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“Oh, sorry. Next time I’ll make sure to not get one for you.” He smirks, and my stomach flutters hearing him talk about the next time. “So how’d you get all the wine you snuck into the hot tub?”
Something between a laugh and a sigh comes out. I guess we weren’t as sneaky as we thought. “All my friends are already 21. My best friend, Avery, has been since the beginning of summer.”
“Which one was she?”
“Long, dark brown hair. The bombshell of our group, she’s hard to miss.” There’s no jealousy in my words, it’s just the truth that my best friend is gorgeous.
“Hmm. I didn’t notice.” His gaze meets mine for a moment, and my stomach flutters again. I’m not the best at accepting compliments, if that’s what that was. I hope that is what it was. “Have you been friends for a while? Didn’t you say you grew up in Albany?”
“Yeah, since we were 12. We both grew up there. She’s practically my sister, and my parents treat her that way too. It’s great.”
“Old friends are the best.”
“Yeah, they are. Avery is the only one I’m close with from before college, but she’s more than enough for me. I bet you have a lot of friends around since you grew up here?”
“People who are raised here tend to stay, so it helps. You know Marcus and Aden. Practically everyone I attended high school with is still around too. Also had all the same neighbors forever.”
“What happens if you want to escape someone?” I laugh. I’m not someone who runs into people they know every time they go to the grocery store, so I can only imagine what that must be like.
“Short of running away, I’m not sure.” His tone is playful, but his eyes tell a different story I wish I could ask about.
“I like to run!” I’m trying to be funny, but it’s also true.
“Is that so?” It looks like I’ve piqued his curiosity.
“Yeah, I joined the running club at school this year. I kept putting it off without the accountability.”
“Makes all the difference.”
“I guess not, considering I was supposed to go this morning.”
“I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not.” He shrugs and glances back to his menu.
I shove playfully on his shoulder. “Hey!”
“Okay, fine, a little. You could have gone.”
I’ve been enjoying the running club and everyone is nice enough, but I haven’t bonded with anyone in particular yet. “I’d rather be here.”
His gaze meets mine as Joy’s bubbly self graces us with her presence again.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Thankgoodnessthisstatisticsclass is easier than I thought it would be. Sometimes Carley and I get together to study, but mostly for the company. I’ve been able to get through the class on my own. I’m working on my stats homework right now, in between my Monday classes, sitting at one of the outdoor picnic tables in the middle of campus. It’s as chilly as you’d expect for the middle of November, but I can’t help but want to be outside if the sun is out. Based on how quiet it is around me, it appears I’m the only one who feels that way. I’m not a fan of being cold, but sometimes the view and the fresh air is worth it.
Our campus is covered in open fields, grass the perfect shade of green. Every walkway is lined with trees, and each building is surrounded by them. The leaves have been transforming to beautiful shades of orange and yellow over the past few weeks. They are finally starting to fall to the ground, taking over the paths to class, regardless of how many times the groundskeeper tries to clear them. It’s absolutely beautiful and not worth missing, even if it means suffering in the cold. I also just love the smell of it here, like fresh air and trees. It reminds me of Dean and the way he smells if you added a campfire to it. Although I’m not sure yet if that part of his sweatshirt smell came from him or an actual fire.
I haven’t heard from Dean since he took me to breakfast on Friday morning after our sleepover. I texted him on Saturday to say hi, but he never responded. I’m proud of myself for not texting again as much as I wanted to. Popping my airpods in my ears, I push play on one of my Spotify playlists and try to push away the insecurity not hearing from him makes me feel by focusing on the math problem in front of me.
The sway in my body to my music freezes when hands land on my shoulders. What the. I tip my head until I see him.
Dean.
He squeezes his hands a little tighter before taking a seat next to me, straddling the bench of the green metal table. He’s so close that one knee rests against my back, the other touching my thigh, his hands pressed into the small space between his legs. I turn to face him, pulling out my earbuds.
“Umm, hey.”
“What’s up, Jackson!” He picks up one of my earbuds and puts it in his ear. The song I was listening to just ended, so I’m not sure what’s playing, but he eyes me like he’s trying to read me through my music choice. Either that or he’s waiting for an answer to his question.
