4. Millie
“Velma.” Bright red and yellow leaves crunched beneath my feet as I slowed, a smile tugging at my lips as I looked over my shoulder toward the man calling out for me. Killian picked up his pace, jogging to cut the distance between us. At my side, he placed both hands on his knees, taking in exaggerated breaths. “Damn, you walk fast for a tiny thing. If I didn’t know any better, I’d take it as a personal slight that you basically sprinted out of class after you turned in your test.”
I arched a brow and shrugged. Maybe I had left in a rush, but not because of him. I didn’t plan to tell him the real reason, either. It felt inappropriate to tell your only friend that the professor’s insistent pressure to be his teaching assistant next semester felt… off. Add in that he continued to offer a chance for extra credit if I would stop by during his office hours, and it made me feel uncomfortable around the professor even in the crowded classroom.
“What did you think of the test?” I asked instead of voicing the concerns filling my thoughts and started the walk toward the parking lot.
His hand wrapped around my bicep, slowing me to a stop once again. Exotic eyes scanned my face, lips dipping at the corners.
“What aren’t you telling me?” My lips parted, ready to lie, but he cut me off before I could. “Don’t lie to me, please. I see it.” He pointed a finger between my brows. “It’s there, circling in your thoughts.”
“Are you a mind reader or something?” I scoffed, hating that he read me like an open book. Was that normal? We’d only known each other for a few weeks. His being able to understand and read my body language at this stage of our friendship was odd.
That finger pressed between my brows. “You get this little line between your eyebrows when you’re stuck on something you can’t solve. So, out with it, Millie.”
“It’s nothing, Killian.” I adjusted the straps of my stuffed backpack, drawing his attention to the heavy weight. “Hey, what are you doing?”
I grappled for my backpack, but he moved too fast, stripping it off my shoulder and draping it over his own, shooting me a cocky smile. “Nope, it’s mine. I’m holding it hostage until you tell me what’s bothering you. I know it’s not how you did on the test. You could’ve passed that with your eyes closed.”
“Why would I take a test with my eyes closed?” A strong, cool breeze sent the leaves rustling around us, cutting through my thin sweater. Like everything else, Killian noticed my slight shiver, even though I tried to keep it hidden, not wanting this moment with him to end.
Strangely enough, I liked his company, enjoying the confusing conversations and not being alone to figure out so much. Before he sat in that seat, which he demanded I save for him the rest of the semester, I was okay with my solitary life. Now I looked forward to the days I would see him. I even searched the campus grounds between classes, hoping to run into him.
Which never happened. It was like he was here for classes only, then vanished to wherever he went off campus. It was odd and concerning. I’d noticed a few times he appeared exhausted, with deep purple bags beneath his eyes, and after fall break, he returned injured, even though he denied it.
“Come on. You’re cold, and I won’t stop bothering you until you explain why you ran out of class like your ass was on fire.” My whole body tensed when he draped an arm over my shoulders and tugged me to his side. “I’m buying you the best coffee on campus.”
My feet followed as he directed me toward the small coffee shop that operated on campus. “But I don’t like coffee.” My nose wrinkled, thinking about that one time I tried to drink it to stay up and finish a book. “And it’s really nothing, Killian.” His hand tightened around my shoulder, and I shot him a confused look. “Why do you always do that?”
“Do what?”
“Flinch or react strangely when I say your name. Am I saying it wrong or something?” In my mind, I ran through the various ways it could be pronounced but came up blank.
“No, it’s just”—he ran a hand through his shaggy dirty-blond hair—“you’re the only one who calls me that, and it just catches me off guard every time.”
“I can stop?—”
“No,” he practically shouted before clearing his throat. “I like it.” I remained silent, hoping he’d give me a little more insight. “It’s what my mom called me.”
“Called? Do you not talk to her anymore?”
His smile was forced as he shot me a wink. “Only on Friday the thirteenth through my Ouija board.”
I knew that game and quickly realized what he hinted at in his very Killian way.
“Oh. I’m sorry.” His eyes turned sad before he looked away. That expression made my stomach cramp oddly, hating seeing him upset when his smile was what I looked forward to every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. “I don’t like coffee, but I drink tea.”
My heart leapt when his smile returned at my words.
Damn. I was in so much trouble with this guy.
