Beg You to Trust Me (Lindon U #2)(24)

I sink into my seat and grumble, “No reason. Shh, I’m trying to pay attention.”

I hear the scoff and smirk to myself as the professor finishes the first part of the class. We always get ten or fifteen minutes in between the lecture and movie, then after the movie finishes have a ten-minute discussion before leaving.

My stomach growls loudly as people pass by for bathroom breaks and a quick walk to stretch their legs. Suddenly, a granola bar is tossed at me, smacking me in the arm and bouncing into my lap.

When I pick up the chocolate covered granola, I grin. “Shit, I haven’t had one of these since I was a kid. They used to be my favorite.” I look at my seatmate. “You sharing your food with me, Sweet Cheeks?”

She cringes. “Not if you call me that. I want my granola bar back.”

I hold it tightly to my chest, probably melting the chocolate coating. “No way. I’ll figure out a new nickname, give me time. Everyone I hang with has one.”

“Everyone?”

Nodding, I rip open the food wrapper and take a big bite. “Yep. By the way, did you want half of this? ’Cause I’m a big dude and it’d take probably a whole box of these to even sate my hunger, but I can share this once.”

Her head shakes as those long fingers pull some of her dark hair out of her face and into a partial updo. “You already shared your food with me, remember? And no, you don’t have to share that. I had one before I came here.”

“You didn’t even eat the pizza I offered, so it doesn’t count. And no dinner?” I question. The class ends at nine, only an hour before the dining hall closes. And the good food is always picked through by then, so it’s basically scraps leftover.

She murmurs, “Wasn’t hungry.”

My eyes narrow as I take another bite of the snack, but she avoids looking at me as she types something into her laptop.

“I haven’t noticed you around Huden as much,” I comment. I’m not ashamed to admit I’ve kept my eye out for her. At first, I thought she was busy, but then it became a pattern. The guys, Caleb especially, would mess with me when they realized I was looking for someone whenever we were in there together.

She keeps typing away. “We must miss each other.”

Doubtful. My eyes narrow at her. She moves some of her hair to shield fer face. I flick a couple of the strands. “What’s your natural color?”

One of her lighter brows flicks up. “Why do you think I’m not brunette?”

I eye the various strands that are darker, and some that are lighter. Plus, she showed up at the party with black hair. “I’ve seen you before now, remember? And something tells me the Edgar Allen Poe look isn’t your normal either.”

She snorts. “Edgar Allen Poe?”

“The poet. Your black hair reminded me of him because of his poem the—”

“Raven,” we say simultaneously.

We both smile, mine wider than hers.

She says, “I’m familiar with it. And you’re right. I’m a natural blonde.” Her eyes go to my hair. “I think it’s a little darker than yours. Sometimes in the sunlight I’d have highlights that made it look almost brown. It used to make my sisters jealous.”

“Why’d you dye it?”

She sits still for a while. Too still. “I needed a change,” she murmurs. “Something new for my freshman year. I wanted to be different.”

There’s more to the story, but I don’t think she’d tell me if I asked, so I decide not to push the subject. Instead, I ask, “You are eating right?”

I’ve noticed the slightest change in her face. It’s narrower than it was the first time I saw her, like she’s lost a little weight. My eyes have raked over her a time or two to see if it’s noticeable anywhere else, but I never get to look long because someone always catches me.

She scoffs. “Yes. Quit worrying, Mom.”

I grin at the quip. “Friends worry about each other, Blondie.”

Skylar eyes me at my new nickname for her but doesn’t turn it down like the others. All she says is, “I’m not blonde.”

I snicker. “It still works. Blondie.” I rub my chin and nod. “My friends will probably call you something else when you meet them, but this can be our thing.”

“When I meet your friends?” Her head shakes rapidly, making one of those loose strands of hair fall into her face. I itch to reach over and move it for her but force myself to keep my hands to myself.

“Yep. We’re friends, remember? So, you’ll meet my other friends. Mostly guys from the team. Not all of them.” I can think of a few I’d keep her far, far away from. Wallace comes to mind as the top spot, but there are other horndogs on the team that I wouldn’t want her around unless at least ten feet separated them.

“No, I’m—”

“Aw, they’re not that bad.” And it’s true. Aiden, Caleb, and our captain, Justin Brady, are good people. Over half the guys who live at the house are easy to get along with. A little loud. A little too obsessed with Call of Duty. But still overall okay humans. “You met Aiden. He was the giant with me when you, er, left the house that one time. He may not seem it, but the guy is a total teddy bear. I swear.”

Maybe that’s a little bit of a lie, but I feel the need to convince her. Why? I don’t know. I’ve never actively tried getting a girl to meet my friends before. Mostly because there’s never been one who seems cool enough that I’d want to hang with. Hook up with? Sure. But the girls I did that with were a little dense. I may not know Skylar that well, but she doesn’t seem like any of the women I’ve stripped bare and became physically acquainted with.