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“How is your mum?”
“Good.” I smile, hoping he doesn’t see the nervous twitch in my eye. My mum doesn’t exactly know about Logan still attending the university. She presumed he finished last term and I didn’t tell her otherwise. I don’t think she would have let me attend this university had she known. She would have demanded to come with me. She doesn’t like him—not one bit. As far as she knows, Logan and I don’t speak.
Since Mum and Allie’s parents fell out with Logan’s, my mum started disliking him too. She demanded I never see him and to stop hanging around with him, and at first, I didn’t listen. But then, as time went by, I just made her think I never spoke to him. I did, but she didn’t need to know that. Plus, she worked loads so she never knew any different.
“I’m surprised she let you attend the same uni as me,” he comments, saying what I am thinking. He knows my mum has a strong dislike for him.
“She’s not that bad,” I lie, and quickly change the subject. “So, do you want to hang out after, come shopping with me and Allie?”
“How about I come over tonight? I’ll bring a takeaway and a movie.”
“Yeah, okay. Nothing gory though,” I remind him, giving him a warning look.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, babe.” I want to smack this ‘babe’ shit out of him, but I let it lie. I don’t want any more drama, so I finish my breakfast in silence.
Now all I have to do is make things right with Alec. One thing is for sure: I’m not running to him to apologise. He can come to me. I just hope he’s not stubborn enough to let my friendship with Logan come betweenourrelationship. I thought I meant more to him than that.
We finish breakfast, talking about places around the university and other random topics. We stay for a while longer, catching up like old times, before he drives me back home, where we say goodbye.
CHAPTER THREE
After Logan dropped me off at the flat yesterday, I went straight back to my room and slept most of the day.
I woke up in the afternoon to a message from Logan cancelling our movie plans, saying he’ll reschedule.
Alec didn’t call or text. I must have checked my phone at least a dozen times to see if he messaged, even going so far as to get Allie to send me texts, just to make sure my phone was working. When he still hadn’t called or text me by midnight, my control snapped. I ended up sending him a message, explaining that Logan and I were just friends, and I was sorry.
Since I woke up feeling miserable, I made Allie skip our shopping trip. We opted to stay in and order food. She picked up a few essentials at a local corner shop on her way home yesterday, so it wasn’t like we were desperate. But today, shopping was unavoidable. I needed chocolate, Allie needed her sweets, and we needed food in, which is how we ended up in the predicament we’re in right now, lugging a million carrier bags full of shopping up eight flights of stairs.
“Really? The lift breaks down today of all days,” Allie huffs, blowing a strand of hair out of her face.
I stop and drop all the bags on the floor gently, shaking my aching hands out. They’re red raw from the plastic handles digging into my skin.
“I know,” I puff out, hating how unfit I feel right now. We’re only on the third floor, which makes it that much worse. “They should have fitted an electric chair for backup,” I joke, but once I’ve said it, I realise how much of a good idea it sounds.
A boisterous, male laugh echoes up the stairwell. Allie and I look at each other with horrified eyes before bursting into a fit of giggles. We both look a mess from carrying the bags from the car park and up three flights of stairs. It doesn’t help that when we threw clothes on, we didn’t care what it was as long as it got us ready quicker to get some food. I threw my hair up in a messy bun, not bothering to do anything else with it. I can leave the house most days wearing anything and it doesn’t bother me, but I can never leave without putting my face on and brushing my hair. I guess with everything going on, it’s made me feel depressed enough not to care.
“Great. We’re going to get murdered looking like scarecrows,” Allie whispers, holding back laughter.
“It was bound to happen. Death by flat stairwell,” I say dramatically.
Grabbing my bags and feeling exhausted, my mind gets lost in a world of imagination as I pretend I’m a witch so I can magically click my fingers and make our bags disappear to our kitchen. My abnormal thoughts are interrupted when a voice from behind causes me to jump.
“Well hellooooo. We meet again,” a husky voice says. Allie’s body visibly stiffens next to me when she realises who it is. I smile, turning around to face our neighbour, whose eyes are locked on Allie’s arse.
Typical lad.
My grin falters a little when I see he isn’t alone. Cole is with him, his blue eyes narrowed on the bags I’m struggling to hold in my hands. I almost take a step back when he steps forward, a determined expression on his face, but I hold my own, keeping my gaze on him no matter how hard it is to do.
My mouth hangs open as he takes the carrier bags off me with a gentleness I didn’t expect from the big brute. My skin tingles from his touch, and I have to bite my lip to stop myself from making a sound.
“Thanks,” I choke out on a whisper, feeling my cheeks heat. I’m actually starting to thinkhe’sa witch and has put some kind of spell on me. Well, a wizard. It would explain why my body reacts to him when I’m around him.
“It’s okay,” he rumbles and turns his head towards his friend. I find myself turning with him. CJ has taken Allie’s bags from her, leaving her with her mouth hanging open. From the neck up, she has gone completely red. I have to bite the inside of my mouth to stop myself from laughing out loud. She looks ready to run up the stairs and lock herself inside her room until it’s safe to come out. I think the only thing stopping her is the effort it would take to run up the stairs and the exhaustion she’ll feel afterwards.
“Well, at least we know we’re getting fed this week, huh, Cole,” CJ chuckles, starting his way up the stairwell.
“Don’t expect me to do the cooking,” I scoff, walking beside Cole, enjoying the way his arms flex from the weight of the shopping bags. The guy is too good looking for his own good. He has everything going for him.
