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ME: Stuck on campus. Start without me. I'll try to make it over later.
LO: Kendall is still on campus. Want her to pick you up @Lex?
LEX: Please.
KENDALL: Meet me out front. I'll be at your dorm in five. Do we still need snacks, @Lo?
I watch as my friends message each other back and forth, my absence not affecting tonight’s events in the slightest. Which only adds to the feeling of being outcast and alone. They'll probably spend their night talking about the guys instead of studying. Something that I wouldn't be a part of anyway.
"All good?" Julian asks after a few minutes.
"Yeah."
"You sound sad," he points out as he untucks his shirt, the motion drawing my attention to the waist of his jeans. They hang low on his hips, the band of his briefs visible, and that's not all.
"No," I mumble, my eyes trained on the sliver of bronzed skin dusted with black hair.
"Piper," he calls, lifting the hem of his shirt to reveal another one beneath it. I hear him say my name a second time, but I can't pull my attention away from that sliver of skin.
Until it disappears.
And when I finally look up, Julian has changed out of his polo shirt with the restaurant's logo stitched over his left breast and into a dark gray chef coat with a matching emblem.
And for some reason, he looks even more handsome than he normally does.
For the nexttwo hours I work the sauté station with Julian over my shoulder, walking me through each dish step by step. I'm so focused on how close he's standing to me, I don't retain any information. Every time his arm brushes mine, I wouldn't have been surprised if I'd forgotten my damn name.
If anyone had asked, that is.
Because no one did.
I stepped on the cook’s line, and not one single person even spared me a second glance. I was swimming in the chef coat Julian loaned me. I had the sleeves rolled up past my elbows, but that didn't solve the issue of how long it was on me. It hung down to my knees.
Which was good considering I was wearing my favorite pair of jeans and with how much I spilled, they would have been ruined otherwise. The chef coat and apron took the brunt of the mess.
"You did good tonight," Julian says as I begin unbuttoning the monstrosity.
"Thanks. I'm not going to lie. It was a little intimidating being up there with those guys. I felt out of place."
"The more you do it, the more comfortable you'll get." His words are assuring, but I'm not here to learn how to cook the food. I'm here to improve the health value of it. And after tonight, I have a good starting point. "You headed to Lo's place?"
Checking the time on my phone as I toss the chef coat in a nearby bin, I take note of the hour. I could head over there and visit with my friends. With that visit would be a barrage of questions.
Where was I?
Why was I on campus so late?
And more than likely, why did I smell like food?
All questions I would have to answer with a lie. And when I lie to them, I know I'm also lying to myself.
Because I'd tell them I was happy to see them when my mind would be miles away.
I'd say I was sorry I was late when in actuality, I'm glad I stayed here.
"Maybe."
"Tell the girls I say hi if you do."
