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“You’re irritating, Ryder. Did you know that?” Ash quips.
He nods calmly.
“And we have to go,” I intervene in the conversation, staring at Bree as I stand from the chair.
Bree looks at her friend.
“Are you going to be fine with him?”
“Please, Bree. He sure messes around a lot, but look at him, he’s a puppy.” Ash doesn’t realize her mistake until Ryder moves his head, smirking.
“Idomess around a lot, doll. But I’m intrigued, is puppy going to be your nickname for me?”
I recognize a trace of flirting on his tone.
This isn’t going to be good.At all.Not if Ryder plans to tap that, and her heart breaks because he can’t commit to a serious relationship. Ash doesn’t seem like the type of girl that likes to fuck around. Her vibes screamcommitmentto the entire world, and Ryder has a lot of issues with that.
We walk away from them, while Bree’s face furrows with concern.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Iwant to go out with you on Saturday.” That’s the first thing that Stanley says when we see each other on Wednesday.
It’s early in the morning, and I’m still sleepy because I stayed up late watching a show with Karma until four. I’m not sure that I heard him right. Tilting my head, I process his words because the drowsy cloud it’s still stuck to my skin, refusing to abandon me. I blink a couple of times, completely lost.
“What?” I question as I frown.
I’m not sure that I understood what he said.
Stanley, like always, looks refreshed as if he didn’t stay awake texting me until two. How can he look so good at eight in the morning? It’s a secret that I won’t find out soon. The only thing that stands out is the light bruise on his jaw, but even with that, he’s absurdly handsome.
It’s insane.
For example, I look like I’ve been using heavy drugs for two months straight.
“You and I go out on Saturday. What do you think?” he says slowly, giving me time to process the words. His green eyes sparkle with hope, making him cuter than he is.
My stomach twirls. Not because I think this is surreal, but because, strangely, he’s asking me with so much time beforehand. Usually, he texts me before he comes over or if I’m in the mood to visit him, which is all new to me.
“As in what?” I interrogate, trying out the field because I don’t want to jump into conclusions and seem desperate.
Is he asking what I think he is, or my brain is creating illusions?
Stanley rolls his eyes.
“A date, Bree. I want to take you on a date,” he clarifies a little higher than our usual whispers in class, catching the attention of a few of our classmates.
He notices that and shrinks on his chair, his face turning red. My heart melts a little with his action.
I don’t care if people start gossiping because the golden boy of Moss University asked me on a date. Very few people know what’s going on between us, and I only care about those. Our classmates have seen us together, and it’s kind of obvious that something is blooming with us. But somehow it creeps me out that people want to invest time in what we do.
“Okay,” I reply, offering him a small smile. “My Saturday is yours.”
A triumphant smile marks his face.
“Thank you.”
“Now, I’m curious to know why you’re asking me with so much time beforehand,” I speak, and curiosity sparks in my system.
