doesn’t change anything and neither does the fact that we can’t seem to stop kissing each other when it’s obvious that we loathe each other.
“What are you doing?”
Thomas leans on the window sill and pushes his hoodie down, freeing his hair to capture and reflect the early morning sunlight. He’s so tall that he can lean on my window sill, even if it’s 6-feet off the ground.
“Taking you out to breakfast,” he says. “Aren’t you hungry?”
Boy, I’m always hungry. He doesn’t need to know that though.
“It’s six in the damn morning, Thomas. You came all the way here at six in the morning to take me out to breakfast? We have the dining hall.”
I don’t know why he keeps messing with me.
It’s probably some inside joke with the crew team, but I’m not going to be the butt of anyone’s joke anymore.
I messed up with Jude. I messed up with Kit.
I’m living with more self-respect now, which means no more messing up or messing with any white boys who are obviously bad news.
“It’s an apology,” Thomas says. “Breakfast equals apology. Simple.”
I roll my eyes. The word “sorry” would have worked just as well.
Or maybe even not being an asshole in the first place.
I lean forward, considering closing my window on Thomas’ fingers to chase him off when I catch a whiff of sweaty, gross and unwashed boy.
I sniff the air around Thomas dramatically, hoping to provoke some self-consciousness about his smell.
He just wrinkles his eyebrows in confusion until I flat out tell him his business.
“You look dirty. Were you there all night?”
He shrugs.
“Yes. Will you let me explain at breakfast?”
Does he not get how wrong that is? This is exactly why I should slam the window on his damn fingers. I can’t have him acting like a stalker, sleeping beneath my window… keeping me safe. Ugh. I don’t want to see the sweet side in his demented behavior.
I scowl at him so he can finally get it through his thick skull that despite his insanely attractive body, his personality makes the idea of sharing a meal with him entirely unappealing.
“No. I’m not even hungry.”
My stomach decides to betray me and growls. Really damn loud. Thomas smirks.
“Are you sure?”
“I don’t want to be seen with you.”
“We’ll take my car,” he says. “I’ve never taken it out.”
I roll my eyes to the back of my head. Typical guys— they all think you care about their cars when you really only care if it’s about to get repoed or not.
“I don’t care about fancy cars.”
“Neither do I. I care about bacon and eggs. Proper juice. When’s the last time you ate proper, delicious food? Not slathered in grease?”
He has a point. I found a worm in my dining hall apple just the other day.
I barely slept because of last night and I’m starving, all cases for heading off to breakfast with the devil himself.
My cheeks flush just thinking about how weird it is that I let him kiss me, especially after knowing what he did.
It’s almost like someone else did it.
If I go out with him to breakfast, he’ll know how much last night freaked me out. I don’t want that. I didn’t stop gripping that knife under the covers the entire night in my bed.
Molly came in at 3 in the morning and stayed up doing homework until 5:30 a.m. when she went out to the common room to have a nap. I didn’t stop, not even then. I barely slept.
“I’m fine.”
“You look like you haven’t slept,” he says, his voice getting surprisingly gentle, as if he really cared.
“Thanks for the damn compliment.”
“You still look pretty,” he says and the sweetness takes me aback.
“I’m going to change,” I snap. “Wait out there.”
“You’re coming to breakfast?”
“Yes.”
My heart throbs in my chest. My greed for food has clearly overpowered my better senses. I pull my window shade down and scatter my things all over my room to find my uniform. Who decided these damn skirts had to be so short? If you have any type of ass in this skirt, you look like a hoe.
Still, I don’t have a choice and I don’t want Thomas hanging around my window long enough for anyone to notice him.
I quickly text Sylvia and Kola that I’m going out to breakfast off campus, leaving out the critical detail that I’ll be doing this with Thomas, and open my window shade to find Thomas leaning against the window sill with a grin on his face.
“Ready?” He asks eagerly.
“Yes.”
“Perfect,” he says. “You look perfect.”
“Whatever, creep.”
“I’ve got something to show you. Come on out the window.”
“Why out the window?”
“Closer to my car. I’ll help you down.”
I glance out the window. I can make it down without Thomas’ help, but it would be more ladylike to walk out the door. Thomas already thinks I’m some type of hoochie, I don’t need to give him any more proof.
“I don’t need help,” I say, tossing him my backpack and then leaping out the window on my own. It’s a miracle I don’t stumble over. Thomas slings my backpack over his shoulder and grins.
“I look like shit. You look smart.”
“Thanks and you do look like shit.”
“I eat a lot,” Thomas says. “Need to get a head start. We’d better go.”
