I pull some Chapstick out of my bag and swipe the cherry balm over my lips and pop in a piece of gum as I enter the elevator and begin to descend to the lobby.
I make my way out of the elevator and into the massive lobby and nod at the guard before making my way towards the door. “Gabrielle!” I hear just before I get to the door and turn to see Miles Carson, a junior in one of my business classes, coming towards me. He’s wearing a Columbia lacrosse hoodie and a pair of sweatpants that really doesn’t do much to hide what he’s got going on underneath. I avert my eyes instantly and feel the embarrassment creeping up my neck; I hope it’s not one of the few times you can see a faint blush tinting my cheeks.
“Hey, Miles.” I wave. Miles looks like Zach Morris from Saved by the Bell if he spent way more time at the gym and less time fighting with Slater and half the guys at Bayside over Kelly Capowski. So yeah, in short, he’s hot—and evidently packing.
Seriously inappropriate crush on my brother aside, of course, the man is fine. Annoyingly enough though, he knows it.
“How do you still look gorgeous after spending God knows how long in the library?”
I shrug and pull my Moncler coat tighter around me. “That’s sweet. You have a final tomorrow too?”
“At eight-thirty in the morning. Kill me now.”
“I’m sure you’ll do amazing,” I tell him. I wouldn’t exactly call us friends. We worked on a group project together earlier in the semester and I tutored him for a few weeks so maybe he feels like flirting with the nerdy black girl is his way of saying thank you. I don’t really care either way.
“Are you heading back home tomorrow?” he asks, and I kind of want to wrap up this conversation because the anticipation of seeing James is giving me that tingling feeling that makes me high. “Because we’re throwing a party at the house. You should come by. I’ll get you a house cup.” He smiles. I’ve learned having a house cup is a very big deal. Basically, I won’t have to wait in line for a drink all night. It’s also usually a sign that the person is sleeping with or dating whoever provided such a cup and since I do neither with Miles, I have to politely decline.
“Yeah, I’m leaving right after,” I lie. Truth is, I’m crashing at James’ place tomorrow night and we’re going to drive home together Saturday morning.
“Damn, well maybe next time.” He pulls me into a hug and I reciprocate because I’m a hugger and it feels harmless enough. But the murderous glare I see my brother giving us out of the corner of my eye as he moves towards us has me second guessing myself.
“J? I…” I start, wondering why he isn’t still waiting outside.
“You were taking too long and I got worried.” He sizes up Miles and nods at him before turning towards me. “Who’s your friend?”
“James.” I roll my eyes and look at Miles who’s looking at my brother with an equally bothered expression. “Miles, this is my brother James.”
He looks back and forth between us in what I’m guessing is confusion, or at very least curiosity, and waiting for someone to continue. “Oh, so kind of like how girls say ‘he’s like my brother?’” He chuckles.
“No, dumbass, like we have the same mother and father,” James grits out and I realize what Miles is thinking right now and I’m a little annoyed he can’t just draw the conclusion on his own.
“I’m adopted,” I say and Miles nods.
“Ah, okay. Right.”
“What, you don’t see the family resemblance?” James sneers and I elbow him in his ribs.
“I’ll see you next semester, Gab,” Miles says awkwardly before leaning down and hugging me again. He’s well over six feet to my five-foot-four, so he towers over me just as James does. He’s out the door without so much as another glance back and I turn my annoyed eyes to James.
“Really? Why do you have to be like that?”
“Like what? An overprotective brother looking out for his sister? The guy is a douche, Gab.” He rolls his blue eyes and runs a hand through his dark brown hair. He has a dusting of facial hair along his sharp jaw and I note that it’s a little longer than usual.
“You talked to him for like four seconds!” I say as he grabs my backpack and laptop to carry and follows me out of the library into the blistering cold New York air. Flurries of snow begin to pepper the sidewalk and I hope we’re not in for a mountain of snow until we’re able to make it home. “Fuck, it’s freezing,” I say pulling my gloves out of my pocket and sliding them on.
“And in those four seconds, he spent two of them trying to pry his foot out of his mouth. You like that joker?”
“I have one class with him, James, and I’ve worked with him on a few projects. But no, I don’t like him. I don’t like anyone.” Except you, my mind adds and I’m grateful to see his black BMW sitting double parked outside of the library.
I skip over towards it and frown when I realize it’s locked. “Open!” I yell and he moves past me, pushing me gently out of the way and opens the door for me. “Always such a gentleman.”
“For you? Always.” He smirks and I narrow my eyes curiously as he makes his way around the car. Was that flirting?
He gets in the car and turns my seat warmer before pulling my hands between his, rubbing them to warm them. “I think it’s supposed to snow really bad this weekend, but we should get out before then. I’m monitoring the weather.”
I nod just as a sexy thought floats through my mind about being stranded in New York in James’ penthouse all alone for the foreseeable future. I swallow at the thought of losing my virginity in front of a roaring fire as snow pours just outside the window. My parents wouldn’t worry because I’m with my very protective and responsible older brother.
Not happening, Gabrielle.
“Have you talked to Monica?” I ask, wondering if my older sister will have any trouble getting home from Boston. She was in her final year of medical school at Harvard—we’re a family of overachievers, and she is actually coming home for the first time this year. I’d gone to visit her once or twice over the summer but it’s been at least five months since I’ve seen her, not counting FaceTimes. I miss her so much and I can’t wait to hug her.
“This morning. Her train is still on time and Dad is going to pick her up tomorrow, I think. Their storm is due to start a little earlier.”
“Christmas is in six days; I can’t believe she’s coming home this early.”
“I can’t believe she’s stuck it out this long.” He chuckles as we zoom through the somewhat empty New York streets. It’s late and most students have either left for the semester, are studying or partying, making the streets a little less congested than usual. We make it to his building in about five minutes and he pulls into the garage beneath. “You still remember my codes?” he asks me as he moves into the garage and the gate closes behind us.
“How could I forget? It’s my birthday,” I tell him and something spikes in my heart at the memory.
He parks in his usual spot and grabs his briefcase and what I assume to be a gym bag out of the back before grabbing my things as well, then ushers me into the waiting area for the elevators.