Beg You to Trust Me (Lindon U #2)(40)

She keeps it open as I study the small space she shares with the piece of work currently sitting outside the room. Somehow, I know quickly which side is hers before I even walk over and look at the pictures on her desk.

It’s the colors. Bright like her.

The books all lined up strategically. She told me before she loves to read.

When I pick up the picture frame, my eyebrows dart upward at the clones surrounding a blonde version of Skylar in the image. “Christ, genetics did your family a solid.”

There’s a quiet snort coming from behind me that causes me to turn and watch her sit on the edge of her unmade bed. Has she been sleeping all day? “Yeah, we get that a lot.”

I set the frame back down where I found it. “They’re all pretty, don’t get me wrong, but I think you take the cake, Blondie. I never liked flashy women much and based on that picture alone it seems like they’re the opposite of your laid-back personality.” Seriously, one of them is in brand name designer sportswear holding a tennis racket, and another one is covered in gold jewelry that looks more expensive than my Jeep back home.

She doesn’t offer any insight as to if I’m right, so I switch gears. “You didn’t come to class.”

Her eyes drop from mine to stare at nothing in particular on the floor. “I wasn’t feeling very well.”

Something tells me that’s not entirely true, but I don’t know whether or not to call her out on it. “He’s going to deduct from your grade if you keep skipping. You already ran out once.”

When a shoulder lifts, I frown.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” I prod, crossing my arms over my chest. “That’s what friends do, isn’t it? They talk about what’s bugging them.”

Her nostrils twitch. “Last time we spoke you didn’t seem to like what I had to say.”

My arms drop to my sides. “I can’t imagine a lot of people in my position would like hearing that.”

Her lips curve even further down.

I walk over and nudge her leg with mine before saying, “We should probably talk about that. What you said.”

Sky’s eyes dart between me and the door.

Sighing, I walk over and close it so people—namely her roommate—won’t eavesdrop on whatever Skylar is hesitant about. When the door clicks shut, I hear giggles from outside it and an enthused, “Shits about to go down in there.”

I roll my eyes at their cracked assumptions. When I turn back to the only other person in the room, her hands are twisted in her lap and her shoulders are hunched.

Not sure how to broach the topic, I decide to try lightening the mood. “The first time I ever got drunk here, I woke up spooning one of my teammates on the living room floor of the football house. Had no fucking idea how I got there. All I knew was that I had morning wood and a massive hangover and there was a dude pressed against places I definitely didn’t want him touching.”

A choking sound comes from her throat as she eyes me. Pink creeps into her cheeks as she shakes her head. “Why are you telling me this?”

I shrug. “Because I want you to know that we all do dumb things when we’re finally given some freedom. I know I poke fun, but I’m being real. We’re not defined by the decisions we make when we let loose. We’re bound to make some mistakes, but we learn from them and move on.”

She blinks, contemplative. “Your situation and mine are different. You got drunk and woke up cuddling someone. I…” The color in her cheeks deepens, spreading all across her face before she lets her hair fall around her like a forcefield for protection. “I woke up alone and found out a couple weeks later that the guy I slept with gave me an—” The words cram in her throat. “You know. An…” She murmurs the words in a shallow whisper, but I hear the letters anyway.

S.T.D.

I knew it already but hearing her say it makes me rage even more than I was all week. It’s been stewing, boiling in my blood.

Our situations aren’t similar. The outcomes of each were about as fucking different as you could get. “Are you okay now?” I ask quietly, despite wanting to figure out who the fuck the guy is so I can have a one-on-one with him. Her tomato red face picks up to meet mine skeptically. “You got…seen?”

The groan coming from her is drawn out as she flops backward. Her hands cup her face, the words she murmurs through her palms muffled. “Most friends gossip about their celeb crushes and favorite movies before they get to this stuff.”

I can’t help but crack a grin. “Selena Gomez can get it anytime she wants, and I don’t have a favorite movie. I guess if I had to choose it’d probably be Ocean’s Eight because Sandra Bullock is up there in celeb crushes too. Maybe The Proposal if she and Ryan Reynolds can be a package deal. I wouldn’t mind waking up next to him in the morning.”

All I get is silence, so I pull out her computer chair and sit in it backwards, straddling the back of it to face her. “And I’m shooting for best friend status, so it’s no wonder we’re getting to the heavy-hitter topics. Like the time my grandma walked in on me jerking it.”

She sputters out a laugh. “Oh my God! Why would you tell me that?”

I snort at her obvious secondhand embarrassment. “I knew it’d make you laugh.”

She sits up on her elbows. “So, it’s not true?” Her tone stings with disappointment.