She looks up from her phone, as if she’s surprised by the sudden conversation. Makes sense, I guess. It’s gotta suck transferring halfway through your senior year.
“Knox, hi.” A blush blooms on her cheeks, and fuck me, but I mentally catalog the myriad ways I can make her recreate that blush.
“You got tickets to spare?” Yep, that’s me, Captain Obvious, here for all your redundant needs.
“I do. I actually won’t need any of mine, so if you need them, feel free,” she says, waving an envelope in my direction. I’m half-tempted to take it, just to hold her hand in mine, though I also have tickets to spare.
“Looks like we’re in the same club again,” I tell her. “My mom and step-dad are heading out of town this weekend, and traffic’s not as bad Friday morning, so yea… no need for these,” I say, flashing my own envelope. A look passes between us, and it occurs to me that Willa and I understand each other in a lot of ways, though we’re barely more than acquaintances.
But I plan on changing that.
“You heading to work again?” I ask, praying the answer is no.
And fuck me running, but I get my wish.
“Actually, no. I don’t have to go in until four, which is good. The tips are always better in the evenings, anyway.”
“Awesome. So, there’s a picnic party thing over at the lake. My friends are heading over, and I thought maybe you might wanna come, too?”
“Oh, no thanks,” she says quickly. Which, ouch. “I brought lunch and I planned on reading for a while. But thanks.”
I smile at her. God, she’s freaking adorable with those pink cheeks and big eyes and long lashes. “You can bring your lunch along. No pressure to eat anything they’re cooking. In fact, you’re probably in better shape than the rest of us will be. Tommy said they’re doing a hog roast and I just can’t see that ending well.”
“That’s sweet of you, but I don't really know anyone, and I’d just spend the afternoon feeling awkward in a crowd. So, I’ll sit this one out and get lost in my book instead.”
“You sure?” I look around the lobby at our classmates. “Do not let these assholes intimidate you.”
“Nah, it’s not that. But we graduate in a few days. It’s a little late to make friends, don’t you think?” There’s something in her tone, some thread of hope that maybe she wants to spend time with me as much as I want to spend time with her.
“Nope,” I say, smiling.
“Well,” she bites her bottom lip, and my dick takes notice, “if you don’t feel like going to the picnic, and you feel like sharing PB&J with me and my romance novel, I’ll be in the courtyard.”
Willa’s next in line, so she steps up to the table to drop her tickets off, then I do the same after tapping out a quick text to Tommy.
Knox: Just got a way better lunch offer. Later, asshole.
She turns to face me, and I offer her a smile. “You, me, and a romance novel. Let’s do this.”
“Don’t forget the PB&J,” she says, as I open the door and stand back as she passes through. My arm brushes her waist, and the contact is electric.
“Now that you mention it, I’m starving,” I tell her, though food is the last thing on my mind.
* * *
Willa
Good Lord, he’s gorgeous. I knew that yesterday, but damn. He doesn’t look like a high school student. He looks like he just stepped out of the pages of a magazine. He’s not too tall, but he’s got plenty of height on me, and he’s lean, with muscular arms painted in tattoos. He’s got the body of a runner, or maybe a swimmer. I don’t know. The guy looks like he knows his way around a gym, but not in a meathead sort of way. And his face? He looks like a Greek god, all chiseled features and hard lines. His hair is thick and dark—nearly black. There’s a little scruff around his chin and his smile is slightly crooked and totally lethal. But it’s those eyes that get me. They’re so intense—dark brown and framed with thick black lashes.
And it’s those eyes that have me walking out the door with him and into the courtyard. It’s those eyes that have me sprawling out next to him on the grass and unpacking my lunch, even though I know it’s foolish to do so.
Because yea, lunch in the schoolyard with a guy is hardly a lifetime commitment. I know that. But another look into Knox’s eyes makes me think I don’t ever want to look anywhere else.
And that’s dangerous.
Because I’m not staying here. And I’m not dating. I’m not even hooking up. My eyes are firmly trained on the future and nothing—not even those gorgeous brown eyes—is going to make me stray from my plan.
Knox stretches out before me, props his elbow on the ground, and rests his head in his hand, looking totally at home, totally at ease.
