Page 29
Fine.
The clock tower chimed ten, and too many pairs of eyes trailed me as I feigned a casual stride towards where she sat, poring over some papers.
The campus café buzzed with familiar gossip and transparent bids of social ladder climbing: affected laughs scraped against my eardrums, lashes fluttered just so, perfect teeth flashed in overly pleasant smiles hiding the fangs underneath.
People scrambled out of my way as I passed or rushed to occupy newly vacated chairs, taking advantage of the unnaturally warm October Saturday to sit outside and bask in the sun.
Conversations stalled in my wake, and my spine stiffened, reminding me I wasn’t supposed to be seen paying her much attention, if I didn’t want another lecture from my father—or worse.
But the worry felt far away compared to the fresher, more irritating sting of her cold shoulder, so I pressed on. Told myself I’d deal with the consequences later, if only I managed to get her to look at me this time.
Warm brown hair spilled down her shoulders, soft curls catching the dappled light as she perched on an wrought-iron chair, one leg tucked under her, head bent low over whatever she was reading.
Of course she hadn’t bothered to put on anything snazzier than worn jeans and a sweater. My lip curled as I approached, footsteps nearly silent on the stone patio.
Her coffee cup lay tantalisingly close to the papers she was so absorbed in.
Oh, Mia, you’re making it too easy.
The corners of my mouth twitched as I walked by, and my hand ever so lightly snagged on the rim, knocking it over. The dark brown liquid spilled, spreading like a stain all over—
A strangled squeal escaped her as she shot up and frantically tried to paw at it with napkins, movements a little clumsy.
“Oops, my bad,” I breathed, shoving guilty fingers into my pockets.
Her head snapped up—fuckin’ finally—and seeing her glare at me again punched the breath out of my lungs. A wave of relief swelled inside me, entirely disproportionate. Entirely concerning.
“‘Oops’? You fuckin’ jerk, you did it on purpose.”
Her hands balled into fists, strangling the soaked napkins, before they landed on the table with a pathetic plop.
“I wouldn’t dare.” My shoulders quirked up in a put-on half-shrug. “Was it something important?”
“Only my notes,” she snarled, before squinting at her ruined handwriting and wincing.
A jolt passed through me—suspiciously resembling guilt—smothered at once when she whirled back around, looking like she wanted to smack me: hands flexed at her sides, mouth drawn into a tight, trembling line.
I should’ve been worried she would do it.
Instead, a dark sort of thrill hummed in my bones.
“Calm down, I can help you fix it.” I spread my palms in front of me in a put-on, magnanimous gesture.
She drew up her shoulders and set her jaw in that familiar way that meant she was digging her heels in.
That’s it, fight me.
“Are you kidding me? You ruined them, quit acting like—”
The wind scattered her scent towards me and the rest of her sentence dissolved as my mind blue-screened.
Shit, what’s wrong with me?
I dragged a hand through my hair and refocused on her face.
“Careful,” I said, voice a little rough around the edges. I didn’t know who I was warning at this point.
My feet carried me one step closer in an attempt to intimidate her—or steel myself, I didn’t know. Up close, her scent hit me fully for the first time: citrus, spice, and something warm underneath, like sun-kissed skin. My body inched closer on its own, as if chasing another dose.
