Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
Chase
The second my pen lifts from the page, my notebook is swiped from under me, my head yanking toward Paige as she grins my way, quickly flipping through the pages.
I tense, watching as she scans over my handwriting, a small scowl building along her features as she does.
“I don’t know whether to be embarrassed or impressed,” she teases. “Or maybe I’m a little of both because your notes are almost the lecture verbatim.”
I force myself to chuckle, hoping it doesn’t sound as anxious as it feels, and track the item as she slides the notebook back onto my desktop. If she were to look closer, she would see it is nearly the entire passage from today’s section. I copied as much as I could in the library this morning.
“Is this your way of kissing his butt since nothing ever happened with the whole phone-during-testing thing, being overprepared just in case he comes to look? I still feel like that was my fault, by the way.”
“It wasn’t and one of us has to act like we’re paying attention to avoid his.”
She tips her head, her long hair falling over her shoulder and piling on her desk. “Are you calling me out right now?”
“I mean, you’ve been staring at me for the last five minutes.”
Her lips purse adorably, that cute little blush I might be getting addicted to creeping up her chest as she takes in the slow curve of my mouth.
I can’t help but lean in a little, keeping my tone low. “Not going to deny it, Shortcake?”
“Shush.” She faces forward to avoid giving away her full smile, and I’m a little surprised at how much I want to see it, at how nice this feels.
It’s been a few weeks since the theater, and while my mind was heavy in the few days that followed, we’ve somehow fallen into this easy rhythm where we’re a bit more playful than before.
A small shift that she initiated, and though I’ve tried, I find myself powerless to evade, likely from the fact that I don’t want to.
I quite like this other side of her, and I like to think I’m the only one who sees it.
I keep my eyes locked on the side of her face, knowing she can feel my stare, and watch as her smile breaks free little by little, welcoming the prickling sensation that plays along my spine.
Finally, she gives, an airy laugh leaving her as her chin drops to her chest, but only for a moment before she faces forward once more. “It’s your fault.”
“Oh?” I fold my hands over the edge of the desk, moving all the way over until I’m all but caging her tiny frame. “Do I distract you?”
“Not even a little.” She shakes her head, but her lips couldn’t possibly curve higher.
I stare at the corner of her mouth, a smile on my own face as I drop back against my seat. “Mm-hmm.”
She laughs this time, folding her legs in her chair and shifting so she’s facing me. “Okay, but seriously. This is so boring. If everyone followed the syllabus, we should have already read this. Why do we need to sit and listen to him talk about it?”
“Did you read it?”
She scrunches her nose with a grin. “No, but I will later.”
Now I’m the one who’s laughing.
“Okay, serious question.” She glances at the professor and leans toward me. “If you had to guess, what would you say was Professor Michaels’s favorite hobby?”
My eyes cut forward, narrowing on the silver-haired man. “Judging by the vest he’s wearing today, chess. Or knitting. Competitive bird watching?”
“No way.” She hides her laugh behind her hand, her head shaking.
“No?”
“Nope. He’s very…” She peeks at me from the corner of her eye.
Mine narrow. “Very?”
“Growly.”
“Growly?” I deadpan.
She nods, pinning me with her grin. “Yeah, you know. Growly, like…”
I raise a brow, and she giggles. It’s girlie and soft, sweet, but there is no mistaking the mischievous undertone, and it clicks.
Rubbing my lips together, I pin her with my gaze. “What are you trying to say, hmm? Some not-so-angelic things? That maybe he’s into pottery ’cause he’s got to be good with his hands?”
“Oh my gosh.” She puts her face in her palms. “You said it, not me.”
Chuckling, I reach out and grip her wrists, gently pulling her hands back.
Her cheeks have turned pink, and that makes me smile wider. There’s a lightness in my chest that isn’t usually there, and I take a moment to enjoy it. The easiness of this, of…us and the friendship we’ve formed.
It’s different than with the guys, than with Ari and Cam. Maybe it’s because there is no history there. Because she doesn’t know every detail of my life, past or present.
This girl, she makes it hard to remember I’m not supposed to want this, whatever this is.
I told myself I wouldn’t go there, but right now, with her leaning in, laughing like I’m the only one in this room full of many, I don’t know.
