Only When It's Us (Bergman Brothers #1)(10)
A leggy blonde stands behind Willa, her brow pinched in disapproval. “You’re a disgraceful piece of shit,” she says, eyes on Aiden. Her mouth starts flying, so I can’t follow her anymore. Ren’s aware of this, and pulls out his phone, transcribing what she says for me in our private text.
“You don’t think female athletes have a hard enough time? Every professor of ours provides what we need rather than making us beg. I was under the impression it’s not that hard to be a decent human being, but here you are, proving me wrong. Fuck you and good night.”
Before either of us can even begin to explain, the tall blonde yanks Willa by the arm and turns them right around, then out the door.
Ren drops his phone, genuinely impressed, and claps as they go. “Damn.”
Aiden rubs his face. I can’t see his mouth, but I’d bet my right foot he’s saying shit on repeat under his breath.
Freya takes his beer and finishes it, then wipes a hand across her mouth. “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: men are idiots. Remind me, why’d I marry you?”
Aiden drops his head to the table but manages to type his answer in group chat. Good question.
My leg bounces with nerves as class starts. It’s almost comical at this point, but the only seat I can see that’s vacant is next to me, again. Aiden’s yammering on about some formula I already got the hang of when I prepped for class last night, as Willa comes bounding down the ramp, bookbag jostling almost as much as her wild hair that can’t seem to make up its mind between waves or curls.
She wears sweats that completely drown her body, and she looks winded, which means she must have been sprinting the whole way here, given she’s obviously in incredible shape. Slowly, she comes to a stop at the vacant seat next to me, while Aiden lectures and pointedly ignores her late arrival.
Her eyes meet mine, fueled with loathing. Those amber irises once again turn an angry copper. If she could erupt in flames, she would.
She’s fiery and pissed. I find it much more delightful than I should.
Because when I lost my hearing, daily life took on a severe, two-dimensional flatness, which I haven’t quite recovered from. A lot of what I loved was lost to me—playing music, competitive soccer, rowdy nights out with friends. I’m bored. My social life’s truncated to a few buddies who stuck around and my family, my free time spent working out compulsively, spending time in nature, and doing schoolwork. Not a particularly riveting existence.
Meaning, Willa Sutter is a welcome distraction, and she’s shockingly easy to provoke. I’m the smack-dab middle child in a brood of seven, so I know a thing or two about provoking. It’s my area of expertise, actually.
I stare at her, making sure to add a touch of smirk to my expression. Just enough to piss her off.
If the curl of her lip is any indication, she growls at me as she drops into her seat and slaps her notebook on the desk. Then she whips back the cover and slams her pen on its surface, too. I hear only some of it, but I feel the intensity in all her movements.
I almost feel bad that she’s frustrated, until I remind myself she didn’t give either Aiden or me a chance the other night to set the record straight, not that I really would have been able to.
Not that she knows that.
If I were Willa, as desperate for those notes as Aiden told me she is, I would have calmed down enough to hear out my professor. I’d have been sensible enough to realize that was the only way I could get to the bottom of what was going on, and get what I needed. But I’m a practical, level-headed person. Willa Sutter clearly is not. If her hotheaded temper keeps her making shitty assumptions and seeing the worst in a person, that’s her problem, not mine.
My empathy for her went far enough that when we parted ways in the parking lot after dinner, I told Aiden he needed to explain the situation to Willa. He’s the one who created this confusion in the first place. His guilt did not extend that far.
“You have a voice, Ryder,” he said. “Use it.”
Asshole.
I steal a glance at Willa, who seems to have buckled down, her eyes flicking repeatedly from the board to her notebook. Halfway through class, she raises her hand, looking both defiant and like it’s the last thing she wants to do. I can’t hear what she says, since she’s seated to my left, her mouth facing Aiden, but his response makes it easy to figure out.
“The answer to that question is a formula that I broke down in class two weeks ago, Willa. I suggest taking notes when you’re here so you can refer back to them.”
Which of course puts Willa’s focus once again on me, gifted recipient of the notes. I’m going to murder my brother-in-law. Freya might miss Aiden for a while, but she’ll get over him.
Slowly, Willa’s eyes drift toward me. I can’t help but glance up and meet them. If looks could kill, hers would. Flames burst in her irises. Her cheeks are blotched with pink. She’s the portrait of pissed. I, on the other hand, am as placid as a lake. Calm, cool, still. I hold her gaze as long as she holds mine. For the second time, she blinks away first, then turns to the front of the room.
The first strike happens five minutes later, when a pointy elbow nails my ribs. Wind rushes out of me as I spin instinctively toward her. Willa’s composed, eyes on her notebook, jotting down Aiden’s words furiously.
Ohhh, Sutter. Two can play this game.