Page 36 of Corrupt Me

It had to be something snarky. I didn’t want him to think I was actually concerned about his well-being. It would be better if I kept hating him.

I didn’t expect a response immediately, but when I made it halfway across campus with nothing from him, the speck of worry turned into a nugget. It was easier to tell yourself not to worry than to banish that anxious feeling.

Entering Java Break, the campus coffee shop, with a heavy sigh, I went to the counter and smiled at Brody, the cute barista.

“The usual?” Brody asked, flashing me a pair of dimples.

Since avoiding Tristan, I’d been spending most of my free time divided between here and the library. Brody was always extra nice when he saw me. I wasn’t yet sure if he was like that to everyone or if he was flirting with me. I nodded, smiling in return. “Thanks.” My usual lately was a matcha latte with a pump of strawberry syrup.

“You survived the first week,” Brody said, making small talk, something he was good at.

“Barely,” I admitted, which wasn’t entirely true. I liked most of my classes and teachers. The adjustment to the workload left me with less free time than I anticipated, but I enjoyed being busy. It gave my mind less time to dwell on other things.

Like the six-foot-plus neighbor with tattoos for days.

The very one I’d been skillfully avoiding all week. It wasn’t a feasible arrangement I could keep up the entire year, but it was what I needed for now.

“Well, if you ever need a study partner, I’d be happy to help,” Brody offered.

That almost sounded like a date. Almost. Or someone offering to be a friend.

I was so bad at this stuff. I’d never dated anyone other than Preston and had no clue how to flirt with a cute guy. Did I want to flirt with Brody? Did I want him to ask me out?

He definitely seemed a safer, more practical option.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I replied, tapping my ID card on the transaction machine.

The guy behind me cleared his throat, which was my cue to move on.

I smiled at Brody.

He handed me my drink. “See you tomorrow?”

“Probably.”

With my matcha in hand, I took my stuff to an empty booth in the corner. As busy as the place was this afternoon, I considered myself lucky to find a spot. Sipping my drink, I opened my laptop and got down with some homework.

My matcha was still hot when the chair opposite mine scraped across the floor. I had my earbuds in, but the volume was low enough to still hear. I lifted my head from my laptop screen, knowing before my eyes connected with his who occupied the seat.

Familiar tingles danced over the back of my neck, the ones only brought on by one person.

Tristan kicked back in the chair, eyeing me with piercing blue eyes. Unlike Preston, nothing about Tristan’s choice of attire fell into the preppy category. Preston constantly looked as if he just walked off the golf course while Tristan looked like he just emerged from an underground club. He wore a dark gray hoodie today, the hood up, concealing most of his dark hair but not his eyes. Despite the table being between us, I could smell the wind on him. He brought the scents of fall with him inside, and it mingled with the aroma of coffee.

“Tristan, what are you doing here?” Irked, I popped out my earbuds.

With an irritating grin, he stretched his legs under the table, placing them in between mine. “I love it when you say my name like that. Annoyed yet breathy. It’s kind of hot, Shortcake.”

“Stop,” I hissed, glancing around the coffee shop. Thankfully, no one was paying attention to us.

Tristan plucked up a sugar packet from the table and twirled it between his fingers. “You missed me. Admit it.”

“I hate lying.”

His lips twitched.

“Really, what do you want, Trist—” I deliberately stopped myself from saying his name.

He caught on to why I hadn’t finished my sentence, the hoop at the corner of his lip lifting. “Wondering where you’ve been hiding.”

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