Page 90 of Beyond the Lines
“Can you?” I ask, glancing meaningfully at the scattered cups around her. “Because right now, it looks like you’re making some pretty shitty ones.”
Her eyes flash dangerously, and I can see tears welling in them. “Fuck you, Declan. You don’t get to judge me.”
“I’m not judging you.” I shrug. “I’m just wondering if you know what you’re getting into. Or who is trying to get into you, more precisely.”
“And what exactly am I getting into?” she challenges.
I glance at Ben. “Ask him about his freshman scorecard. I’m sure he’d be happy to explain where you fit in.”
Ben’s face goes red. “That’s a campus legend, man, it’s bullshit?—”
“Is it?” I step closer. “Because Maine knows a guy on your floor who’s seen it. Names, dates, ratings, social media links, and photos. Very classy.”
Lea’s expression falters for the first time, her gaze shifting to Ben. She opens her mouth to speak, but can’t manage any words. Em moves closer to Lea, whispering something in her ear. Lea nods, then squares her shoulders.
“I’m leaving,” she announces, gathering her clothes from the floor, still clutching the blanket around her.
“Right behind you,” Em says, scooping up their clothing, then giving me a look I can’t quite interpret before following Lea to the door.
“Nice job, asshole,” Ben mutters, shaking his head as he watches them depart. “Way to ruin a good thing.”
Something in me snaps. I step right into his space. “If I ever see you near her again, Mike and I will make sure they won’t find enoughof you to bury.”
“And me!” Linc chimes in, helpfully.
His eyes widen slightly. Good. He believes me. “Whatever, man. She came on to me. Not my fault you can’t keep your girl happy.”
“She’s not my—” I cut myself off, because explaining my complicated non-relationship with Lea to this douchebag isn’t worth the oxygen.
Instead, I turn and head for the door.
Outside, the air hits like a slap to the face. Lea is halfway down the sidewalk, struggling to pull her jeans on under the blanket while Em steadies her. It’s like watching a drunken walrus wrestle with denim.
“Lea, wait,” I call out, jogging after her.
She whips around, fuming, and nearly losing her balance. “Go fuck yourself.”
Maybe I deserve that for the scene I just caused, but damn if I’m going to apologize for keeping that asshole out of her pants. It might mean I never get to tell her what I wanted to—that I have feelings for her, and damn the consequences—but I have to try.
“Just hear me out,” I say, catching up to them. “Two minutes of your time, then I’ll leave you alone forever if that’s what you want.”
“I want that right now,” she snaps, finally getting her jeans secured. “I don’t want you here, Declan…”
But then Em looks between us, says something in Lea’s ear that gets her to cool down a little, then tells both of us, “I’ll be over there.”
Lea nods, and Em retreats to a bench about fifteen feet away—close enough to intervene if needed, far enough to give us privacy. And, finally, Lea turns to me, arms crossed over her chest, which is still only covered by the blanket.
“What could you possibly have to say that would matter to me, Declan?” she says. “I’ve never been more embarrassed in mylife.”
“Just stay away from Ben Mitchell.” I shrug. “If you trust nothing else I say, trust that…”
She laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “Seriously? You burst in there, completely humiliate me, follow me outside, and that’sit?”
I take a deep breath. “He’s?—”
“I’m a big girl, Declan. I was having fun. I was finally out of mydamnhead.” Her voice is steel, but there’s a waver underneath. “And I’ve dealt with heartbreak.”
The way her face falls slightly when she says it, a shadow passing over her features, makes my chest ache. I know about Chris—the basics, anyway—but the look on her face makes me wonder if I belong in the heartbreak club too. She’d certainly been upset when she left the bathroom, but maybe I’d mistaken why.
