Page 14 of Plaything

I nodded. “I’ll drive.”

Wyatt seemed taken back as he walked beside me. His lips pierced together like he was fighting back a comment, maybe a veto. Slowly, he looked down at me. “Okay,” he reluctantly agreed.

Huh. So Wyatt liked to be the one in control.

I didn’t expect that from him. Aiden and Dominic—definitely. But Wyatt and Niko seemed less intense. Not that they weren’t all intimidating, just some more than others.

The space in my car felt much smaller than usual. My vehicle was spacious and roomy. But with his massive body in my passenger’s seat, I felt like I was being smothered by his presence.

He smelled like cedar with the tiniest hint of clean laundry. His scent is fresh and relaxing, and I liked it.

Halfway to the store, he broke the silence. “What are your plans after you graduate?” He asked.

That was such a long sob story that I didn’t feel like explaining. “There’s a few chemical plants around the area. I’d like to work as a chemical engineer,” I explained the simplest version.

“So, you’re staying local?” He pushed.

I bit my lip in thought. My father’s house was two hours away from here. That was a good amount of distance. I wouldn’t tell him my address if I got a house or apartment. I fully planned on never seeing him again once I cut myself off. “I’m not sure. I have nothing that ties me anywhere,” I answered with a shrug. “I like the weather here,” I added, finding a reason to stay.

I felt his eyes on me as I drove, burning my skin. “You should be proud of yourself, Odette. There are not a lot of people your age who’ve accomplished what you have. Your ambition is incredibly admirable,” he spoke softly.

I was suddenly thankful that my car had an autopilot feature. I felt immobile, completely stunned. Something in me lit up at his words.

That was the first time anyone had commented on my accomplishments. I’d never had that recognition—the one I always longed for. His words lifted a weight in me, one I couldn’t understand.

I slowly glanced at him, trying not to show how much weight his simple words held. “Thank you...”

He gave me an apprehensive stare back. Our locked eyes created tension between us, yet I still felt comfortable.

Wyatt was very obviously handsome. Blonde hair, green eyes, and a body chiseled by Michelangelo. Not to mention the inherent attractiveness of his kindness.

The rest of the short drive to the store was quiet.

We began walking through the store, Wyatt insisting on pushing the cart. “Did you always want to teach?” I questioned.

He smiled, grabbing a few groceries as we made small talk. “Surprisingly, yes. I’ve always loved everything pertaining to literature. Teaching doesn’t feel like work for me, and I couldn’t be happier,” he answered.

I gawked at the happiness in his eyes and joy in his tone. He clearly found his passion, and it made me happy. “I like the way you speak about things, Wyatt,” I complimented gently.

He gave me a small smile, one that reached his eyes. “How so?” He pushed.

I expected the conversation to end after that. I blushed, not quite knowing how to explain myself. “You’re very sure of yourself, yet not overbearing or cocky,” I gave an example. I met his eyes, and I found myself veering off-topic. “You’ve been very kind to me—or welcoming is the better word,” I rambled, wrapping my arm around my torso as we walked. “I know you’re going out of your way to make me comfortable, and I want you to know that I do notice it. And I couldn’t thank you enough for the gestures,” I voiced.

Talking to Wyatt was easy; it was something that came naturally. They were much older than me, and I didn’t want to seem immature. These kinds of conversations should elevate my emotional intelligence, hopefully allowing me to show that despite my younger age, I was mature.

Wyatt never looked away from me as we strolled through the empty aisle. “I’m not going out of my way,” he corrected. “I know our living situation was sudden and strange. I don’t want you to feel like a burden or an intrusion. If you need anything, I want you to be comfortable enough to come to any of us,” he added with a smile.

I returned his smile with a weary one. “I don’t... I don’t know how to act around you all,” I admitted. They were still professors at the university I attended. For example, if they were all sitting down eating dinner, was I welcome to join? Deep down, I knew that they wouldn’t tell me no. But was that just because they had to be nice to me?

Wyatt grabbed a few groceries before we headed to the bedding aisle to get my heated blanket.

He pushed his head back, looking surprised. “Just be yourself. We don’t expect you to act like you’re in a classroom, and we surely won’t. I think you’re lovely just like this,” he commented.

A flash of regret washed across his features. Lovely. He seemed slightly embarrassed at the confession, but I couldn’t help but smile. I parted my lips to joke about my awkwardness when someone called my name.

Wyatt and I made eye contact, looking confused before we turned to look behind us.

My face paled, and my palms got sweaty. “You’re joking...” I whispered to myself.

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