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“Why the fuck are you so pissed over a party?”
“Because,” I blurt out, “I helped those girls and they never once mentioned it to me.”
“Sounds like they’re the ones you should be hitting. Not me.”
“Maybe I will,” I mumble.
A couple minutes pass in our silent walk until Lev’s frame fills my line of sight. “Meet me outside your dorm in an hour,” he says before he heads up the walkway toward his dormitory.
My eyes widen and I raise my voice. “Thought you said I couldn’t go with you.”
With a quick glance over his shoulder, he says, “Then you hit me. Now I sort of wanna see how this night plays out.”
I keep walking, biting back on the smile that threatens to spread across my face.
Lev is softening for me. I can feel it in my bones.
CHAPTER25
RILEY
“You haveno idea how glad I am you’re coming,” I tell Scar, who’s sitting cross-legged on her bed folding a week’s worth of laundry that sits next to her. “The thought of going to this party with a bunch of people I barely know terrifies me.”
“Oh, come on, Ry. You know people.”
I skeptically glance at her. “Not well enough to call them friends.”
When I got home a half hour ago, Scar was here and I was so happy to see her. I needed to vent to someone about the Delta Chi girls and this stupid party they left me out of. Needless to say, Scar changed her plans last minute and she’s meeting me out there later.
“Shit,” I panic when I glance at my phone on my end table and see the time, “Lev’s gonna be here soon and I haven’t even gotten ready. What should I wear?”
“Hmm,” Scar taps her chin sarcastically, “a party outside in the dead of fall. How about something warm and not one of those skimpy dresses you like to flaunt your ass in.”
“Ugh,” I grumble. “There is absolutely nothing cute about warm clothes.”
Scar rummages through her overflowing pile of laundry and tosses a pair of jeans at me. I catch them in midair before a hoodie smacks me in the face. “Problem solved,” she says with a satisfied grin.
I hold both articles of clothing up before tossing them back at her. “No thanks.” Then I rummage through my own drawers and decide on a pair of beige leggings, a black crop top, and an oversized black-and-beige checkered flannel. I lay them out on the bed, pleased with my choice. “How’s this with a pair of knee-high boots?”
“Your stomach’s gonna freeze.”
Scar and I are polar opposites when it comes to fashion. She’s more goth, and I’m more chic. Naturally, we like to give each other shit, even though we both look hot as fuck no matter what we wear.
I scoff at her remark. “Such a pessimist.”
“I prefer realist.”
“Either way, it’s a mood killer.”
Twenty minutes later, I’m twirling around to show off my outfit and bouncy curls. “Cute, right?”
“You look great, babe.”
“Thank ya.” I bow. “Now get your ass ready.”
Scar drops back on the bed and grunts. “I’ll be there as soon as I finish this never-ending pile of laundry.”
“Wish I could help you,” I tell her as I look at my phone in my hand. “But Lev’s probably down there now.” I head for the door, stopping in front of it. “See you soon?”
