Page 21 of Devil on Skates
“Well, it was a while ago. But you know how the college social scene goes. It doesn’t stop at one campus.”
I see the gears turning behind his cool mask. What parties? When? How close?
“I didn’t know you two were acquainted,” he says, his grip tightening on the book.
“Like I said, it’s been a while.” I flash him a smile.
“I’ll make sure she gets it.” He tucks the book under his arm.
“Thanks.” I check the time. “Gotta get to class. See you around, Costello.”
I turn and head out, a grin tugging at the corners of my mouth. He’s going to flip through the pages for sure. And then he’ll find the note written in my neat handwriting.
Last night in the shadows reminded me of what happened at that party. We both know what you really want and that he can’t give it to you. When you’re ready, you know where to find me. -X
The note’s perfect because it’s specific enough to remind her of us, but still vague enough that it won’t completely blow up in my face if the wrong person gets their hands on it. But when Keith reads it, it’ll spark jealousy, and maybe Irina will have to confront what she’s been denying.
As I head to class, I feel my satisfaction settle in. Keith will either hand off the book without looking, which would be a littledisappointing, but Irina will still get the message, or his curiosity will get the better of him and he’ll see the note, shaking things up between them.
Either way, it’s a win for me.
Chapter 10
IRINA
THE LIBRARY HAS BASICALLYbecome my safe haven, because it’s the one spot where I can just bury myself in my studies without feeling like I’m constantly under a microscope. Surrounded by textbooks and research papers, I’m just another student trying to get through the semester, not my dad’s daughter or Keith’s maybe-girlfriend.
I settle into my favorite corner by the big windows, my notes spread out on the table. Then my phone buzzes with a text from Keith.
I’m on your campus. Where are you? Need a break?
That totally throws off my perfectly planned study session. Keith almost never comes here because I always go to him, or we meet at some place he picks. Him showing up here without warning feels like crossing a line and throwing off the fragile balance I’ve created between my worlds.
But sayingnowould mean giving explanations both to him and my dad, which I’m not ready for, so I text back a simpleyes, with the location where I want to meet with him. I grab my things and hurry outside.
Several minutes later, I spot him walking toward me. Surrounded by students in sweatshirts and jeans, Keith looks as if he walked out of a business magazine. He weaves through the crowd with the confidence of someone who’s used to being noticed and never questioned.
But when he reaches me, I realize there’s something off about him. His shoulders are rigid, and his face looks guarded in a way I didn’t see before.
“How about we go to that café close by?” I suggest, trying to break the weird silence.
“I can’t stay long,” he says, pulling a book out of his bag. “I have a group project. But here. This is yours.”
He hands me a book with a blue cover that I don’t recognize. It looks like a science fiction novel.
I blink at him in confusion. “What’s this?”
“Yourfriendasked me to return it to you,” he says, pressing his lips into a tight line. “He said you left it at his place.”
“My friend?” I frown at the book, because I’m sure I’ve never seen it before.
“Gallagher,” Keith says, watching me carefully. “The hockey captain. He said you two know each other from some parties.”
My heart skips a beat when I hear Xavier’s name, and I hope it’s not too obvious. “Gallagher gave you this? For me?”
“Yes, he came to find me this morning.” Keith’s tone is even, but there’s a tension in his posture that says he’s not letting his guard down. “Said you were old friends and asked me to return it.”
Xavier’s move is bold, even sneaky. Not only did he find Keith and get close enough to hand him this book, but he also created this whole setup to mess with us. It’s insolent, and honestly, I’m equal parts pissed and weirdly impressed.
