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“Told you. They purr.”
“That’s …” He trails off like he’s unable to put it into words.
“Yeah. It is.”
The moment stretches out between us and I’m suddenly aware of how close he is to me. Of how amazing he smells. Of how amazing it smells, here in his closet, surrounded by the scent of him mixed with shoe leather and cedar.
I want this moment to last forever. And I also want whatever comes next. But only if whatever that is is something better than this, which is hard to imagine.
And then my phone buzzes.
We both jerk away from Hen Solo. And by the time I have my phone out to look at the text I just got, my heart is pounding, and Martin is sitting on the other side of the closet again.
“Is that Trent checking on you finally?”
I blink, trying to force my awareness back to the phone in my hands and the words on my screen. “No. It’s just my sister responding to when I sent her the pin earlier.”
“So he still hasn’t responded? I’m starting to think this boyfriend of yours isn’t such a nice guy after all.”
“Why do you say that?”
“How long has it been since you texted him asking for a ride? Four hours? Five maybe?”
“I’m sure he just hasn’t had a chance to check his phone.”
“What did you say he does again? Is he a surgeon? Is that why he can’t check his messages?”
“No.” I fume at finding myself in the position of having to justify Trent’s behavior.
“Oh, right. He’s in chip marketing,” Martin says in a way that makes me certain he hadn’t forgotten that.
“He works for a startup. They have crazy hours, so he’s probably still busy with work.”
“On a Saturday evening? Plus, the weather’s this bad and he hasn’t even checked on you to make sure you’re somewhere safe.”
I shrug. “He trusts me to be able to take care of myself.”
“It’s not about trust. If he were actually a nice guy, he would have checked in with you by now. Not because he doesn’t know that you’re a smart, competent adult, but because he’d want you to know that he’s thinking about you.”
Martin’s words make my breath catch.
What would it be like to have someone like that in my life?
Okay, sure, Savannah does that all the time. But she’s my sister. My favorite person in the world. Who else does that for me? My mom, sometimes. Less often than she used to, though. But do I have anyone else? Anyone I’m not related to by blood?
Oh God … when I break it down and really think about it, other than my family, the people who I interact with most consistently are Dr. Lupke, my advisor, and Chad.
Frat-bro Chad checks in on my more than my supposed boyfriend.
What a cluster-cluck.
“Hey.” Martin reaches out to chuck my chin causing me to look up at him. “I didn’t say it to upset you.”
Stung, I go on the offensive. “Obviously not. I assume you’re just speaking from experience. Because you’re just a nice guy.”
He gives a huff of laughter. “Not at all. I never claimed to be a nice guy. Never even try to be.”
I give a snort of derision. “Right. Despite the way you’ve spent half your day feeding me and taking care of me like I’m an orphaned child you picked up on the street.”
