Turning off the engine, he spins to face me, obviously concerned about something. “You don’t get lonely?”
I shrug and look away from him, pulling on my coat sleeve until it covers my hand. “I… no. I like my own company.”
“But not all the time, right? I mean, you have friends and stuff, don’t you? People to hang out with? Support you?”
My stomach squirms, and I scratch the itch that’s quickly forming. “My parents are very supportive,” I softly murmur while opening the door.
“Wait.” Wily touches my arm before I can leap down and risk an ankle breakage.
I do as I’m told, watching him run around the truck and forgetting how to breathe as he reaches in and helps me down.
His hands are tucked under my no doubt sweaty armpits. Thank God for my thick winter coat.
“Uh… thank you.” I take a step back from him and bump into the open truck door. Letting out a self-deprecating laugh, I point at myself. “I’m a shorty. Always have been.”
“Your legs still reach the ground.” Wily winks at me, his smile playful and adorable.
My stomach stops squirming and starts to bubble again.
I ignore the sensation, darting away from his truck and wrestling the key card out of my bag while he locks up.
Oh man, I hope my room is tidy. I usually leave it just so before I walk out the door each morning, but occasionally I’ll be running later than I’m comfortable with. What was it like this morning? I seriously can’t remember.
Panic surges through me like an army of ants, my skin starting to itch as Wily holds the door for me and I slip into Buckley Hall, praying for whatever angels are available to do a quick sweep of my room.
Oh please, like he’s gonna care! You’ve seen his room, remember? It’s a bomb site.
Chewing on my lip, I wrestle to contain my laughter as we wait for the elevator.
Yet again, logic wins.
I just wish it’d let my emotions join the party sometimes. They’re always off scurrying around with worries and doubts while logic is just lying back with a smarmy smirk and shaking his head at my riotous insides.
Why can’t those two just get along?
I’d give anything to be as cool and unaffected as Wily always seems to be.
Looking up at the tower beside me, I tune into his voice as he steps aside to let me walk into the elevator first, then starts telling me about his first year in a Nolan U dorm and how he jumped at the chance to become part of Football Frat.
CHAPTER 15
WILY
“So, yeah, when a space opened up, I snatched it. I took the place of the previous senior, and then the other guys joined us over the rest of that year. Then Tyrell moved in at the beginning of our junior year. It’s been a good crew.”
“Do you all get along?” Satch is fidgeting with the buttons of her coat while we ride the elevator up to the third floor.
“Yeah. I mean, there’s the odd moment. Carson’s got a bit of a temper on him, but he’s getting better. And Grady gets pissed off with how messy everyone is sometimes.” I laugh, picturing Grady’s irritation.
“Hanging up towels—it’s not a new concept, people! And get your shit off the coffee table. It’s not a trash receptacle!”
Who the fuck saysreceptacleanyway?
Grady does.
I snicker to myself, glancing down at Satch, who’s gnawing on her lip.
Is she nervous or something?