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He counters my move, helping me gather everything before responding.
"Quiet. Boring. Well, not entirely boring."
"Oh yeah? What was the highlight?" We're standing face to face again, eyes locked. My back is pressed against the shelves lined from floor to ceiling with textbooks. There are students crowding around us, attempting to gather the last of what they need before classes start next week. A guy grumbles as he reaches above my head, almost hitting me with the book he selects as he pulls it from the shelf.
Neither of us move. Neither of us look away.
"Lots of hookups. Lots of secrets exposed."
"Drama in your tight little group. That's surprising."
"Finn and Willow. Max was pissed. Declan and Kendall, but I'm sure you already heard about that." I had, but it wasn't my place to say anything. Kendall is a Zeta sister. Her business is her own. We don't share secrets outside the house. And it wasn't Kendall who told us. It was her twin sister, Kora. "Then baby Graham, Micah, hooked up with Alexis, the shy one."
"And who did you hook up with?"
I hear myself ask the question, the words leaving my mouth before I can stop them. He doesn't owe me an answer, it's none of my business, and honestly, I don't want to know who he's been screwing all summer. I have enough mystery women to be jealous of. I don't need to add another to my list.
Brady shakes his head, a smirk on his face, as he takes the stack of books from my hands and walks away. Following him like a lost puppy—what else could I really do? He has my books—I enjoy the view of his ass in the tight jeans he put on this morning. It's a short-lived sight.
Stacking my books on the counter, he steps aside, leaning his back against a nearby rack. Brady waits as the cashier scans my books, gives me the outrageous total, and runs my credit card.
"Didn't you need anything?" I ask as I wait for my receipt.
"No. I was checking to see if the last book I need was in stock yet. No such luck."
The handles of the plastic bag my books are in stretches as I lift it off the counter. There's no way they'll hold up all the way back to the house. It's only a seven-minute walk, but these bags were not designed to accommodate this much weight.
Brady and I exit the bookstore in silence, him following behind me as I weave my way through the growing crowd of students. Once we're outside, I smile at Brady over my shoulder and thank him for his help. I turn away from the parking lot, adjusting the bag that's already threatening to give out, cradling it like a baby instead of carrying it at my side.
"Where are you going?" Brady asks, falling in step with me.
"Back to the house."
"And you're walking?"
"Yeah. My car was blocked in this morning."
"Want a ride?"
On his bike? The thought causes my heart to stutter in my chest, my feet faltering at the same moment. Brady catches me before I hit the ground, my books scattering across the sidewalk. The first thing I notice is the giant rip in the side of the thin plastic bag.
"Damn it," I mutter under my breath as I begin picking them up, making a stack in my arms.
Brady picks up the worthless bag, walking over and depositing it in a trashcan. "Did you just curse?"
"Maybe."
There's a hint of a smile on his face. As it slowly begins to spread, a tingling sensation works its way through my body. That damn smirk does things to me it shouldn't. Not that I'm alone in this. I'm sure all women have the same reaction to the look he's given me.
"Come on." He turns, motioning for me to follow.
"Where are you going?" My feet remain rooted in place as I stare after him. When he realizes I'm not following him, he turns back, closes the distance between us, and takes the books from my hand.
"I'm giving you a ride home."
"On your motorcycle?"
"Yes."
