Distractions
Chapter fourteen
Hayes Rosewood
For the second time this semester, I’m in shock that Aurora said yes. To tutor me for money is one thing, but to fake date? For free? I feel like I’ve won two back-to-back fights where the odds were stacked against me. And even though she hasn’t texted me since Saturday night, I can’t stop smiling.
A few girls giggle and wave as they pass me in the hallway.
I nod to them from where I’m leaning against the wall outside of the Digital Logic classroom but don’t try to talk to them.
Now that I have a girlfriend, that wouldn’t be appropriate.
I guess I could talk to a woman without flirting with her. Not sure I’ve ever tried it, though.
I spot Aurora making her way through the crowded hallway with her earbuds in.
Though her posture is tall and graceful as ever, she keeps her eyes downcast, so she doesn’t see me waiting.
I grip the cup I’m holding a little tighter.
Condensation drips through the fingertips of my right hand and onto the top of my black sneaker.
My hand feels like it might fall off from carrying an iced drink in October, but this is the one thing besides pink and ballet that I know about Aurora. Her coffee order.
She turns to the classroom, and I hold out the coffee in front of her, making her stop short. I rattle the cup a little as she removes an earbud.
“For you.”
Her brows pull together.
“Why would you do that?”
A group of girls in sorority T-shirts pass us, unabashedly staring. Aurora notices and glares at them. They walk a little faster, making me chuckle.
“Your reputation is going to be worse than mine if you keep that up,” I tease, and push the cup toward her. “It’s salted caramel.”
Warily, she takes the cup.
“I don’t want a reputation.” She lifts the drink and looks at the label on the side, then takes a small sip. “Thank you,” she mumbles.
“Anything for my girlfriend,” I reply. She winces. “Also, everyone has a reputation. Some reputations just travel farther than others.”
She sighs. “I want mine to stay close to home, then.”
I push open the classroom door and gesture for her to go in first. She does, and I follow her to our seats.
“It’s a little late for that. I figured you knew what you were getting into when you said yes.” My voice is low, so no one else can hear us. There aren’t many people in the room, though, since we’re fairly early.
“It’s just weird to walk around and have everyone stare. I don’t know how you deal with it.”
She sets down the coffee, then starts to pull out her supplies.
I shrug. “I’m used to it, I guess.”
Her nose wrinkles. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.”
“How are you okay performing in front of so many people?” We’ve talked about this before, but it still doesn’t make sense to me.
She sits down and opens her laptop. The background lights up with a picture of her in a graduation cap, smiling faintly while being hugged on all sides by people with similar features to her. Family, probably.
“That freaks me out sometimes, too. At least, if I think about it too hard,” she replies, and takes a sip of her drink. “But that’s a performance. I know you think it’s boring of me, but I don’t want my life to be a show offstage.”
I frown. “I was kidding about that the other day. I understand not wanting to be on display all the time, even if I’m fine with it.
” It’s not smart to push back on her agreeing to date, but I don’t want her to regret this, so I continue, “Why do this, if you hate attention like you say? I know it can’t be because you like me, or else we’d be actually dating. ”
Her gaze flicks to me, then back to her laptop.
“Would we? Or would we go on one date, then never talk again, like you and Mckinleigh?”
I barely resist the urge to shudder at the mention of my wannabe stalker.
Aurora has a point, though. I’m not sure what would have happened if she would have said yes to my first attempt at asking her out.
Or any attempt, for that matter. I’m used to going on one, maybe two dates with a woman and then moving on.
It’s not that I’m allergic to commitment, but I also haven’t been looking for anything serious.
Deep down I know that if I am in a relationship, that woman will have to withstand the weighty responsibility I’m avoiding. If I got far enough to talk about the future … I don’t know how I’d tell someone I’m so afraid of botching my legacy that I went to college just to delay the inevitable.
“Is this all a ruse to get me to fall in love with you and make things real?” I ask in a low, teasing voice.
Why answer her question when it’s not something either of us really wants to address?
Aurora rolls her eyes. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” Her hand flicks toward her laptop screen. “I said yes to get my family to leave me alone. They want me to date and go to parties. This will get them to stop pestering me for a little while.”
I look again at the photo, smiling a little at how tight-knit they appear. If they’re that involved in her social life, then they must all be close. I don’t have anything like that. My parents check in, but aside from what affects the Rosewood legacy, they don’t care much about my day-to-day life.
“Will I get to meet them, or do they live far away?”
Her eyes widen at my question.
“No. You will not meet my parents. I feel bad enough lying to them as it is. I should be able to get by with a few pictures and fake updates.”
“Got it. No meeting the parents. But we’ll need photos?” I glance at the front where the professor has just put the slides up on the screen. “You didn’t answer my texts, so I don’t know what this looks like to you.”
She toys with the straw of her coffee cup, not meeting my gaze.
“Sorry, I just needed some time. Why don’t we talk about things during our next tutoring session?” she suggests.
I reach out and tip her chin up so her gaze meets mine. Her blue eyes are bright and clear, with a tinge of worry lining the edges.
“Don’t apologize, I know this is a lot. But we’re in it together, yeah?”
She nods ever so slightly. I brush back a strand of hair that escaped from her ponytail. Aurora stiffens.
“For our audience,” I whisper, then wink.
Her lips twitch like she wants to smile, but she doesn’t.
The professor begins his lecture, and Aurora pulls back to focus on the screen.
I drop my left arm over the back of her chair, making sure to go beneath her long ponytail so I don’t accidentally pull on it.
The dark locks shine in the light streaming through the windows, a stark contrast against the pale gray hoodie I’m wearing.
I consider running my fingers through the strands, wondering if I’d lose my hand for it.
“Pay attention,” Aurora scolds in a whisper. “I don’t date failures.”
I press my lips together to stifle a laugh.
“It’s your fault for distracting me,” I murmur.
Her gaze cuts my direction, and I notice she looks more flushed than usual. She gives a little shake of her head and looks pointedly in the direction of the screen. I chuckle under my breath and set my gaze ahead.
A few minutes later, I risk it and act on my impulse, sifting my fingers through the ends of her hair. I don’t look her way to see her reaction, but she doesn’t stop me. So I can only hope that she’s a fraction of how distracted she makes me.