Page 54 of One Day

“Shall we?”

She nods her head, squeezing my side when I step out behind her. The door is just shutting behind me when the hall fills with a slow clap, both of us turning our heads to find Dylan with a massive grin on his face. Sonya all but sinks into me, turning to bury her face against my chest, and I can’t help it—I laugh.

If we were going to get caught, I’m glad it was by Dylan. Even if I have a feeling neither of us is ever going to hear the end of it. At least we’re in this together.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

SONYA

“What’s got you in your head over there?” Walker asks, nudging my foot under the table. When I don’t acknowledge him, his hand moves across the table to squeeze mine. “Hey,” he says, tangling our fingers together. “Still with me, Sunny?”

“Sorry,” I mutter, squeezing my eyes shut before opening them to look at my laptop. When Walker asked if I wanted to meet him at Adam’s to do homework together, I had every intention of being present with him and with this project, but the longer I stare at it, the harder it is to focus. All I can think about is the frustrations Dylan and his teammates are dealing with, ones I’m sure go beyond the hockey team. “Did you say something?”

“What’s got you so in your head?”

“I’m just thinking about this project and how they’re missing the opportunity to ease their athletes' lives.” I lean forward on my free arm so I don’t have to pull my hand away from his. “I want to do what’s being asked of me, but the longer I stare at this sitemap, the less inspired I become. I just…I want to do something important. Something to help people, and this really doesn’t feel like that.”

“What’s stopping you from doing it?”

I grab the project brief from the table and shake it. “This?”

“Yeah, but have you asked if you can change directions?” he asks, taking the brief from my hand and flattening it on the table in front of him. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, and I shouldn’t find it as hot as I do, but I find myself studying the movement. Embedding it in my brain. “It says you need to design a prototype for an athletic-focused app designed to assist in the management of game schedules, among other things. It doesn’t hurt to ask if you can change the focus from the attendees to the players.”

“She’ll never go for that, Cowboy.”

“How do you know?” he asks, lifting his head to look at me while sliding the sheet back over. “The worst thing that happens from asking is she says no.”

Chewing my bottom lip, I consider what Professor Andrews said about using the players to our advantage. This isn’t what she meant when she said it, but nonetheless, this is where I’ve ended up. Overthinking everything, and frankly, just over the proposed direction.

“Maybe you’re right.”

His lips pull up, a grin taking up his face. “Of course I am.”

“It’s less cute when you agree with me,” I tell him, but I can’t help but smile when his nose scrunches up.

Things between us have transitioned so smoothly from platonic to toeing the line of friends, and moments like these, where I can’t help but take him in for everything he is, should be worrying me. Friends don’t study friends like I study Walker, but I can’t help it.

It’s hard not to stare at him sometimes. I should shut down all the wild thoughts taking up my brain. Shoving them down will be better for both of us in the long run, but the sunlight bleeding in hits him at exactly the right angle, and all I can do is drink him in. The strong line of his jaw and the pull of his lips, drawing my gaze to the dip in his chin. The perfect, perfect dip in his chin and that thought alone pulls my stomach into knots.

I should be focusing on his clothes and the way I want to tear them off, not these spiral-inducing thoughts about how utterly flawless his smile is.

“Shit, I gotta get going.”

“You mean you don’t want to spend all your time in my presence?” I ask when he starts collecting his stuff, sliding it into his bag.

The hem of his shirt lifts when he stands up, raising his arms to slide them into his jacket, and my eyes fall to the line of muscles disappearing beneath the waistband of his pants. If we were anywhere else, I might have persuaded him to stay and let me follow them, but instead, I’m forced to shake the thought from my head and focus.

“Come on now. You know I want to spend all my time with you,” he says, and for a second, I don’t think he’s kidding as he slides the strap of his bag onto his shoulder. “I do, however, have a meeting with my advisor that I can’t miss.”

“Are you sure? What if I ask nicely?”

“Not even then, I’m afraid,” he says, leaning down to kiss the side of my head. He holds his lips there for a second longer than necessary. “Think about talking to your professor,” he says, running his finger over the project brief and stopping on the corner where Professor Andrews' office hours are listed. “Looks like her office hours are now.”

Pressing my lips together, I tilt my head back to look up at him. “You really just had to point that out, didn’t you? I like running from my problems, Cowboy.”

He hums. “Just think about it.”

“I will.”

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