Page 21 of Falling

We stare at each other, talking with our eyes. His face is puzzled but amused, searching my face for something as the crease between his eyebrows deepens. He’s frustrating me just from the fact that I can’t get inside his head.

What are you doing?I’m trying to say.

I don’t know,he would say,but you're staring at me.

You looked at me first, I’d retort until we’re in an intense staring contest.

He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out and he clamps it shut.

Kennedy whistles, pushing out her chair from the table. “Well, I better get going, you know, to my job.”

“Oh, so now you want to go,” I mumble as she scrambles to her feet, rushing behind the counter. I look at Scarlett, and the traitor is packing her notebook back into her bag. “Scar, seriously?”

“Yeah, I've got, uh, business millionaire duty to attend to,” she says. She’s the worst liar I’ve ever met in my life. She slings her bag over her shoulder, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “I’ll see you tonight. Love you.”

I flash her a look, whispering, “Don’t leave me,” to which she responds, “Play nice.”

Miles hooks his foot around the leg of my chair, pulling me impossibly closer to him, and it takes all that I am to pretend not to be affected by his proximity. Not only is he easy on the eyes, but he alsosmellsgood. He’s got that signature man scent, all woody and earthy like he bathes in it.

I hate it.

He drops his face into his hands. “And then there were two.”

“Do you get some weird pleasure out of ambushing me?”

“Doyouget some weird pleasure out of me ambushing you?”

“No.” I narrow my eyes at him, trying to figure him out but I get nothing. “Why do you always do this? You’re making me jittery.”

“How? I’m not even doing anything.”

“You’rehere,in my safe space. That is you actively doing something.”

He holds his hands up in defeat, the goofiest grin on his face. “I’msorry. I didn't know you claimed the campus café as your safe space. Should we rename it Wren’s Café so no one else walks in?”

“If it keeps you out, why not?” He smiles, and I smile too, and it's like all the ice around my heart is slowly being thawed. Just like that, we’re back in this weird friendly flirty thing I have no clue what to do with. “So… any solutions to your problem, or are you still warming up the bench?”

“For your information…” He trails off, drumming his fingers on the table. I can’t help but notice how good they look too. They’re not chubby and dirty like a lot of men’s fingers are. They look strong and long. His knuckles are a little red, and I can imagine that his fingertips are calloused. “Yes, I am still warming up the bench. You?”

“We tried to have a meeting with the team, but they’re all useless. I thought the hockey players were the ones with talent and no brains, but it turns out it might be us.”

Miles crosses his arms against his chest, shaking his head. “This clearly isn’t our year, Wrenny. We should just make out and forget about it.”

“Why is making out always your first option?”

“Why isn’t ityourfirst option?”

“You have a habit of doing that, you know?”

“Doing what?”

“Flipping every question I ask you back onto me,” I explain, trying to stare him down, but it doesn’t work. “It’s annoying.”

“You’re annoying,” he retorts. I blink at him, and he sighs, shaking his head. “You’re not annoying. I don’t know why I said that. You’re gorgeous.”

I scoff, rolling my eyes. “You know, Scar and Kennedy actually suggested something earlier….” I trail off, waiting for him to lose interest or tell me to continue. He does neither. He just continues looking at me, so I say, “They think it will help me out if we pretend to dateeach other. I know how weirdly obsessed people are with you. I mean, I’ve gotten at least half a dozen side-eyes since you sat down with me, so everyone clearly thinks you're a big deal. I know it's stupid, and you don't have to agree to it but?—”

“I’ll do it.”

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