Page 9 of Uncovered
I have no reason to see her, much less talk to her. And that’s for the best. Because if I had to see her again, had to talk to her? I might not be able to stop myself from telling her just how amazing she is, from tucking her hair behind her ear, or from leaning down to brush a kiss across her lips.
And holy hell. Talk about a bad fucking idea.
***
Phoebe
“Hey, you’re back early. How was your tour?” Mel says as she stands on the couch, hanging twinkle lights.
“Need a hand?” I hang my bag on the hook and walk into our cozy little suite.
“Ha. You’re even shorter than I am. Besides, I’m just about done. And you’re avoiding the question-- how’d it go? Was Gabe a no-show? Because I’ll track him down, kick his ass, then show you around campus myself.”
I smile. We’ve only known each other twenty-four hours, but she’s ready to beat a guy up for me. This friendship has potential. “He actually got a little behind, so he asked a friend to cover for him. The guy was...I don’t know. Kind of grumpy? Hot, but like, perpetually annoyed.”
She steps down and surveys her handiwork. “Does this hot jerk have a name? Statistically speaking, I may know him, given my penchant for attracting good-looking men who also happen to be soulless.”
“Yea, Ty Marshall. Have you met him?”
Mel stares at me like I’ve just told her Harry Styles himself was my tour guide. “Ty? Ty Marshall?”
“Yea...so, that’s a yes?”
“Honey, everyone knows Ty Marshall. And his roommates. They’re like royalty around here. And he was a jerk to you? Because I’ll kick his ass, too, fine though it may be.”
“No, not exactly. Just grumpy. Maybe he was having a bad day.”
“Maybe,” she says skeptically. “His roommate Knox is a jerk, I know that much. At least, Ian thinks he is. But Whit’s a sweetheart, and Booker’s pretty to look at.”
“Yea, Knox showed up right as our tour was ending. At first, I thought they might be brothers. But no, just jerk twins, apparently.”
“Apparently...listen, you let me know if he bothers you, ok?”
“It’s nothing like that,” I assure her. “More than likely, he was just annoyed that he got roped into giving up his Saturday afternoon to lead a freshman across campus.”
“If you say so…”
“Cross my heart. But, if I see him again, which seems highly doubtful, and he’s a jerk, you’ll be the first person I tell.”
“Good,” she nods, seemingly satisfied. “Hey, Ian and I are heading out to Blackbird tonight. You want to come? It’s a bar downtown, but since you’re still underage, you won’t be able to drink. When’s your birthday? We can get you an ID if--”
“No--” I blurt the word out loudly, panic rising to the surface.
“Woah, ok. Sorry. Totally did not mean to offend you. I just figured it would be cool for you to meet some people. But, you know, maybe another time.” She smiles gently and heads into the kitchen.
I follow, needing to finish our conversation. “I don’t drink. Ever,” I tell her, and I’m sure I sound like a crazy person, but god, why didn’t I think of this? She’s a college student. She’s going to party.
“Ok, no worries. I promise not to pour any alcohol down your throat, ok?”
She’s teasing, of course, but my anxiety doesn’t register that. I pale at her words.
She reaches out, her hand covering mine. “Hey, Phoebe, I’m sorry. That was clearly the wrong thing to say. Look, I meant it, though. Ian and I go out for a few drinks now and then, but that’s it. We don’t drive, and I won’t bring it home, ok?”
I nod woodenly. “Yea, no. That’s fine. Sorry, I just--it’s kind of a sensitive subject for me.”
“Yea, I got that.” She smiles kindly. “Well, if going out isn’t your scene, you’ll have to visit us at work tomorrow morning. We’ve both got the early shift and we’ll pour all the caramel macchiatos you can handle. Sound good?”
“Yea,” I tell her, “that sounds really good.”
