I inhale a deep breath and pick up my book bag. My gaze sweeps over them. “I’m avoiding you because there’s no point.”
They both turn to look at me, and I move fast, gliding past Z. I pause in front of him and want to say something, but I can’t. Not here, not now.
I take a step back from Z, annoyed, and Bennett gets a look of triumph on his face until I point my finger at him. “Don’t put your hands on me again.”
Bennett pales. “I’m sorry—”
I don’t even wait for the rest.
I stalk off.
I haven’t gone ten steps when I feel Z next to me, and I don’t make it easy for him. I’m moving at a fast pace, trying to get to class and get myself as far from him as I can. He’s hurt me and seeing Bennett just reminds me of that.
He keeps up, his arm occasionally brushing against mine as we walk together. A couple of guys pass us and call out, “Good game!” and we keep going. We even keep moving when a group of girls shout, “Z!” and waggle their fingers at him while giving me the evil eye.
“Are you going to speak to me?” he finally asks.
I speed up.
“The gardenias? What happened? Talk to me.”
Annoyance boils inside me, but still my lips are clamped shut. Taylor and Poppy are ahead of me, coming my way, and there’s a questioning look in their wide eyes as we pass each other, their gazes bouncing from me to Z. I shake my head at them to not interrupt. I want to have this fight with him, even if I am a silent participant.
We walk a few more paces and he says, “I really can’t read minds, you know.”
My anger rises to the surface, and that’s it. I come to a full stop, not even caring that people are having to move around us. “I’m just so happy to learn I’m not anyone special to you.”
Understanding dawns in his eyes and his lips compress, a hard look growing on his face. “Someone told you something.”
I laugh. “Yes, and it was so nice to discover my gift is one you send to every girl you date—when it’s over.”
His mouth flattens. “Veronica. She’s the only one who would care enough to be mean.”
“So it’s true?”
He frowns, looking discomfited. “Yes, I sometimes send girls roses, but not gardenias, and not when it’s over. I send them whenever I want. Whatever she told you, I’m sure she twisted it to fit her agenda. She’s wanted me for a long time, and I…” He pauses. “But I’ve never in my life gone to a flower shop and picked out exactly the flower that fit a girl, that smell like her.”
He exhales and pinches the bridge of his nose.
Okay, okay, that makes sense, and Veronica does have her own agenda. Even I can see that.
But…
“You haven’t even texted me since we were together…” I stop, my hands clenching.
Don’t be needy, Sugar.
His gaze searches mine. “I know. That night was so… I don’t have words.” He grimaces and looks down at the ground before coming back up to meet my eyes. “I had a game on Saturday, and I just thought maybe I needed some space, you know, a clear head so I could play my best. ”
Well.
Space?
And here I was, thinking about our night and even though I hadn’t really admitted to myself yet, part of me was willing to…I don’t know…see what was going on with us. So stupid. I take off walking again. “Fine. Take some time and process it. I’m done with your bullshit.”
He follows along beside me and several people walk by, staring at us. Even though I’m not looking at him, I feel his unease. It’s in the way he sighs and keeps looking over at me. Whatever.
He keeps up with me, and dammit, he smells so good.
“Look, I was jealous of your daisies, and I wanted to give you something that was more you …” Out of the corner of my eye, I watch as his chest heaves and he stops talking.
I turn. “I don’t even care about that now. Also, I don’t need you to pretend to be my boyfriend anymore.”
His jaw pops. “What about the dean you want to impress?”
“I’ll figure something else out.”
His face shutters, and he looks off, as if what I’m saying isn’t what he wanted to hear. He swallows and looks up at the sky, as if looking for answers.
“Are you upset, Z?”
I need something from him.
He rubs a hand through his hair and his brow pulls down. “Who said I was ever pretending anyway? Go out with me—just me. Not for law school.” His hand reaches out to me but then drops. “Can’t you just give it a shot?”
There’s something in the way he looks at me, hope mixed with fear, as if he’s hanging on a thread, waiting for me to respond.
I shake my head. “You’ve never had to work hard for a girl, have you?”
“No.”
“You just send flowers and everything’s okay. You don’t call and everything just goes back to normal and they jump right back in with you.”
He chews on that bottom lip. “Usually.”
“I’m not that girl.”
“I know.”
“I don’t have sex like that and not expect you to call me. I’m worth more.”
He closes his eyes. “I know. Shit. I’m sorry. I wish I had. I really do. I just…get in a zone when a game comes up. I have to focus…it doesn’t mean I wasn’t thinking about you. I was.”
Somehow we’re standing closer, and I don’t know who came closer, me or him. He reaches up and pulls my scrunchie until my hair spills all around me. He sighs, his eyes roving over me. “Will you at least do one thing for me?”
“What?”
“Come with me. Now.”
My body flares. “Every time you say come with me we end up having sex until I can’t think.”
“The truth is, sex is how I express myself because words don’t always do it for me.” He tugs at a strand of my hair, rubbing it between his fingers. “Come anyway.”
I throw my gaze around the path we’re on, seeing that he’s pulled us over to the side near the trees so our conversation is private. “Why?”
“I want to be alone with you. I—I miss you.”
My gaze flies up to his. “I’m pissed that you didn’t call me. That doesn’t just go away.”
His hand trails down my shoulder and ends at my hand. He laces my fingers with his. “You could have called me too.”
“Nope. And don’t send me flowers again. I don’t care if they’re from some special greenhouse in Antarctica and come with a live penguin. In fact, I think I hate all flowers now.”
“Done.” He tilts my chin up. “Will you come with me?”
“Goddammit, I’m not having sex with you.”
“Okay.”
I sigh. “So what are we going to do?”
A flash of a smile crosses his face. “I’m going to show you how to ice skate. You don’t know jack about hockey and you need to learn.”
“Why?”
“You just do.”
He wants to show me something about him, and I feel myself softening. “I have a class.”