7. Millie
“So it’s a date, then?”
I couldn’t find the words to respond, instead simply nodded in agreement. In fact, I hadn’t said a single word during the odd, one-sided conversation. The moment I sat down in my chair, Chad appeared, smiling like he was in on some inside joke.
Maybe it was me. I was the joke. But if that was the case, why had he woven through the narrow row of chairs to strike up a conversation and ask me out on a date?
A date.
Something I’d yet to go on. Even though I wasn’t thrilled about Chad himself, a date was enticing. Maybe then I could finally lose all the V-cards I had stacked against me. Sure, I was brilliant, but inexperienced in so many ways.
I’d yet to even be kissed.
How sad was that?
Chad’s grin grew as he rapped a knuckle against the desk, as if that solidified our agreement.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” A familiar, calloused palm pressed to the top of my shoulder as Killian lowered into the seat beside me, glare directed at Chad.
“Finally asking the prettiest girl in class out on a date,” he responded, shooting me an exaggerated wink. “You got a problem with that, Cooper?”
When Killian didn’t respond, I swiveled in the hard chair, giving him my full attention. The muscle along his jaw popped, and a deep red highlighted his cheeks while his chest rose and fell in quick succession.
Concern had me reaching over and pressing the back of my hand to Killian’s forehead. Those aqua eyes slid my way.
“Whatcha doing there, Velma?” Killian asked, laughter lifting his tone.
“You’re flushed and seem to be having a difficult time breathing, so I’m checking for a fever. Are you sick?”
A softness settled over his features as he shook his head. Removing my hand, he kept it clasped in his own as he tucked our entangled fingers beneath the desk. With a curious look, he shook his head before turning back to Chad. The gentleness he showed me vanished between blinks.
“When is this date?” Killian asked.
“Friday night?” Chad asked, turning to me with a sharp grin that had me tensing. Despite the uncertain feeling growing in my gut about the guy, I really wanted to go on a date. To check that off my ultra-basic and pathetic ‘bucket’ list. At my nod, Chad flicked a winning grin to Killian. “Great. I’ll pick you up around seven.” Turning my notebook around, he jotted down a phone number in the corner. “Text me your address. See you then, Miley.”
“It’s Millie,” Killian hissed, hand tightening around mine. “Mill-ie. Not like Miley Cyrus.”
“Right.” He chuckled. “That’s what I meant. See you Friday.”
The moment Chad turned to head back to his seat several rows down, Killian swiveled in his chair, caging me in with one forearm pressed to the desk, the other against the back of my seat. His intense gaze searched my face, slowly scanning every inch with his full lips dipped in a frown.
“You like him, Velma?”
I shook my head and shrugged. Heat slid beneath my skin as Killian leaned even closer. It should freak me out, being trapped, but instead, my stomach fluttered as desire pulsed through my veins. Lips parted, breaths shallow, I swallowed before responding, hoping that would keep my voice from shaking and exposing how much I liked Killian crowding me.
“I don’t know him.”
A dirty-blond brow arched in question. “Then why say yes?”
I tilted my head. “Isn’t that the purpose of a date? To get to know someone and see if you do or don’t like them?”
“Why him, then?” he demanded. Up front, the professor took his place behind the podium, but Killian didn’t move. Not that Professor Daniels would look our way to notice. Ever since I told Killian about our teacher making me feel uncomfortable, Professor Daniels had backed off completely. In fact, he almost looked terrified anytime he acknowledged me in class when I answered a question or had one for him.
“Because he asked,” I whispered.
Not the right response, apparently.
With a scoff, Killian shoved himself back and turned toward the front of the class, arms folded over his muscular chest. That muscle along his jaw pulsed in rapid succession.
Disappointment and worry churned in my empty stomach, making me nauseous. My fingers trembled as I picked up a pen and adjusted the notepad back in front of my seat, ready to take notes on the lecture I had no hope of hearing with the confusion and unease swirling in my mind.
I swallowed a yelp when a hot palm pressed to the top of my jean-clad thigh, snapping my attention back to the man beside me. Head resting on top of a forearm folded on the desk, his bright eyes were locked on my own.
“I don’t like it. Something feels off. Don’t do it; don’t go out with him.”
I furrowed my brows. “But how will I ever mark it off my bucket list if I say no?”
“Mark off what?” he practically growled.
“A date,” I whispered. “It will be my first one. Ever.”
Killian’s long lashes fanned down in slow blinks. For several seconds, he just stared, not saying a word. “Right. I won’t take that away from you, even if I’m disappointed that first won’t be checked off with me.” A mischievous smirk pulled at his lips. “Guess I better make sure Chad understands my expectations on how to treat my friend on this date.”
“And what are your expectations?”
Killian just hummed a noncommittal response. With a nod, he released my leg and turned his attention to the professor. I studied him out of the corner of my eye, trying to understand what the hell had just happened. What did he mean by expectations? Maybe he was worried about my safety. I agreed to go somewhere alone with a guy I knew nothing about.
Damn. Maybe agreeing to the date was a dangerous move. What if he was a serial killer or, worse, dumb? I could end up missing, with my picture on every milk carton in America, or bored to death, all because I wanted to experience my first date.
Though this would offer an excellent opportunity to observe a new social situation to further analyze later. Understanding what drove someone, the why behind their behavior, was why I chose the psychology degree path, after all.
I didn’t want to go into counseling, helping others unravel their past trauma or issues. It was more so I could hopefully figure out how to fit in one day. If I understood the world, then maybe I could manipulate myself and my personality to fit what the world considered to be normal.
Well. As normal as someone like me could be.