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And his cock, which bulged even though he probably wasn’t even fucking hard. The guy was just big everywhere and those tight-as-fuck jeans outlined what he had.
My face heated at being caught looking, and Thatcher smiled behind his cup. That little smirk he did pouted his full lips and never ceased to tickle me in places I definitely didn’t want to be tickled. My draw to him was confusing because I wasn’t sure it just surrounded how he looked. I mean, he was fucking hot, but I hadn’t even seen his face in the club.
Yeah, it was confusing.
“Breakfast sandwiches,” he said, surprisingly not putting me on blast for staring at, well, his cock. He lifted the bag. “I got a plant-based one and a meat one. Again, I was playing it safe.”
I didn’t take the food like the coffee. Instead, I closed my door and locked it. “Okay…”
“Good morning, Miss Davis.” My security dude, Phil, approached from his own room across the hall. He walked me to class every day, and since I’d blown my cover, there wasn’t a point to him blending in anymore. He wore his dark suit like he did every day now, and upon seeing Thatcher, he nodded. “Good morning, Mr. Reed. Didn’t expect to see you today.”
I didn’t either, and of course, he knew Thatcher. Phil was employed by Thatcher’s dad’s company.
“Clearly, Miss Davis didn’t know either,” Thatcher teased, then flashed me a wink over his big shoulder. It made my knees go weak, and I cursed at myself just like that guy had who tripped. Thatcher angled around. “I’ve come to walk you to class. That is, if you’ll have me.”
Well, color me fucking shocked. “Um…”
“We are friends, right?” He angled close, again his voice teasing. “Well, I walk my friends to class sometimes. Our first classes also happen to be close by, so I figured why not. We walk, and we have breakfast.”
He lifted his grub, and the proposal was sweet. Like really freaking sweet.
You did tell him you wanted to be friends.
I didn’t know why I said that in his kitchen. Thatcher and I were the last thing that could be considered friends, but looking back, I think the proposal had been a defense mechanism. I’d felt for him and his situation with his grandma, and I’d reacted.
I’d friend-zoned him.
I didn’t want to feel anything for Thatcher, and though I may sympathize with him, I didn’t want to want him. Friends felt like something easier, but that friendship was just supposed to be a formality. Something on paper and not real. It was a way for him (and me) to stay away from each other.
We needed to stay away from each other.
Thatcher and I had something weird going on, and though all this today seemed sweet, I couldn’t help but question his angle. He had to know I hadn’t really meant what I said, right? At least, not in the way that we’d be hanging out.
“Snowflake?”
I blinked out of my thoughts.
Thatcher grinned. “Come on. You’re going to make us both late for class.”
I think I decided to go in the end because I had security as a buffer. I didn’t think Thatcher would try something, but with Phil being there, nothing weird could happen anyway. Weird being Thatcher and I losing our minds and playing predator/prey in the woods again.
Yeah, I looked that up after we fooled around. It’d been hot what we’d done, and I’d been curious about it.
God, he got me crazy.
He had, and that made him dangerous for me. I’d turned into someone else, and though that someone else was exciting, I wasn’t sure it was healthy to give in to it. Healthy for me anyway.
The walk to class was surprisingly quick, and Thatcher had good taste in breakfast sandwiches. I chose the plant-based one since I heard my mom’s voice about diet in my head, and I ate while Thatcher did all the talking. He definitely liked to talk, and his charisma didn’t just ooze in the bedroom.
He was actually funny. Genuinely so, and I was surprised that I was sad when we arrived at my class. I was sad our walk was so short-lived, and I thought he’d linger for a second after it was over, that he’d try something but he didn’t.
“Good breakfast, snowflake,” he said, balling up our trash. He tossed a wrapper at my head, and I was in such shock that I laughed. I mean, he tossed a wrapper at me like we were friends and he was being funny. He eyed it on the ground. “I’d pick that up, snow. Don’t want anyone thinking you’re a litter bug.”
So he totally tossed that at me. I picked it up, throwing it at him, and he dodged in the way a football player did on the field. I guessed he did play football. He told me that, and from what I heard, he and his friends were pretty fucking good. People around here called them Legacy because of their families’ influence on the school.
Thatcher backed up in his boots. “See you around. Have fun.”
And then, he was gone, leaving Phil and me in the hallway.