“Where do you even park your car?”
Since cars aren’t allowed on campus, everyone stashes theirs in secret spots within a mile radius of the school. Faculty just pretend they can’t see the influx of Porsches, Rolls Royces and other luxury vehicles in random places around town only during times that coincide with the school year.
Thomas smirks, and I bet he has a devious place to keep his car. His family’s allegedly loaded so I bet it’s some ridiculous gaudy sports car too.
“Off road from the boathouse in the woods. Great secret spot.”
“You have a talent for being the creepiest guy I know. Every time.”
He turns over his shoulder to look at me as I struggle to keep up with his tall man’s stride. That smirk on his face makes me want to smack him.
“What’s creepy about me?”
He has to be joking. I roll my eyes and hustle to keep up.
“You know what’s creepy.”
“The thing with your knickers?”
“Several things, Thomas. Now let’s get to your car before we get caught.”
“We won’t get caught.”
“I don’t mean by faculty.”
He sighs. “I’m sorry I fudged your plan.”
“It’s fine. Whoever it was might be hurt today. I’ll keep an eye out at school.”
“I’ll do the same,” he says.
“I don’t need your help,” I huff. Thomas shrugs.
“I know,” he answers. “Doesn’t matter. You have it.”
“We still aren’t friends.”
“We’re enemies with breakfast benefits.”
“Ew,” I grumble. “Don’t give it a name.”
We stop at the edge of the path at a tree marked aggressively with a hunting knife.
“You carved a ‘T’ into the tree to mark your car? Won’t that kill the tree?” I say to him.
“Bloody hope not. Come on.”
“I have to be crazy going into the woods with an asshole who threatened to kill me,” I mutter once the insanity of my situation hits me. Walking along a trail with Thomas is one thing — disappearing with this creeper into the woods could mean my life. I ain’t into that Ted Bundy shit.
“What’s the problem?”
“You threatened to kill me.”
“Oh. I didn’t mean that.”
“That makes it alright.”
He stops walking for a moment and faces me, his grey eyes all serious like one of those droopy dogs.
“No,” he says. “But I was scared.”
“Scared of what?”
“Follow if you want to know.”
Ugh… I stumble off the trail and try not to mess up my uniform as I traipse through the woods behind Thomas. Hopefully his car isn’t that far away or I might have to try to beat his ass again to get away from him. That might be a touch more difficult without those ‘cricket’ bats.
“Why the hell were you up all night?” I ask when I catch up to him.
“I wanted you to be safe. I meant that.”
I guess I didn’t have to stay up all night freaking out. Maybe I should have just let Thomas in the door.
“Thanks.”
“Cheers.”
“And what were you so scared of?”
He changes the subject abruptly. “Are you going to Kit’s Halloween party?”
Ugh. I don’t want to talk about Thomas’ roommate with him. I’ve kept out of Kit’s way recently but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to make a solid plan for introducing his legs to that incredible cricket bat I found.
I shrug. “Kit and I—“
“Fucked?” Thomas asked.
“No. He… You know what. I don’t kiss and tell.”
Thomas scowls. He knows I’m not the only guy who has kissed me here. I don’t want him getting all upset about it. I just feel so… awkward.
“Sorry,” Thomas says. “I know it’s… I know we’re not even…I…”
“Why do we keep kissing?” I ask him.
Thomas shrugs. “Dunno. You have big lips.”
“That has weird racial undertones.”
“Because black girls have bigger lips?” Thomas asks. My shoulders tense immediately. See, this is why I need to learn my lessons with these white boys.
“That’s…”
“Racist?” Thomas offers hopefully.
“Yeah. Kinda.”
“I mean it in a good way. Sorry. I mean… They’re soft. And really big.”
I feel self-conscious about the way he says it, but I notice his cheeks turning red. I don’t think that’s something white guys can control. I’m not extremely experienced with white boys enough to know.
We arrive at Thomas’ car.
“Seriously? You’re hiding a Range Rover in the woods? Why did you get it in this color?”
I did not expect his car to be a custom camouflage Range Rover.
Thomas grins. “I like going off-road. Come on.”
He clicks the keys in his pockets and I bound over leaves to get to his car. I open the passenger side and the smell hits me — the smell of the man who attacked me. It’s like the seat in Thomas’ car sucks me back against it and steals the air from my lungs.
Instant panic. Thomas slides into the driver’s side and gives me a funny look.
“You alright?”
But honestly? I can’t get air into my lungs. The reaction goes beyond me and spirals out of control. I don’t want him to see me like this.
* * *