Page 44 of Sweet Oblivion

I shrugged. “Not sure.”

“Steve did some research,” Nash said.

We ate at a little diner not far from the main campus, and Nash insisted I take a chai to go. After we arrived, he walked me to the registration table, his gaze keen as he took in the old trees and towering white buildings.

Steve stood to the side while I checked in.

The woman at the desk smiled at me, a polite show of teeth. “And who’s this?”

“Oh, Nash is my friend,” I said. I clutched the welcome packet she handed me as another couple of girls and six teenaged boys broke off from the back.

“Are you Aya?” one of the girls asked.

I nodded, stepping closer to Nash.

“I’m Li. You’re on our team. We’ve been waiting for you.”

“Oh. Well, hi—”

“We need to start looking at plans for our robotics entry,” Li said.

“I need to head to the dorms. I haven’t dropped my luggage—”

“No, we need to start now,” Li said. “All the other teams are already brainstorming.” She waved her hand at the clusters of teenagers sprawled around the large room.

I turned to face Nash, not ready to let him go.

He slid a lanyard with my name tag over my head. “Steve and I will get your luggage to your room,” he said. Then he sighed. “I’m going to miss you.”

“Is this your boyfriend?” Li asked.

For the first time, she didn’t sound bossy. She sounded envious.

“Yeah, I am,” Nash said, eyeing the boys in the group. “Be sure to tell the others she’s taken.”

I looked up, a question on my lips, but Nash bent down and kissed me. He wrapped me tightly in his arms, just as he had last night and sealed his mouth over mine. I parted my lips, needing more, but he pulled back, clearly aware of our audience. Right. My cheeks flamed.

“I’m going to hold you to your promise about the shows. And I mean it—I want you to be mine,” he murmured in my ear.

I tipped my head back, holding his gaze. My worry about the girls he’d meet over the next weeks faded as I noted his proprietary glare around the room. Nash had just staked his claim. In front of my entire summer cohort.

Instead of being frustrated with his high-handedness, I melted. Because he was jealous. Because he couldn’t stand the idea of me hooking up with an MIT boy any more than I could handle him with one of the beautiful fans.

Nash glowered for a moment longer, and then he smiled at me—the devastating one that made me hot and bothered—before he walked over to Steve.

Another girl in our group sidled up to me. “Your boyfriend’s hot.”

“He is.” I nodded, my gaze still trailing Nash.

“He seemed to want to make sure no one here bothered you,” she said.

I finally turned to look at her. “What’s your name?” I asked.

“Sarai,” she said.

I offered her my hand. “Aya.”

“Oh, we all know who you are now,” she said with a laugh. “You’re the girl with the hot boyfriend.”

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