At the glass door, Killian grabbed the handle and yanked it open, gesturing for me to enter first. The overpowering scents of coffee, steamed milk, and something spicy engulfed me as I crossed the threshold, the walls offering a welcome reprieve from the crisp breeze.
After ordering our drinks, we settled into a pair of comfortable chairs tucked into the corner. Rapping my fingers along my thigh, I slowly scanned the small space, loving the quaint feel. It was a perfect place to come if I wanted people’s interaction without actually having to talk to anyone. My gaze snagged on two girls across the sitting area, who kept eyeing Killian before whispering to each other.
I shifted in the seat, realizing quickly how odd Killian and I looked. He was this preppy, all-American god, with his surfer body, messy blond hair, and chiseled features, and I was, who most would probably assume, his charity case. I ran a hand down my straight dark hair, tucking a few strands behind my ear.
Maybe I should try harder to fit in. I never really cared until Killian, but now I found myself self-conscious about my baggy clothes and lack of style. Makeup would be a good start, maybe some hair products so it didn’t just hang limply at my shoulders.
“You’re doing it again,” Killian said after taking our drinks from the server. She hovered around for a second before realizing his attention wouldn’t stray from me. With a quick once-over my way, she huffed and whirled around, hurrying back behind the counter.
“Doing what?” I grumbled. Taking the to-go cup from his outstretched hand, I carefully set it on the side table, giving the leaves a second to steep in the steaming water.
“Trying to solve a problem in that brilliant mind of yours.”
I scoffed. “Not so brilliant; that would be you.” That was the truth. I could read anything and remember it, but Killian could hear anything and have it memorized immediately. It was insane.
Insanely hot.
“True,” he said around the lip of his coffee cup. “Tell me what’s bothering you now, then we’ll go back to the other issue.”
I shrugged, chewing on my lip, and glanced at the window. “What are you doing, Killian?”
When he didn’t immediately respond, I dared a look back his way. A shocked expression crossed his handsome features before he schooled them into the aloof mask he wore for everyone else. The one I hated because it was fake as shit. He didn’t look at me that way when we talked.
That mask was the Cooper version of Killian that everyone got but me.
“Drinking the best coffee on campus with my friend. What are you doing, Velma?”
“Wondering why in the hell you’re doing this. Why are you even here, trying to get me to tell you what’s bothering me? Why do you care? What’s in it for you? Tell me that, answer that question, and I might just tell you what bothered me earlier.”
If he gave me a typical bullshit ‘Cooper’ answer, then I’d forget the yummy-smelling Earl Grey tea and walk out. I didn’t want to tarnish my view of Killian because of this one instance we hung out outside the classroom.
“Nothing is in it for me, and that’s why,” he said, features falling as he stared at his fingers wrapped around the cup. His aqua eyes looked up through light lashes. “You want nothing from me—” He cut himself off with a scoff. “Well, except for the expectation that I drop the bullshit persona I play.”
“Why do you?” I leaned in closer, our knees brushing. His gaze flicked down to the contact. Instead of pulling away, he shifted to keep the minuscule touch.
“My life is… complicated, so much so not even the great Velma or you could figure out a way for me to avoid my future.” He took a thick swallow of his coffee. “It’s easier to be the person everyone wants to be around than let them see the real me. It keeps them from asking too many questions.”
“But not me?”
His lip quirked at the side. “No, Millie, not you. And it’s a mind fuck, let me tell you. I’ve pretended for so long, then I met this tiny thing in class that can actually tell the difference between my bullshit and the real person beneath. Most people don’t look that hard. They just take the good times and wait around, expecting more.”
“That sounds exhausting,” I whispered. “What do you mean, too many questions?”
That full lower lip rolled inward as his teeth bit down. “There are expectations for me, ones that my father won’t see derailed. Relationships can do that, so he’s very… observant to make sure I don’t mess up his plans.”
I processed his words for a few moments before responding. “And since we’re so different, you don’t think your father will see me as a threat to that future, so you’re okay with being the real you around me.”
I didn’t like that at all.
“No.” I jumped at the conviction in his loud voice. His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “It’s not that. Now, I answered your question, so you owe me an answer to my earlier one.” His eyes searched my face before they narrowed. “Does it have something to do with the way Professor Daniels watches you?”
I leaned back, lips parted in surprise. “You noticed that, too?” He nodded, lips in a tight line. “He hasn’t done anything,” I muttered.
