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Pulling open the door to the small coffee shop, the bell jingles overhead. You’d think I had a horn sticking out of my forehead with the way everyone looks at me. I don't come here often since the student center also has coffee, but I’m no stranger to the place.
The majority of the girls here are Delta Chi girls. Thankfully, Melody isn’t one of them. This might be a good opportunity to talk to Carly, the president of the sorority, about joining the decorating committee. While she’s intimidating with her seniority at BCU, paired with her gorgeous looks—I’m talking drop-dead gorgeous, sleek blonde hair that rests in the middle of her back, saucer blue eyes, and legs for days—she’s always been super kind, so I’m only slightly nervous.
“Hey, Carly.” I lift my hand in an awkward wave. The other two girls at her table lift their heads, giving me the impression they’re not thrilled with me interrupting them. Carly smiles widely, showing her paper-white teeth.
“Oh, hi,” she says, her southern accent thick. “Y'all, this is…Ryder. We met during the freshman welcome party.”
“Actually, it’s Riley. But yes, we did meet. I’m surprised you remember.”
“Of course I remember. How can I forget that stunning streak of purple in your hair?”
For some reason, my fingers find the streak and I twirl it around my finger like a jittery schoolgirl. “Thanks. I was gonna do pink. Then blue. And somehow settled on purple. Anyways,” my tone shifts to a higher note, “enough about me. I actually wanted to know if you need help with any of the decorating around campus for Halloween? I was always super involved in my previous schools and I’d love to give a helping hand.” I draw in a deep breath, refilling my lungs. Oh my god, how am I still standing after that? I don’t think I took a single breath.
Carly shares a look with her friends, who force fake smiles and shrug their shoulders.
“Um. Yeah,” she chirps. “We don’t usually get offers like this, but sure. We’ll take all the help we can get.” Her hand shields her mouth as she whisper-laughs. “Some of the new girls are a little lazy, if you know what I mean.”
“Oh, I’m sure. There’s always a few bad eggs in the bunch.” A really weird, awkward sound that I think is a laugh climbs up my throat. Why am I making this more tortuous than it needs to be?
“Great. Sunday we’ll be getting together in the meeting room at the football stadium. Three o’clock.”
“I’ll be there.” I shoot her a thumbs-up and literally want to bite the stupid digit off. I stick it back down quickly, then turn around and head straight for the counter.
Nice one, Riley. I’m sure they’re thrilled to have you help, you awkward idiot.
After ordering a mocha latte, I take one of the stools at the counter at the end, leaving an empty seat for Maddox.
Five minutes in, and I’ve already downed the entire thing.
I spin around on the stool, looking at the door as if I expect him to suddenly walk in. When he doesn’t, I tip my cup back, hoping for one more drop. Now I feel like a dumbass, just sitting here alone with nothing to drink. So, I flag the student barista down. “Could I get another mocha latte, please?”
“Sure thing. For here or to-go?”
“Here, please.” I slide her my student card to pay for my second cup. She leaves it sitting there until she returns with my coffee.
I bring the cup to my mouth, sucking in some of the whipped cream, when someone pulls out the stool beside me. At first I assume it’s Maddox. But before I even get a look, his scent hits me.
I set my mug down on the counter and swivel in my stool to face him. “Why are you here? Where’s Maddox?”
An audible growl escapes him and his hands fold together, landing on the countertop with a thud. Neck twisted, he glowers at me, as if I’m the one who’s done something wrong.
“Well? Cat got your tongue?”
It’s cruel, but for the love of all that is mighty, this guy is fucking creeping me out.
I grab my card off the table and stuff it back into my bag, not bothering to search for my wallet. I just need to keep my hands busy, so I don’t slap him in front of all these people.
“You know what?” My legs fling over the opposite side, and I stand up. “Fuck you,” I deadpan, eyes on the barista who’s coming my way. I hold up my half-empty coffee mug. “Can I get this in a to-go cup, please?”
In two seconds flat, Ridge is at my side all crazy-eyed and weird. His hand reaches toward my face, but I swat it down. “Don’t touch me. I told you to stay away from me.”
His fingers tangle around my wrist, squeezing hard, and humiliation flushes my entire body with heat when I see the Delta Chi girls watching.
Their eyes are full of panic as they whisper. Probably something like, ‘Is that her boyfriend? Should we help her?’
I try to pull away, gritting my teeth while remaining calm as not to pull more attention from those around us. “Let me go.”
He doesn’t. Instead, he uses his other hand to sweep his finger across my nose. When he holds it up, there’s a dollop of whipped cream on the tip of his index finger. I cringe when he slides it into his mouth and sucks it off.
