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My stride is brisk as I head for the library, though I really have no purpose going there beyond me telling the girls that’s where I was headed. Class doesn’t start for another ten minutes and the campus is slowly coming to life. Students are wandering along the paths, some of them scurrying toward the dining hall for a lastminute breakfast. There are a few people hanging out in front of the library, most of them clutching coffee cups in their hands as they chat with their friends.
I approach the library on the north side, rounding the building so I can enter through the front doors when I spot a familiar someone. I come to a complete stop, taking him in.
Rhett.
He’s in his uniform, even the jacket but his tie hangs around his neck completely undone, the buttons at the top of his shirt open. His light brown hair is damp, like he just got out of the shower, and he’s just about to shove half a muffin into his mouth when he spots me, doing a double take.
I’m frozen in place, unsure how to react, feeling like a fool when I don’t do anything at all. I don’t even smile. It’s like I can’t move and I watch as he goes ahead and pushes the muffin into his mouth, chewing as he makes his approach.
“Willow Lancaster.” He says my name like we barely know each other, when I was sitting on his lap Friday night and his hands were on me, his mouth at my ear and saying all of those things that leave me a trembling mess just thinking about them.
“Rhett Bennett,” I return because I have no clue what else I should say.
“You’re looking good this morning.” His gaze sweeps over me slowly, lingering on what feels like every part of me, and a hot flush coats my skin at his obvious perusal.
“Um, thank you.” I did nothing special. I am in my uniform, my hair pulled back with a hunter green bow that matches the green in our plaid skirts. My lips are red but otherwise I’m not wearing much makeup except for a light coat of mascara on my lashes. I’ve got my usual Mary Jane shoes on my feet too—this version is made by Miu Miu.
Meaning, I am dressed as my usual self and looking the best that I can considering it’s a Monday, yet he still seems wowed by my appearance. This is definitely more than Silas ever gave me.
“Where are you going?” he asks after a few seconds of me remaining quiet while I absorb his words. His overwhelming presence.
“The library.” I wave a weak hand in the direction of the massive building we’re standing in front of. “What are you doing?”
We didn’t talk over the weekend because I didn’t think it felt right. Besides, I don’t have his number so I don’t know how I could get a hold of him. I suppose I could’ve reached out via the school app we have on our phones because we have access to every teacher on it, as well as students, but I thought that might be weird.
And I didn’t have the courage.
“Just got done with practice. Cramming food in my mouth before class.” He pinches off a piece of muffin and pops it into his mouth. “Still thinking about Friday night.”
I blink at him, shocked he’d admit such a thing. “Excuse me?”
Rhett swallows and grins. “Come on now, Will. Don’t play cool with me.”
“I …” The words disappear on my tongue when he takes a few steps closer to me, his body brushing against mine, his scent filling my head. The boy has no business smelling so delicious.
“You still thinking about it too?” he asks, his gravelly voice settling in my stomach, warming me up.
I shrug one shoulder, sucking in a breath when he grabs my hand, interlocking our fingers. His palm is wide and slightly rough, his fingers long, and a thrill streaks through me at him holding my hand.
This boy makes me weak.
“Come on now, Will. Be real with me.”
“I am still thinking about it.” I lift my head, our gazes locking. His eyes are a beautiful swirl of brown and green and I lose myself in them for a bit. “I feel awkward.”
The words blurt out of me like I have no control over myself.
He smiles, reaching with his other hand to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “You don’t look awkward. Why do you feel that way?”
“I’m afraid I’m going to say the wrong thing.” I swallow hard. “Do the wrong thing.”
His expression softens. “You can’t do anything wrong in my eyes.
I actually snort, which is embarrassing. See? I can do something wrong. “Please. You’re just saying that.”
“Nope. Pretty sure I mean it.” He smiles and the sight of it makes my breath catch. The bell rings and he releases his grip on my hand, taking a step away from me. “See you in English?”
I nod slowly, like I’m in a trance. “Definitely.”
