“Something like that,” she replies, tucking a hank of hair behind her ear. She bites her lip, looking down at my feet for just a second before returning her eyes to mine. “In fact, you should come.”
She slides one of the pages from the top of the stack and stretches it out to me.
I grab the sheet, scanning over it quickly.
Community Action Committee. Allerson Hall. 6 p.m. September 24th.
“Is this your group?” I ask, pointing at her with the flyer. Her chin tilts up, her smile growing.
“Yes, it is. And I think you should come.”
I tilt my head. “Why?”
Her face shifts, her eyebrows drawing down.
“Wait,” I rush to add. “I’d love to be there, but why do you think I should come?”
Her severe expression doesn’t change. “Because I think you could learn something. If you come andlistento what we’re doing and actuallyseethe impact, you might understand why your philosophy on everything is kookydooks.”
She delivers this statement with the same amount of clear pragmatism as I’ve come to expect from her—until the end of her sentence.
It takes me a minute to process it, and when I do, I can’t help but throw my head back and laugh.
When I sober up, she smiles at me, looks down.
And giggles.
And fuck if the sound doesn’t twist me all up inside.
I’m fucked. I’m so fucking over my head.
“Okay, fair enough,” I reply. “Six p.m. tomorrow. I’ll be there to listen and learn.”
She nods, a sharp downward tilt of her chin. Our eyes seem locked together, and I’m aware of every second we stay standing here, and the light breeze that kicks up her citrus scent.
I don’t want her to leave. I want to spend more time with her. I want to hear her laugh more. I want to?—
“Ready to go, Storm?” Bambi’s soft voice is close to my ear, and something strange settles in my stomach when she places her hand on my biceps. But that sensation twists when I notice Shae’s watching the exchange.
Her eyes flit from mine to Bambi next to me, and I want to claw back all the assumptions I see swirling behind her gaze. She straightens her back, fidgeting with her tote bag, which causes her long skirt to sway.
My stomach drops when she steps back—away from me.
“Well,” Shae says, her voice bright. “I won’t keep you. See you tomorrow. Maybe.” She spins on her heel, and before I can say something more idiotic, she’s through the doors of the building.
Well, shit. That wasnothow I wanted that to go.
HowdidI want that to go?
My entire future is on the line, and if there’s anything I should focus on, it’s getting Stratos back. But instead, I’m standing here, replaying how she laughed like it’s the only sound that matters.
“I don’t want to keep Lance waiting, so I’ll head toward the front, then,” Bambi says. She steps around me, sucking in a fragile breath. And at the sight of her dejection, the reason for my even being here with her stabs me in the chest.
Bambi. Rainn. Her mother. Betrayal.
I’ve got too much going on to add more to my mess.
“Wait up, I’ll still escort you,” I say to Bambi.