Red's eyes are glassy and dazed, but she is pliant to my directions. Emerging from the study room, acting as natural as one can, I get her set back up at the table she was at before. Her arms don’t seem to work too well, so I open her laptop and tell her to start another practice test, and I’ll be right back.
I pause too long to see her look up at me from under her long dark lashes. Those abused lips are puffy and her red hair is a voluminous mess that makes my heart squeeze.
I’m off like a shot. Still dizzy from coming so hard, I work on not stumbling. I take a lap of the library before grabbing a peppermint tea from the café and returning to Red.
When I get back to Red’s spot, I set it down next to her, but she barely notices, so enrapt in the practice test. Once or twice, she sips from the tea, but her eyes remain on her screen.
I grab the Iliad off a nearby shelf and open it, trying to lose myself in words I’ve savored before.
“Any moment might be our last. Everything is more beautiful because we’re doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again.”
I snap the book shut, not wanting to read stupid romantic trash. Why couldn’t I open it to a battle scene? Now I can't even bring myself to flip over to the Trojan war.
Twenty minutes later, Red turns to me with a triumphant smile. “I did it.”
Looking at her screen, I see she got a 96%. I smile at her lazily. “Told you I could help you.”
I can tell she’s not sure how she feels about my methods, but her glowing response to the score is proof enough it was a great idea.
Even as I revel in the success of my idea, something in me hardens. I am a lone wolf. Attachments mean certain death. I am not in love. I can’t be in love.
But to be sure, I start to shut my emotions down, one by one. Red’s expression shutters into confusion, and I realize she can see I’m changing before her eyes.
“Drink your tea and go home, little Red. I’ll meet you later to take you to work.”
“Oh, okay,” she says, seeming at a loss for the shift in tone.
With that, I bolt.
Staying so close to Red is no longer a viable plan. It’s time I resort to other methods if I plan on finding Grandma.
Chapter25
You don’t like me? I don’t like you
RED
Back at my apartment, I’m riding two waves. Wave number one is sexually satisfied, and psyched beyond measure I actually passed a practice test with relative ease. The second wave is one of confusion. The feelings I’m developing toward the Were are too tender. I’m too invested. Brexley must have seen the earnest feeling on my face because I watched him shut down and make a hasty retreat.
It was all too familiar a response I'd get from Hunter.
I might get away without repeating my academic mistakes, but it seems I’m doomed to repeat the romantic ones.
Screw Brexley. I warned him my feelings get wrapped up easily, and that I can be delusional. That should have been enough to send him running.
Brexley never returned, but hours later when I step out onto the darkened, icy streets, there he is. Brexley shuffles, emerging from the shadows where he leaned against the building. Yet again, he’s changed into fresh clothes, but I never see him carry a bag. Bundled in my coat, I pull it closer around me as if I can cover up my vulnerabilities. Hopefully he just thinks I’m cold.
“I’m going to work,” I announce when he doesn’t say anything.
Instead of answering with a snarky response, he simply nods. We stand there another minute before I start down the sidewalk. He silently walks alongside me. This is getting to be a bad pattern.
He should say something.
I should say something.
But what the fuck does one say?
Hey, it was a really bad idea for us to have a quickie today. Or what we did last night, or. . .