I wish I could have a small glimpse into her mind to know if she’s just this kind, shy, gorgeous girl I’ve known the last few years or if there’s a chance for more here.
I want to know if, when she looks at me, she sees a man and all his faults or if she sees more. Or maybe less.
Does she see anything at all, or is that my lonely, weak mind playing tricks on me?
“Hey.” Her soft voice snaps me out of my head, and my eyes fall to where her hand has reached out, now resting on my forearm. I look from it to her eyes, and slowly, that blush is back.
It’s crazy, but I feel the heat of her flush in my core, and a spark of adrenaline zips through me. This feeling, it’s akin to when I’m on the field and that kind of blows my mind.
Because when I’m laced up and toeing that ten-yard line, I’m home.
So what’s this mean?
The lights flicker on, the projector cutting off, and students stand, the room suddenly bursting with sounds as everyone starts packing up. My attention returns to Paige, the tension in my chest loosening when she still wears a small smile as she shoves her things in her bag, so I do the same.
She waits until I’m ready to stand, and together, we shuffle from the aisle and out the door.
The second we step out of the building, she sighs, running her hands down her arms. “Finally. Sun.”
My gaze slides her way, finding her eyes closed as she looks up at the sky, and I can’t help but take in her features.
Her skin is golden from all our time at the beach this summer and only now starting to fade as fall settles in.
I’m not sure if she always has them or if they only come out with the sun, but she has a little smear of tiny freckles along her cheeks and shoulders.
The flowery sundress she’s wearing today is strapless, and my fingers are itching to reach out and trace the path of freckles, to see if they’re palpable to the touch or blended into her skin.
I step closer and her eyes open, her head tipping back a bit so she can keep her eyes on mine. I’d like to keep them on me even if only for a little while longer. “I know you’re supposed to meet the others for lunch—”
“We are supposed to meet the others for lunch, just like we’ve done twice a week for the last few semesters.”
I nod, even though I haven’t gone to any since classes started up in August. “Right.”
Her head tips to the side, her smile so fucking sweet, my feet shuffle in even more until my sneakers are brushing the edge of her sandals. “Why don’t you ever come to lunch anymore, Chase?” she asks softly.
So soft and without a hint of judgment that I want to tell her. I want to let her into my world a little and see if she looks for the fastest route out, but I’m afraid to see pity.
I can’t handle that, not from her. I don’t know what it is—I can’t quite put a name to it yet—but when I’m near her, it’s like there’s this current just beneath the surface, pulling me in before I even realize I’m moving.
It’s not just attraction or curiosity. It’s deeper, something that tugs at a part of me I don’t fully understand.
It’s bigger than reason. Bigger than me.
And that scares the shit out of me because no matter how many times I shuffle the cards I’ve been dealt, it’s the joker that stares back at me—over and over and over.
So how can I lean into something bigger than me when I’m the lesser man in every equation?
When I know without a sliver of doubt that this girl right here, she deserves the kind of man that can give her everything.
Not one who can’t even afford a damn meal plan anymore that would make it possible to eat lunch with her every day.
What would she say if she knew I was more or less living off locker-room protein bars and bologna sandwiches in my dorm at night?
But I do have a little money, and I’ve applied at another dozen places over the last week, so there’s a chance I might have a little more coming in at some point. So maybe I can take her somewhere. Maybe just to Denny’s down the street.
I think she’d like that. More than once, I’ve seen her go for pancakes when they were an option.
“Paige—”
“There she is!”
Paige’s head jerks to the left. “Grant?”
My attention follows just in time to catch the man’s small scowl. “Sweetheart…”
“I mean, Grandfather, hi.” She quickly corrects herself, looking back at me and motioning for me to follow her to the older man standing just outside a sleek SUV.
Kevin, our driver from the night we went to the show, stands not far to the side, his hands folded in front of him. He gives a small bow in recognition before focusing back on the older man.
That’s Paige’s grandfather.
If I hadn’t done my research on the jet last night, after today, I wouldn’t need to.
Not only because he has her eyes, or I guess she has his eyes, but the man just screams money. I’ve heard people say that before, and I don’t know that I ever truly understood what it meant until this moment.