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I blink, and then a short, abrupt noise bursts out of me. A snort, I think. Eyes wide, I shake my head. “No.” I dip my head shyly. “Well, sort of, but like…it’s true. It’s a fact. I just…I have this thing. With names and meanings.”
Nolan’s brows pull together, almost like he’s pissed off. Or maybe disturbed. It should probably worry me—it wouldn’t be the first time I got a look like that. One that’s usually accompanied by abrasive words, mocking laughter…maybe even fists.
But for some reason, it just feels…different with him. I can’t explain it.
“And you just…memorize them? All of them?”
Chewing the inside of my lip, I shrug. “As many as I can. But first names only though.” I shake my head with a quiet huff. “Last names are a little more complicated—most are hybrids of all different sorts of meanings, etymologies, and they’re not unique to a person, so it doesn’t really give me anything to work with.”
“Yeah…” he says slowly.
I wince. “I know. It’s weird.”
“Yeah, little bit,” he says slowly.
Blinking into a frown, I eye him curiously—cautiously—waiting for the other shoe to drop. The one made of cruel barbs and cutting scorn. That or for him to stand up, wave me off, and tell Kevin he refuses to be partnered up with a freak.
But it never comes.
“I’m Skyler,” I blurt loudly…too loudly.
Nolan’s brows raise. “Let me guess. Your name means sky.”
My gaze dips to his shoulder, where a thin gray cotton tee covers the tattoo I spotted yesterday.
A small smile tweaks my lips.He has the night sky inked in his skin.
“No,” I hear myself say, quietly this time, almost a whisper. “Surprisingly enough, it actually means scholar.”
He grunts and I lift my gaze, flushing, waiting for him to either make some snide remark or give me a hard time for ogling his body like I did yesterday.
It upset him, me staring at him. I could tell that much. He didn’t like it when I looked at him. “Typical,”he’d said, and something about that harshly spit-out word felt more hurtful than if he had just ignored me and kept walking.
“Yeah, I uh, know,” I manage to stumble out quietly, shaking off the memory. “Not very accurate. Parents really messed it up with that one.”
Set for failure from the start…
A long moment passes before he says, “What makes you say that?” There’s something in the way he asks it, like he doesn’t actually want to be asking me, but feels like he needs to. I wonder why he even bothers.
Still, I find myself answering, “Well, for one, a scholar is someone who takes learning very seriously, and is probably really intelligent.” His frown deepens, almost like he knows what I have to say about that, and for whatever reason doesn’t like it, so I quickly move on, ignoring the little flutter of nerves in my belly. “And two, scholar also implies things like college and universities. I turned eighteen two weeks ago and ended up in rehab instead, so…” I trail off with a little shrug.
Another grunt.
Is that…a laugh?
He’s tougher to read than most. Maybe it’s the beard. It’s not super thick, but enough scruff to cover the lower half of his face, giving him a rugged, devil-may-care look about him. His lips are full though, not hidden. So maybe if he actually tried to smile, it’d lighten him up.
But maybe not.
There’s just something veryrawrabout him.
“Did you just growl?”
“What? No.” My cheeks heat.
His gaze dances around my face with a look of concern.
“How old are you?” I blurt, my voice cracking.
