Page 177 of Red Zone
As we near the lecture hall, I start fidgeting with the strap of my bag, nerves bubbling up.
He notices, of course he does, and stops before we make it all the way. Hooking a finger under my chin to tilt my face toward him, he calms my thoughts with those ocean blue eyes of his.
“Hey,” he says gently, his eyes soft but steady. “You’ve got this. You’re gonna kill it.”
I bite my lip, trying to stop the smile that comes from his belief in me, even if I don’t fully believe in myself.
He grins then, leaning just a little closer as his voice drops lower. “That’s my girl.”
Something in the way he says it sends heat rushing to my cheeks, my breath catching in my throat.
His hand lingers under my chin, his thumb brushing lightly over my jaw.
And then he leans in—just enough that I can feel the warmth of his breath on my lips, his eyes dropping to my mouth like he’s already forgotten where we are.
My heart stutters, my fingers tightening on my bag strap.
And quietly, barely above a whisper, I murmur, “Carter…we’re in public.”
He freezes, just for a beat. His smile falters faintly as reality sinks in, and he straightens, jamming his hands back into his pockets.
“Right,” he mutters, his shoulders stiffening. “Wouldn’t want anyone to see us like that.”
“Carter—”
He forces a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes this time.
“Don’t worry about it,” he cuts in lightly. “Go ace your exam. I’ll…talk to you later.”
Before I can say anything else, he turns and walks back down the hall, his head ducked, hands still stuffed deep in his pockets.
I stand there for a moment, watching him go, guilt knotting tight in my stomach.
And when I finally turn back toward the door, I catch sight of her.
Savannah.
Leaning casually against the wall a few yards away, her arms crossed, and her perfectly glossy lips curved into the faintest little smirk.
She pushes off the wall, her heels clicking on the tile as she turns and strolls away without a word.
My stomach drops.
And at the worst time imaginable, my notes and my exam are the furthest thing from my mind.
45
CARTER
It’s been three days, and I still can’t stop thinking about it.
The way she looked up at me, her lips parted, her cheeks pink like she wanted me to close the gap.
The way I leaned in without even thinking, like it was the most natural thing in the world to kiss her right there, in the middle of the hallway, with half of campus walking by.
And the way she stopped me.
Soft. Almost apologetic. But still, she stopped me.
