Page 26 of Don't Let Me Fall (Don't Let Me 1)

I dig it out and see his name on the screen. “Seriously?”

“You’re a lot nicer on the phone,” he returns as he lifts his phone to his ear.

“And yet you’re just as annoying.” I ignore his call, tuck the phone back into my purse, and slip off my backpack, digging into the pouch. “Which reminds me…”

I can feel him watching me as I rummage through my bag, but I ignore him. Like how I’m ignoring the dryness in my mouth and my fluttering pulse. It’s like he knows how to shock my senses with nothing but a simple look or a cocky smirk.

It’s…unnerving.

And irritating.

I don’t like it.

“You know, it’s rude to dig in your backpack when you’re in the middle of a conversation,” he points out, his tone laced with amusement, but I ignore that, too, collecting my defenses around me like a woman preparing for war.

“I have something for you,” I mutter, pulling out his freshly washed T-shirt and offering it to him. “Here you go.”

He stares at the piece of clothing for a beat too long and leans away from it. “Said you could keep it.”

“I think I’m good. Thanks, though.”

His gaze slides down my body, and his mouth ticks up on one side. “You sure? Don’t get me wrong. I like the jeans and sweater look, but––”

“If I change my mind, I’ll be sure to let you know.”

He opens his mouth to say more when his attention catches on something behind me. His mouth closes, and he takes the T-shirt from my hand, albeit grudgingly.

“See you tonight, Sunshine.”

He walks past me, and I turn on my heel, watching him leave as another familiar face grabs my attention.

Logan’s on the path, standing next to a girl, though his focus is on his roommate. They stare at each other as Colt approaches. And I watch, holding my breath. I don’t know what I’m waiting for. What I’m expecting. But I can’t help it.

Unfortunately, when Colt reaches Logan, they’re too far away for me to hear what they’re saying. Logan laughs, though, and shakes his head as Colt continues walking down the path with his hands in his front pockets like he’s taking a stroll through the park instead of heading to his next class.

I take another sip of my coffee, more curious than I’d like to admit. Logan looks at me, says something to the girl beside him, and strides toward me.

“Hey,” I greet him, trying to lighten the mood while still unsure where we stand after he left.

He avoids my gaze and stares at the guys throwing a frisbee on the grass off to his left. “Hey.”

“You still mad at me?” I ask.

“Why were you talking to Colt?”

“We ran into each other.”

He shakes his head as if he doesn’t believe me. As if he’s still hurting when he has no right to be.

“Why were you talking to another girl a second ago?” I counter, pointing to where he’d come from.

He tosses a quick glance over his shoulder to where he’d been standing, chatting with a random girl. And he knows I have a point.

With a sigh, he turns back to me. “You’re right. If I can have an innocent conversation, so can you.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he grunts, but he’s still avoiding my gaze. He’s still sensitive. Still unsure. I can see it. Feel it. It’s tainting the air around us, causing every exchange to be stilted and forced.

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