Page 176 of Red Zone
About him.
I tug my notebook closer, flipping to my study outline, but my mind wanders anyway.
Things with Carter have been…okay.
Better than okay, really.
We haven’t talked about us, haven’t defined anything, haven’t even argued.
But he still shows up.
Like last week, when he showed up outside the apartment with a pint of cookie dough ice cream at eleven o’clock, just because he “felt like it.”
We sat on the couch and passed the pint back and forth, and when we finally fell asleep, we were still wrapped up in each other, his hand resting warm and heavy on my hip.
That’s how it’s been.
Him showing up in quiet ways I never thought he would.
But sometimes, when he thinks I’m not looking, I catch him watching me with this question in his eyes.
Like he’s starting to notice I’m not fully okay.
Like he can tell I’m starting to pull pieces of myself back.
And I hate that.
I hate that no matter how hard I try, part of me can’t just let go of what Grayson said and believe this is enough.
I rest my chin on my hand, staring down at my notes, the words blurring together.
Because even though things are fine, even though everything seems to be going okay…
I can’t stop wondering if that’s really enough.
By the time the man who plagues my thoughts slides into the seat across from me, my tea is cold and my pen is poised uselessly over my notes.
I blink up at him, startled.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” I murmur, though I can’t stop the little smile that tugs at my lips.
He just shrugs, plopping his drink down and leaning his elbows on the table.
“Yeah, well,” he says, voice low and warm. “You’re not supposed to be here alone either. And since Madison’s gone MIA…”
I roll my eyes, but my chest feels lighter already.
“You didn’t have to come.”
He smirks faintly, leaning back in his chair. “I know I didn’t have to, Lyla. Wanted to.”
That shuts me up.
He winks, tapping the top of my notebook. “Come on, pack up. I’m escorting you to your midterm.”
And he does.
Even with his hands shoved in his pockets and his hood up against the February chill, he falls into step beside me so easily, shortening his long stride to match mine perfectly.
