Page 36 of Study Buddies

“Jayden said he could drive me back in about an hour.”

“And I’m heading out now. Same location, same road. My truck’s twice the size of Jay’s hatchback, so it’s safer.”

“I don’t mind waiting.“ I wasn’t entirely sure why I was balking. I’d ridden in with Kyle this morning and we’d just spent a couple of hours working together. When I was around him, I could never quite relax the way I could with Lucas and Jayden. Maybe it was because I’d known them for longer. Or maybe just that Kyle was unpredictable. Whatever it was, every time I was near him, my pulse sped up.

He cocked his head to the side. “So let me get this straight. You’re going to risk your grade for me, but you won’t trust me to drive you home?” His lips twisted into a crooked smile. “Believe me when I say my driving record’s a hell of a lot better than my academic record.”

That was actually a valid point. “All right, thank you. I’ll text Jayden.”

Once I’d done that, I walked with Kyle to his oversized black truck. He opened the passenger door, and just like this morning, I tried—and likely failed—to look graceful and coordinated while climbing up to the high seat.

But unlike this morning, Kyle put one hand on my arm and the other on the small of my back. His large palm was warm through my shirt. He waited until I’d settled in the seat before pulling out the seatbelt and leaned in closer. “Want me to buckle you in, Victoria?” There was a glint in his eyes, and suddenly,I could visualize him leaning across me, his hands at my hips brushing against my hips.

“I think I can manage.” I took the seatbelt from him, our fingers touching briefly. Apparently, Kyle didn’t need to take his shirt off to make my cheeks redden.

The truck rocked as he climbed in. He backed out of the parking space quicker than I probably could have going forward. In very little time, we were passing the last homes of the little town of Haverford and heading down a narrow, twisting road.

“So, what’s your story?” he said after a few minutes.

“My story?”

“I’ve heard you’ve got the absolute worst taste in roommates.”

For some reason, that struck me as funny. “Yeah, you could say that. I’m staying with these three guys, and they’re all horrible people, and?—”

He laughed. “I meant before that. I heard about that guy you stayed with—he wasn’t a boyfriend?”

“No. He was barely a friend. I was just a bit desperate.”

“Why?”

I told him a little about the women I’d shared an apartment with last year. “It started out okay, but then things got messy.”

“What, you girls couldn’t settle it with a pillow fight?”

I was caught between rolling my eyes and laughing. “Well, that’s how we usually do it, but Cynthia was allergic to Memory Foam, so we didn’t want to risk it.”

Kyle grinned. “But you would’ve if she wasn’t, right? Don’t kill the fantasy.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. Can I ask you a question now?”

“Go for it.”

“Why won’t you take the composition class seriously?”

“Because it’s bullshit. It doesn’t—” He cut himself off, shaking his head as if to clear it. “Come on, you can think of a better question than that. Don’t you want to be a writer?”

I stared at him, wishing he’d finished his thought. “No, I want to be a teacher.”

“Then why’re you tutoring writing?” Before he could answer, he laughed. “Okay, I get it—because it’s still teaching.” His voice was strong and confident again, and it was like I’d never asked him why he didn’t try in class.

“I’d like to teach English in a high school.”

Kyle looked over, his hands steady on the wheel. “I sure wish my high school English teacher had looked like you.” He gave a low laugh. “Then maybe I would’ve actually paid attention in class.”

“It’s not too late.”

He shrugged, his eyes on the road again. He drove his truck skillfully along all the twists and turns, never straying from the center of the lane. “It’s still your turn. Ask me something.”

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