Page 23 of You Belong With Me

I set my mug down. “I’m sorry,” I say again, hoping he’ll accept it this time. “I took a gummy last night, and I didn’t wake up until just a few minutes ago…”

Ihatehaving to justify myself to him. I hate it. I’m a grown-ass woman, and if I want to make coffee before texting someoneback, I should have the freedom to do that without having to explain myself.

He blinks at me, still angry, but I can see his features soften a little. “I was worried about you,” he says.

No, he wasn’t. I know that’s not why he’s angry. He’s angry because I’m not giving him the attention he wants and expects, but of course, he can’t say that. Maybe that’s a cynical way to look at this, but I know how his brain works. I was his girlfriend for one very long, tumultuous year.

I push out a breath, and glance down, before looking back up and flashing him a smile. “What’s happening today?” I ask, hoping to distract him from his anger.

“I have a meeting with the Undergraduate Dean to talk about re-enrolling in classes, and then my cousin, Daniel, wants to meet for lunch,” he says.

Sounds like he has a full plate this morning. Thank God. That gives me the freedom to get back into my own routine.

“Ah, okay,” I say, picking up my mug again, and taking a big gulp of my vanilla-flavored coffee.

He glances at his phone. “If you get dressed now, we won’t be late.”

Uh.“Late for what?”

The anger returns to his face. “My meeting with the Undergraduate Dean, Wyn. Are you fucking stupid? Didn’t youjusthear me say that?”

I should be taken aback by his insult, but it’s so typical for him that it rolls right off me, and I know enough not to challenge him, so I bite my tongue. “The Dean isn’t going to want me there…” I point out.

He narrows his eyes and takes another step toward me. “Or you don’twantto be there. Maybe that’s the real issue.”

Dear God.I can’t fucking win with him, and honestly, I don’t care about any of this enough to argue. Pushing out a breath, I lift my hands. “Just let me put something on.”

That seems to placate him. He nods and takes a step back, allowing me to push past him so I can grab something out of my closet. I pull out the first thing I see—a longish flowery sundress—and head to the bathroom with it.

He sits on my bed and starts scrolling on his phone. Thank God for that, because I half expected him to make an issue of me retreating to the bathroom to change, instead of feeling comfortable enough to do it in front of him.

When I emerge from the bathroom five minutes later, my hair is brushed, but I have no makeup on. No time for that.

He gets up, and we head out. He leads me out to his car—I guess his mom kept it—and we drive in silence to ExU. His meeting with the Undergraduate Dean takes over an hour, and as I expected, I’m forced to wait in the waiting room.

But lunch with his cousin is ten times worse, because who shows up to tag along? Lucas, Christian, and a couple of other guys. It’s my own personal hell. I’m trapped at a sausage party with Lucas literally staring at me the entire time—for allthreehours—his gaze often falling to the bandage on my arm.

To pass the time, I imagine all the ways I could murder Lucas and get away with it. Drowning? Stabbing? Lure him onto the edge of a cliff, then shove him over? That one is my favorite, because I imagine seeing the brief flicker of realization in his eyes as he reaches out for me, then drops abruptly out of view…

When the lunch is finally over, we all stand up, and Gabriel slides his arm around my shoulders, acknowledging me for the first time. “Well, guys, I need to get my lady home, so we can get in some alone time before the party tonight…”

Oh, shit.I knew it was coming–Gabriel wanting to have sex with me—but I hadn’t quite worked out how I was going to avoid it.

In a panic, my gaze flicks to Lucas. He’s visibly tense, his jaw clenched, a tic pulsing in his cheek. He’s looking at Gabriel like he could murder him right here, on the spot, in front of everyone.

I laugh uncomfortably. “Actually, I’m, uh, going to Rush House to help set up for the party.”

I just came up with that on the fly. There is no setup required for an impromptu party like we’re having tonight. Usually, a couple of the guys just haul a shit-ton of booze in from the garage, and someone else orders pizza. A text goes out to everyone, telling them to pop up, and that’s about it.

His gaze flicks over me suspiciously, and I can already tell he’s going to punish me later for not mentioning this before. But he wants to appear chill in front of his boys, so he forces a smile. “Yeah, cool. I guess I can head over to the surf shop, to say hi to the guys there. I told them I’d stop by.”

With a stiff nod, I smile back, shocked that a guy with amnesia remembers so many damn people. “Sounds good,” I say. My gaze slides past Lucas to Christan, who is standing beside him. “Christian, are you headed back to Rush House, by chance? Mind if I hitch a ride?”

“Yeah, sure,” he says easily. “Let’s go.”

I don’t even look at Lucas as I follow Christan to his car. He opens the door for me, and I slide in, pulling the door closed. During that split second that I’m alone in Christian’s car, I lean against the headrest and push out a relieved breath—just enjoying the moment of silence.

Christian takes a second to say goodbye to the others, then gets in, and starts the engine. I deliberately avoid looking at him,because he has Lucas’ fucking face–and I just can’t take it right now.

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