Chapter 22
Guinevere
T he aroma of coffee beans and baked goods fills my senses as I wait for my latte. Café Grind is always packed on a Monday, but today is particularly freezing outside, so everyone is here waiting for their warm drinks before heading to class.
This past weekend was… interesting, to say the least.
When I woke up Saturday morning, I had six missed calls from Damian, and several texts from Lainey and Ellie wondering where I went and if I was part of the fight earlier in the night.
When I walked into the kitchen, they were all sitting there drinking coffee, and giving me a stern look. I told them everything, including the fact that I had Ryker stay with me until I fell sleep.
Why the hell I did that, I have no freaking clue. I don’t know why I even told him anything about my dad and my family drama.
I don’t know if Ryker stayed until I fell asleep, considering I don’t even remember going to bed. But when I woke up in the morning, he was gone. I haven’t heard from him since, and honestly, I don’t even care.
Okay, maybe I care a little bit. But why? Sure, he punched a guy for me, and sure, he listened to my sob story. But he only did that because I cried like a fucking idiot in front of him. He doesn’t actually care about me.
The barista calls my name, and I grab my latte, saying thank you before walking away. My phone rings in my pocket, and when I pull it out, my mother’s face is on the screen. I take a deep breath before answering.
“Gwenny?” Mom says as soon as the line connects. She sounds concerned. I set down my latte and my bag on the table to my side and take a seat in the accompanying chair.
“Mom? Is everything okay?” I ask. My mother sighs, making my eyes narrow as curiosity runs through me.
“Are you okay? Did your father call?” My father must have told her he called me the other night. But why is she just calling me now when this happened three days ago?
“I’m fine, mom. Why are you just calling me about it now?” I don’t mean to sound rude, but I’m over thinking about my dad. I just want to move on. He doesn’t deserve my tears.
“He just called me. He told me he called Friday to tell you about his move,” she says softly. “I asked him if he’d wished you a happy birthday, but he said he’d forgotten. I know you must be hurt, so I wanted to call to check in.”
He’d obviously called my mom to tell her about his upcoming move. He said he wanted me to hear the news from him, which meant he couldn’t tell my mom before me because she would have told me.
“I’m so sorry, honey. But I hope you still had a wonderful day. Did you get my gifts?” I smile. Mom sent me a few outfits, a new watch, and a couple gift cards.
“I did, thank you. I really love them.”
“Good. Are you coming home for Thanksgiving?” she asks, a bit of hope in her voice. I haven’t really even thought about Thanksgiving let alone what I’ll be doing. Of course I’ll probably go home, I don’t really have another option.
“Yeah,” I say. I hear my mom’s soft squeal of excitement on the other end which makes me chuckle.
“Oh, perfect! I can’t wait to see you, Gwenny. It feels like it’s been forever.”
It has. I haven’t been home since the beginning of the semester. I haven’t really had a reason to go back, and honestly, I hate driving. I know it’s a pretty short drive, but it’s a drive, nonetheless. I check the new golden watch on my wrist for the time.
“Shit. Mom, I have to go to class. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Love you!”
I shove my phone in my pocket, grab my bag and latte, and practically sprint out of the café to Mallory Center. I have never been late, and I can’t believe I let myself get so distracted.
As I round the corner down the hall from the classroom, I bump into a hard body. Thankfully, my latte doesn’t spill all over my new blouse and scarf.
I look up to see Ryker standing in front of me, a huge smirk on his face. Rolling my eyes, I let out a groan.
“Haven’t learned your lesson yet, huh Rebel?” I narrow my eyes at him as he guffaws.
“You’re the one standing in the middle of the hallway!” I glance around the empty hall and into the classroom, noting that Professor Whitely is not yet in the room. Good, I’m not entirely late.
“What are you doing out here anyway?”
Ryker’s smirk turns into something softer, more serious.
“Waiting for you. I haven’t heard from you since Friday night,” he explains. My heart skips and my stomach flutters.
My arms fold over my chest, and I quickly look down at my feet, hoping he didn’t see the way my cheeks blushed at the thought of him waiting for me.
“I’ve been busy,” I lie. In reality, I’ve been avoiding him, because the feelings I’m having regarding him are damn confusing.
I hate him. At least, I want to hate him. But every time we’re together, I feel this pull, this need to be close to him, and I really despise not having control over my feelings.
Ryker doesn’t look like he believes me one bit. His brow cocks and his head tilts slightly as he takes a step closer to me. My breath catches in my throat. A dark piece of hair falls across his forehead as his green eyes bore into mine.
“Well, our project is due Friday. We should probably finish everything up, yeah?” he asks. How can he look so casual yet so intimidating at the same time? I nod.
“Yeah. Yes. We should…do that,” shit. Who the hell am I right now? I don’t stutter. I don’t fawn over men. Especially one that I hated not even two weeks ago.
“You can come to the Elite house. The guys have a meeting on campus tonight, so they won’t be there,” Ryker winks suggestively. Did I say hated? I meant very much still hate.
I roll my eyes. “In your dreams.”
Something flashes behind Ryker’s stare, and I can’t pinpoint what it is. Challenge? Lust?
“You’re coming to the rugby game tonight,” Ryker demands. Hell no I’m not. I’ve never been to one of those games, and I’m not starting now. Especially since he’s the one that asked. I shake my head as I begin walking to the lecture hall.
“That wasn’t a question, Gwen. You’re coming!” he calls after me, and I flip him off behind my back. I can almost feel his smirk burning into the back of my head, and for some reason, that send a warm feeling through me.
Ryker Steele, what are you doing to me?