“Where you headed off to?” he asks as he sits down to put his sneakers on.
I stand awkwardly on the other side of the kitchen, by the side door that leads down to the driveway outside.
“To the library. I need to study for my Mandarin course, and unfortunately if I do that here I’ll only end up watching another episode of Succession.”
“I love that show.” His head whips up from his shoelaces. “What season are you on?”
“Halfway through season two,” I tell him, unsure why I opened this door to conversation in the first place.
“Oh, man, such a great show. Fucked-up family, but great show.” He chuckles and shakes his head as he stands and grabs his coat.
“Isn’t everyone’s family fucked up?” I crack the joke, but it sounds too bitter.
I’ve been in a funk since that phone call with my family.
Austin stops in his tracks and turns with his hand on the doorknob. “Actually, yeah.”
We’re too close, and he’s staring at me. The house is too quiet. Something is about to happen, and I duck under his arm and wedge my way out the door. I will not read into things with this guy any longer.
We move toward our cars, and I’m about to open my driver’s side door when Austin stops me.
“You know, I’m trying to avoid studying.” He shuffles a foot on the ground in almost a shy manner.
Shy? Austin Van Hewitt? Who would have thought? It strikes me as a background thought in my mind that I don’t actually know much about the guy’s personality. I only know the larger-than-life hometown celebrity version of him.
He’s not moving toward his car, and I’m too sensitive right now to stand here and do this. I’m not sure what’s wrong with me, but I just don’t feel like doing this.
“Okay? Well, I’m trying to actually do it, which is why I need you to move your car so I can go to the library.”
My voice is pretty bitchy, and I’d like to blame it on the guy leading me on. But he’s not doing that, I’m just the one who feels like he is. Which pisses me off even more.
“Taya, I think that …” Austin seems like he’s going to say something heartfelt because he looks down and glances back up.
And when he does, I can see a million emotions running through those mocha eyes. But that changes, and he extends his hand like he’s trying to make some point. Whether it’s to make a point to himself, or to me, I’m not sure.
“I’d love to spend more time with you. How about I grab us coffees and we go to the library together?”
I’m shocked into silence at the fact that he wants to spend time with me. And suddenly, everything I’ve been trying to tell myself since the morning after the party just evaporates.
Austin will always be that guy for me. The one who can make me weak with one look, who I will throw away all my strength for. We all have that guy, the one who makes us look crazy and desperate and can have us doing headstands when we said we were going to sleep. Each girl has been there in their life, and if you say you haven’t, you’re lying. I’m not certain what power they wield, these guys, but he has it over me, and I can’t say no. Even though I seriously want to.
“Okay. Sure.” I shrug before I know what I’m doing.
He flashes me a smile and holds a finger as if to say, one second.
While he goes to get his backpack and textbooks, I wait in the driveway, hopelessly trying not to read into what is about to happen and make it a coffee and study date with Austin Van Hewitt.
9
Austin
Taya sits across from me at our table on the third floor of the library, and I can’t help but sneak glances up at her every once in a while.
Okay, not every once in a while. It’s more like every millisecond, and I hope she doesn’t notice, but she probably has.
But, Christ, how am I supposed to keep my eyes off her? She’s effortless, with those tight black leggings covering her legs. I couldn’t stop staring at her ass as we walked into the cafe on campus, the library, and then up the stairs to our table. Her hair is loose and down, and she’s wearing these thick-rimmed, cheetah-print glasses she slipped on to study.
I have to stop myself from biting my fist at how fucking sexy she looks in those glasses. Images invade my brain, of me lifting her up and lying her down on the table in front of me. Parting her thighs, coming to settle between them …
Taya clears her throat; she definitely caught me staring at her, and I quickly divert my gaze to the textbook in front of me.
I don’t know what compelled me to ask her for coffee instead of just moving my car. She’d come into my room so sullen, almost like she didn’t want to be there. The attitude shift I’d seen in her since that morning in the kitchen after that party was a big contrast from the flirty vibes she’d been giving me before.
And I haven’t stopped thinking about her over the past couple of days. I thought I would have since I was turned off by what she said. But the next morning, in the kitchen, my curiosity about Taya North just ignited once more when I overheard her brief conversation with her friends.
So I made a split-second decision and am not regretting it one bit. First, we’d gone to the Rat, the cafe on campus, to get coffees. As we waited in line, I asked Taya about her favorite thing to get. A caramel latte and a pumpkin scone. So I bought her those, and she blushed so hard while quietly thanking me that I think my curiosity turned straight into being enamored.
The drive to and from the house to the cafe and the cafe to the library was spent arguing over music. Taya is a strict hip-hop enthusiast, while I prefer country and classic rock. We agreed that The Beatles are untouchable and that a good Drake song will overrule all else. I can’t help but smile as I sit here, because I haven’t had a conversation quite like that with a girl in a while.
It’s not like I really need to study. Honestly, I was barely doing it at home and I haven’t been to the library since freshman year. I’m one of those people who works worse in here than I do in my bed, in my room.
But it’s like I can’t help myself. So here I am, sitting in the library, pretending to study for a test I don’t have, and not-so-secretly creeping on Taya.
“So, Mandarin? That’s a hard language, no?” I ask, trying to get the conversation going.
It takes her a minute to look up from the notebook she’s writing in, her eyes slowly sweeping to connect to mine. “Uh-huh. It’s definitely not as easy as other ones.”
“Say something to me,” I challenge her, leaning forward on my elbows.
She taps a red polished finger to her chin. The color reminds of the dress she wore to the party the other night.
“Wǒ xǐhuān nǐ de yǎnjīng de yánsè.”
I’m utterly impressed with her pronunciation. I can barely speak English on the radio most days.
“And what does that mean?” I can’t stop staring at the corner of her mouth that her tongue just darted out to wet.
“See now, why would I tell you that?” She winks, and my balls tighten with flirty anticipation.
I sip my coffee and watch as she stares at the way my Adam’s apple bobs when I swallow. “I think you said that you think I’m the hottest guy in here.”