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I’m skeptical. “I doubt it.”
That grin persists as he studies me. “Well, that creep from last night has been arrested. We don’t have to worry about him anymore.”
I’m taken aback, and my mouth might have dropped open.
“How do you know?”
Cocking his head to the side in an arrogant pose, he says, “On the way back to my dorm, I reported him to the campus police, and when I finally found my dorm, I spotted the asshole in the park again, lingering there like some weirdo.”
“Wait, don’t tell me you stopped him yourself?” Why would he put himself in danger like that?
He grins wider. “You think I want that dick wandering the campus, putting you in danger?”
I blink, unsure how to feel. “You did that for me?”
“Of course.” He leans back, looking pleased with himself. “Now, don’t gush over me too quickly,” he teases.
I’m stunned, unsure of what to say. No one’s ever done anything like that for me or really anything close to looking out for me… well, except for my dad. But as much as I’m touched by his actions, I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts.
“Thank you,” I murmur. “I better get to practice.”
“Yep, I’ll be here later tonight to pick you up.”
As I step out of the car, I can’t help stealing one last glance at Jake. Maybe he’s a tiny bit less of a jerk than I thought he was. Maybe. Then I head to the band.
It’s just after eleven in the evening and practice is finished.
Stepping out of the garage, the roller door rattling upwards, I’m riding a wave of exhilaration. Practice was incredible. The music, the rhythm, was on point tonight. It’s still pulsing through my veins.
“That new song I’m writing, Em, you’re going to make it come to life with your voice,” Trav, our drummer, says enthusiastically. He’s just a bit taller than me, with an easy-going aura that makes him easy to work with. Light brown hair dangles down to his jawline, his eyes are a deep shade of brown, and he’s in his typical black tee and well-worn jeans. Most importantly, he’s a ridiculously talented drummer.
“Can’t wait to try it out,” I say, still buzzing from the night’s practice. Lily, our guitarist, is packing up the last bits.
As we step onto the night curb, cars swooshing past on the nearby main road, my attention is abruptly captured by Jake. Casually leaning against the wall, one leg bent with his foot resting against the bricks behind him, he’s deep in thought, his arms buried in the pockets of his jeans.
My heart beats faster, and fire is heating me up fast at the sight. He looks effortlessly gorgeous under the dim streetlights—hair slightly tousled, giving him that wild edge, his posture a relaxed confidence. The way his shirt hugs his muscles shows his athletic build, and when he turns his head in our direction, there’s a playful smirk on his lips.
Gosh, he’s going to ruin me with those looks.
“You know this guy?” Trev asks, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.
Jake pushes off the wall, closing the distance between us with a few easy strides.
“Hey, I’m Jake,” he introduces himself to Trev, but his attention is all on me. He places a hand on my arm, tugging me gently against him. “I’m Emily’s boyfriend.”
Wait, what did he just say? Groaning, I glare up at him, but he’s smiling and ruffles my hair.
“Oh, why didn’t you tell me?” Trev asks.
“You know Em,” Jake shoves forward with his response. “She’s not one to share things easily.” He stares at me. “We should be off then. I promised your dad I wouldn’t keep you out too late.”
I’m torn, staring at Trev’s confused face.
“Ah… it kinda just happened,” I explain to my friend, forcing a grin. I feel ridiculous for springing something like this on him, especially when, just earlier, we were all chatting about none of us dating anyone. Talk about me sounding like a lying friend.
Trev smiles, though I see the confusion on his face.
“Well, I better head off then.” He gives me a long look that only adds to my guilt over this awkward encounter. He slings his backpack over his shoulder and walks up the street, leaving me standing there with Jake just as the garage roller door comes down.
