I bite my lip when he leaves his phone on the desk, remembering the last texts I sent to it.
A searching look appears, like he’s trying to read my mind and connect the dots. He leans on his desk and asks just above a whisper, “Are you ready to be honest with me?”
My gaze shoots away from his, then back, then away again. No, I can’t tell him what or why. I tried that once, and I know how it would go. I couldn’t bear his reaction. The one I got before was already … But from him? No. Humiliation and horror at the mere prospect. Besides, to what end? It couldn’t possibly help, only hurt.
The best I can manage is to hold his gaze and try to communicate without words. It helped once before. I bravely peer into the watchful hazel. I’m closer to him and must have inched forward. Or was that him? I try to explain, to say I’m sorry, to tell him how much I like him, admire him.
He moves his jaw around in his way. “Alright.”
With a big breath he leads me into the hall. The Light Lounge is at the opposite end where I came from. Navigating the chaos at Levi’s side is different than the last time I was on the floor. Some of the guys give off a weird vibe. Last time Levi was the top dog with obvious respect and rowdy approval, but now his reception is split. Some guys walk by slapping his shoulder with a “What’s up, Jeeves,” but a couple only give a halfhearted “Hey,” and one even sneers at him.
I don’t want to be vain, but this feels like my fault. What if they’re knocking him down a peg because of my publicly known refusal to date him? Or because he spends so much of his time with our little friend group when he used to spend it all on the floor? I want to make a scene, kiss him so passionately right here in the hallway that their jaws drop to the floor. How I’d relish every second of it, whether anyone noticed ornot.
But.
It’s always “but” with me now. I squeeze my hands together. I’m not going to squash this down. Just address the reality. The risk—almost promise?—of having a flashback right here in the hallway outweighs the possible reward. Still, maybe a public whisper in his ear could do the trick. I can be brave for him. Drawing so much attention will be nerve wracking, but for him I’ll do it.
Nearly to the lounge, I motion to Levi and face him squarely, blocking out the knowledge that we’re visible to anyone down the entire hall. He grinds to a halt. I grab the zipper sides of his open jacket. Clothes! How have I never thought of this loophole before? Those green-gold eyes widen, sending a rush through my system. His feet move to point toward me as I pull myself up to my toes—parallelelevé… no idea how I have the brain space to think of ballet at a time like this—and lean close to the side of his head. He’s still moving, and my lips brush the bottom of his ear. My body reacts only positively. No fear threatens. Should I do it again? I’m barely tall enough to reach his ear, so I step closer to whisper in it.
I let my lips brush his ear as I speak, sending tingles from my lips to my spine. “You look so good in these shorts.” Was that too much? Am I a hypocrite for complimenting how he looks? I’m barely functioning here. My mind heaves and creaks under the weight of my body’s closeness to his. I come down fromelevé. I’m still holding his jacket and never want to let it go. Can I drag him everywhere with me just like this? Especially if he’ll make that delicious face as I do it.
His eyes are full of thrill, a tiny smile slowly broadening. The hallway is dead quiet, and I glance over to a dozen staring eyes—the original point of this exercise.
Levi’s whisper in my ear jolts me back. “They’re thinking I’m the luckiest guy.” He slides a small step toward me, all affection and playfulness.
We’ll touch if I so much as take a big breath.
I want his breath back in my ear, his cheek next to mine. Iblink too slowly, and I’m sorry to see I dropped his jacket along the way.
He squints, as if to figure me out, and his face falls. “You wanted to help?” he asks, too softly for anyone else to hear.
How did he read my face like that? It’s disquieting.
I push hair behind my ear. Before I have a response, he reaches up and tenderly tucks my hair behind the other ear. My lips part in pleasure. I don’t instinctively recoil. No fear is lurking. His fingers are soothing, warm, blissful. But why? Maybe because Aiden never touched me like that? I can see in his face when he snaps out of his apparent daze and realizes what he’s done.
I beam at him shyly. Oh right, there’s a group of dudes watching. I motion to the Light Lounge and he follows along, speechless.
Austin barrels out.
“Samwise?”
“Skipping the movie. Going to the gym.” He jogs toward their room.
Did I do the right thing, God? I forgot to ask.
College Kit is surprising me.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
When I openthe suite door after classes on Monday, Sophie is standing in our lounge with her hands on her hips.
“Uh-oh,” I say. “It’s the scheming face.”
“Okay, listen. We pull all four mattresses in here and make a sort of trampoline.”
My head tilts back as I laugh.
“That’s a yes!” Sophie starts pushing the furniture to the edges of the room. “And then we can pile on the blankets and pillows and watch a movie. Or moreFresh Prince.”