“Doesn’t mean he won’t. That’s a shit response, Millie, and you know it. You cannot base someone’s future actions based solely on their previous ones. If he makes you feel uncomfortable, then add that to the equation.”
My head cocked to the side as I stared at him, unseeing. “You’re right.”
“Of course I am. I’m brilliant.”
I smiled. “So am I, and I didn’t come up with that reasoning.”
“Let’s chalk it up to my street smarts.” I rolled my eyes, making him laugh. It was a running joke between us that I didn’t pick up on things like he did. I was either more socially inept than I realized, or he was just more observant than I gave him credit for. “Besides looking your way every eleven minutes”—I blinked at that. Had he timed it? And why didn’t I think of that?—“what else has he done to make you feel uncomfortable?”
With a resigned sigh, I told him about the extra credit conversation, where Professor Daniels practically begged me to be his TA next semester.
A small squeak escaped, and I flew back in my chair to avoid the spray of hot coffee as it exploded from the now-crushed cup in Killian’s hand. He glared at me, though deep down I knew his obvious anger wasn’t aimed at me. My heart raced as a cruel smirk curved his lips. Without a word, Killian stood from his seat and weaved through the various tables, grabbing a stack of napkins and whispering something to the girl behind the counter before coming back to the table.
Stopping in front of me, he wiped down the few drops that landed on my hand and shoes before tossing the used napkins away. Still in a bit of shock, I took his offered hand in a daze, allowing him to pull me out of the chair. Fingers wrapping around mine, he led me out of the café, not uttering a word as we walked toward the parking lot.
“Killian?” I whispered, jogging to keep up with his long strides.
“We’re all good, Millie. I just remembered I have somewhere I need to be.” At my car, he tossed my backpack onto the back seat, slamming the door shut before leaning against it with both arms crossed. “Go home, finish that book you told me about, start another, and don’t think twice about that fuck nugget professor.” I opened my mouth to ask a question, but his slow headshake kept me quiet. “You’re safe with me, Millie, always.”
“Okay.” The metal key ring bit into my palm as I tightened my fist. “Killian?”
“Yeah.”
“Just tell me one thing.”
He eyed me warily. “Depends on the question.”
“You’d tell me if you needed help, right?” His arms dropped to his side, lips parted. “Your father, his expectations. I’m not much, but I can help you if—” A grunt escaped when his thick, muscular arms wrapped around me and crushed me to his chest. Tears welled in my lower lids as I snaked my arms around his lean waist.
One minute, maybe twenty… I wasn’t sure how long we stood in the nearly empty parking lot embraced in the first true hug I’d ever received.
“Thank you,” he whispered in my hair.
“For what?”
“For being unapologetically you. For being open to take on an unknown threat, all for me.” When he pulled back, instead of seeing contentment like I felt, sadness was written all over his face. “Listen, I gotta go handle something. See you Monday, Velma.”
Before I could utter a response, Killian turned and walked away, both hands curled into fists at his side. Warmth grew in my chest as I watched until he disappeared around a corner. He was angry on my behalf, and that was… unexpected.
Amazing, but unexpected.
With a lovesick sigh, I collapsed into the driver’s seat of my small Lexus SUV. The luxury car wasn’t love and support like most parents offered their kids, but it and unending funds while in school were gracious gestures from Mom and Dad.
Leaning against the steering wheel, I didn’t smother the slow smile that crept across my face.
This felt real, the friendship with Killian, and it was magical. Today proved he wasn’t talking to me for some agenda but that he actually cared about me. How deep that care went, I couldn’t gauge. And that was okay. I’d take whatever I could get from my only friend.
So what if every time I saw him, another little piece of my heart fell for him?
It wasn’t his god-like good looks or his incredible brain that had me falling for him. It was the easy conversations that made me feel as close to normal as I ever felt in my life. The way he made me feel special in a crowded room, singling me out to focus all his energetic attention. There were others who wanted it, who did their best to pull his focus to them, but he ignored them every time.
For me.
When, for my whole life, I was the one ignored, brushed off, and not important enough for others to acknowledge.
Not Killian.
I bit my lip and pushed the start button, ready to get home and daydream about one man.
Move over, book boyfriends, a new, real-life fantasy had taken over.
It would never happen, Killian and me, but it didn’t hurt to dream.