“Originally, I was texting my cousin, and I guess I wasn’t paying too much attention. A text came through asking me what I was doing that night, and me thinking I was still texting my cousin, texted back that I was going to the homecoming game. I didn’t think anything of it, but then the next thing I know it’s an interrogation about who I was going with, what time, etcetera. Before I realized it wasn’t my cousin I was texting with anymore, it was too late.” She cringes, looking guilty.
Ahh, that explains it.
“From there, Quinton called me, and I couldn’t really lie at that point. He came over just as Olivia was picking me up and he tagged along. I’m sorry,” she apologizes sincerely.
I shake my head, dismissively waving my hand with the coffee in it, the ice clanking against the side of the cup. “It’s all right, Dee. I’m sure he would have found some other way to crash anyway,” I admit bitterly.
Her lips purse ruefully, and she nods. “Still. And I’m sorry I couldn’t hold him back when you guys went to the truck. You two looked pretty preoccupied when he stormed over,” she says, her lips twitching into a knowing grin.
I huff out a laugh, shoving a hand into the front pocket of my jeans. “Yeah, the guy has got great timing.”
She lets out a laugh, expression sobering after. “You were going to kiss her, huh?”
I take a sip of my coffee, trying to hide any emotions on my face. “Maybe,” I muse.
She grins, eyes twinkling. “I knew it.”
“Did she say anything about it?” I ask, figuring I may have a chance of getting some dirt on Olivia from her.
She tries to smother her grin, failing. “She’s my best friend, you know I can’t rat her out,” she says, and I can’t help but frown.
“But.” Delilah looks over both of her shoulders, making sure no one is lingering, eavesdropping on our conversation. “Let’s just say she was pretty bummed to have to go home early,” she says, keeping her voice down.
She flashes me a smile, purposefully bumping her shoulder with mine as she brushes past me, walking away. I spin on my heel and follow her, matching her strides.
“Really?” I ask, a huge grin forming on my lips. I was hoping there was a possibility she wanted to kiss me back. If not, that would have been awkward as fuck and I would have felt awful.
“Mh-mm,” she hums, taking a sip of her iced caramel macchiato. “That was a smart move, you know? The bet. Although next time I’d really up the ante.” She grins mischievously. “The jersey was cute, but you can do better.”
I match her grin. “Oh, I plan to.”
>> <<
After English, I follow Olivia to the library to study. We walk across campus, the air chillier now that fall has arrived. The trees have just started changing colors, and leaves are falling and swirling around in the breeze.
With the temperature change, Olivia has exchanged her staple T-shirts for sweaters, looking adorable and cozy. She’s wearing a cream-colored one today paired with black jeans and tall brown boots, and her long caramel-colored hair is tied back in a braid.
“You know,” I say as we walk up the library steps, “you could have worn my hoodie today.”
“Shoot, I forgot to bring it in to give it back to you,” she says worriedly.
“Don’t worry about it,” I assure her. “I don’t want it back. The jersey, though, as much as I’d love for you to keep it, I don’t think Coach would be too happy to have a jersey missing.”
“I’ll get it back to you,” she promises.
We walk into the library and grab our usual table tucked away in the back corner. She pulls out all of her study materials, getting everything set up.
Flipping through pages of the textbook, Olivia sketches out a quick outline of topics to go over, referring back to our notes. I watch as she scribbles and highlights, my mind running a little wild whenever she pauses to think, pressing the end of her pen to her bottom lip.
Those lips. They look so soft, so inviting.
My mind wanders back to the other night, how it felt to be standing between her thighs, my hands running up and down them. How it felt to have her hands on my body. And when her breath mingled with mine at one point . . .
Damn. I want those lips on mine. To sink my teeth into her bottom lip and suck, letting my tongue—
“Bronx?” Olivia’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts. I look up to see her looking at me expectantly.
I clear my throat, adjusting in my seat and sitting up straighter. “Yep?”
