Beg You to Trust Me (Lindon U #2)(41)

“Oh, it’s true,” I confirm. Grandma Meadow didn’t say a word as she turned around and closed the door behind her. The next day I found a bottle of lube and box of tissues on my bed. “I couldn’t look at her for a solid week after it happened.”

Skylar nods slowly. “I bet.”

“I could keep going, you know. There was one time when one of my friends walked in while I was—”

“No! Stop!” She snorts then giggles before dropping back down onto her back. “I can’t believe you told me that. But I needed the laugh, so thank you.”

“Anytime, Blondie.” Hearing her laugh is more than worth it. “You are good, right? Because I could borrow Caleb’s truck and take you somewhere if you need me to. I know I was an asshole on Friday, but I really didn’t mean it. I’ll do whatever it takes to prove that to you.”

Her body stiffens on the bed before loosening as she turns onto her side and looks at me from where her head is propped up against the pillow. “You mean that, don’t you?”

I frown. “Of course, I do.”

The humming noise she makes as she watches me carefully is the only thing that fills the room between us. That and whatever her suitemates are watching outside.

Eventually, she sighs. “I’m okay. Olive took me to get seen already. But I appreciate the offer.” There’s a pause. “Really. I don’t know many people that’d do that.”

My brows pinch. “Then you need better people in your life, Sky.”

She doesn’t argue with me.

I lean back and perch my elbows on the edge of her desk behind me. “Who’s your celebrity crush?”

A small smile curls up her lips. “Selena Gomez can totally get it.”

The unexpected answer makes me laugh until her smile stretches higher. “We’re going to get along just fine,” I determine.

But I already knew that from day one, which is probably why I wished she was a jersey chaser. Easier to ignore that way.

Her hands rest under her cheek. “I didn’t think you wanted to be my friend when you drove away,” she admits quietly, eyes looking a little cloudy from the thought. “But if you’re here, I guess that’s not the case.”

Pressing my lips together, I shake my head as I watch her face go back to its natural color.

It’s then and there I’m determined to prove to her just how much I want to be in her life. Friend or not. Preferably as more, but I’d take as much as she’ll give me.

I make a cross over my chest. “I promise I’ll be better. I let my emotions get the better of me and you didn’t deserve it. But name the price, and I’ll pay it. Want me to do your nails? I can figure it out.”

She nibbles her lip, fighting the smile that I know wants to widen. “No, Danny, I don’t want you to paint my nails. You’ll just mess them up and I’ll have to fix them.”

Danny. “Fair. Movie, then?”

“You want to watch a movie?”

My shoulder lifts. “It’s either that or gossip about guys. I doubt you want to talk about other stuff with me. Your pick.”

She doesn’t hesitate. “I’ve got Netflix on my laptop.” Sitting up, she pats the empty spot on her bed in silent invitation.

I happily plop down beside her, using the wall her bed is up against to rest my back on. “I don’t like people calling me Danny normally,” I admit, settling in. “But I like it coming from you.”

She pauses logging into her laptop to glance at me. “Okay…Danny.”

All I do is smile.





CHAPTER FIFTEEN





SKYLAR





Olive texts me which room she’s in as I weave through the maze of book stacks until I spot the right door.

Spotting the Styrofoam cup in my hands, Olive wiggles her perfectly sculpted brows before yanking out packages of candy from her backpack and proudly holding them up. “I brought contraband too.”

The library doesn’t mind food and drinks inside so long as they’re not next to the expensive computers they offer students to use in the labs. I don’t take the fun away from her, though, so I note the different sugar options she brought and wonder if she robbed the campus store before coming here. “Did you get one of every option?”

“I’m indecisive.” She throws me a Reese’s cup. “You might as well claim that. I saw the half-empty jar of peanut butter on your nightstand the other day. Do you just eat it plain?”

“Doesn’t everybody?” I remark. The first time Becca saw me pull out the jar of my favorite creamy peanut butter, she eyed me distastefully but didn’t say a word as I grabbed a plastic spoon and dove in.

Olive blanches. “Uh. No.”

I shrug, unfazed by her disgust.

Her eyes roll. Today the sea green orbs have cat-wing black liner around them and shiny pale pink dusted across the lids. She taught me the same liner method and I almost have it down, wearing it today in a less impressive manner than her.

“So,” I pry, peeling open the candy wrapper and carefully removing the chocolate cup. “Are you ever going to tell me about what went down with you and Alex?”

Olive feigns an innocent look as she leans her chin on the palm of her hand. “Are you going to tell me what happened between you and Daniel Bridges?”