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“Guess who has a date Friday night with a football player?” Harper slid into the seat beside me and started emptying her bag out onto the desk.
I eyed the growing pile of things, and she chuckled. “I’m looking for his number. He gave it to me at the end of my shift last night, and I stuffed it in here and didn’t have time this morning to—found it. Mathieu. He’s from Quebec and has this sexy-as-hell French accent.”
“And where is Mathieu taking you?”
“We haven’t decided yet, but I’m thinking drinks and dancing. Oh hey, you should totally come. I can see if he’s got a friend—”
“I’m good, thanks. But I hope you have fun.”
“Oh, I’m sure we will.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to ask what changed her mind about asking Noah out, but I didn’t. I already felt guilty enough.
I was trying—failing—not to think about him every two seconds, but it was impossible after last night.
I’d told him I was done, and he’d refused to accept it. More than that, he’d given me a piece of himself and trusted me with his secrets.
He’d used the one weapon in his arsenal that I couldn’t defend myself from.
The truth.
Noah didn’t talk about his family—the way Austin and I didn’t talk about ours. But last night, we’d begun to share pieces of ourselves. And although I was supposed to be keeping my wits about me where he was concerned, it felt like we’d begun to lay foundations between us.
I was trying so hard not to read too much into it, but it felt significant, and I’d barely slept replaying our conversation over and over.
“Rory, earth to Aurora.” Harper snapped her fingers in my face, and I jolted out of my thoughts.
“Sorry, I was distracted.”
“I can see that. Everything okay?”
“Fine.”
“So I was thinking… the Lakers have their first game next weekend. It’s only an exhibition game, but I was hoping you might want to come with me.”
“Harper, I’m not sure—”
“Yeah, of course.” Her expression dropped, and guilt churned in my stomach. “It was a crapshoot. I’ll have to go stag or something. Don’t worry about it.”
“Isn’t there anyone from your dorm you can ask?”
“Yeah, maybe.” She suddenly found something on her desk more interesting.
I frowned. “Harper? Is everything okay?”
“Yeah.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “It’s all good.”
Thinking about it, Harper didn’t talk a lot about dorm life. She didn’t really talk much about anything outside of class, her job at the bar, and hockey.
“I’ll go with you.”
“You will? But I thought—”
“You’d do it for me.”
“I would.” She grinned.
“Then consider me in. Go Lakers.” I fist-pumped the air.
