Trust in Me

I glanced over my shoulder. “With friends, yes, and we’re friends, aren’t we, Avery?”


She studied me for a few moments and then placed her fork down. “Yeah, we’re friends.”

“Finally!” I shouted. “You’ve finally admitted that we are friends. It’s only taken a week.”

“We’ve only known each other for a week.”

“Still took a week.”

As I started devouring my eggs, she questioned me on how long it took for me to declare best-friend status. Sitting back at the table, I met her curious stare. “It usually takes me about five minutes before we’ve moved on to best-friend status.”

A tiny smile appeared on her lips. “Then I guess I’m just the odd one.”

“Maybe.”

“I guess it’s different for you.”

“Hmm?” I peeled the last piece of shell off the egg.

“I bet you have girls hanging all over you. Dozens would probably kill to be in my spot and here I am, allergic to your bread.”

I looked up. “Why? Because of my near godlike perfection?”

She laughed outright, and that goddamn knot was back in my chest. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

Shrugging, I chuckled. “I don’t know. Don’t really think about it.”

“You don’t think about it at all?”

“Nope.” I popped the egg in my mouth and then wiped my hands on a napkin. “I only think about it when it matters.”

Her gaze bounced off of mine as she toyed with her glass. “So you’re a reformed player?”

“What makes you think that?”

“I heard you were quite the player in high school.”

“Really? Who did you hear that from?”

“None of your business.”

I took a deep breath. Her tongue was sharp as a blade. “With that mouth of yours, you don’t have a lot of friends, do you?”

Shortcake flinched. “No. I wasn’t really popular in high school.”

Aw fuck, now I felt like a dick. I dropped my egg onto the plate. “Shit. I’m sorry. That was an asshole thing for me to say.”

She shook her head.

I watched her as I picked up the egg and peeled it, unable to figure her out. “Hard to believe though that you weren’t. You can be funny and nice when you’re not insulting me and you’re a pretty girl. Actually, you’re really hot.”

“Ah . . . thanks.” She wiggled in her seat.

“I’m serious. You said your parents were strict. They didn’t let you hang out in high school?” I popped the other egg in. Needed my protein. “I still can’t imagine you not being popular in high school. You rock the trifecta—smart, funny, and hot.”

“I wasn’t. Okay?” Sitting the glass down, she started fiddling with the hem on her shorts. “I was like the very opposite of popular.”

Unsure of what to think about that comment, I peeled the third egg. I’d seen her around campus with a girl I went to high school with and Jacob Massey. It wasn’t like she was incapable of making friends. “I am sorry, Avery. That . . . that sucks. High school is a big deal.”

“Yeah, it is. You had a lot of friends?”

I nodded. I had a busload of friends.

“Still talk to them?”

“Some of them. Ollie and I went to high school together, but he spent his first two years at WVU and transferred down here and I see a few around campus and back home.”

She huddled in on herself, looking incredibly small. “Have any brothers or sisters?”

“A sister.” I went for the final egg, smiling. “She’s younger than me. Just turned eighteen. She graduates this year.”

“You guys close?”

“Yeah, we’re close.” I liked that she was asking me questions, but talking about my sister made me think of other things. “She means a lot to me. How about you? A big brother I have to worry about visiting and kicking my ass for being here?”

One side of her lips curved up. “No. I’m an only child. Have a cousin who’s older, but I doubt he’d do that.”

“Ah, good.” I finished off the last egg, leaned back and patted my stomach. “Where you from?” When she didn’t answer, I decided I was so not letting this go. I wanted to know her. Exchange of information was necessary. “Okay. You obviously know where I’m from if you’ve heard of my extracurricular activities in high school, but I’ll just confirm it. I’m from the Fort Hill area. Never heard of that? Well, most people haven’t. It’s near Morgantown. Why didn’t I go to WVU? Everyone wants to know that. Just wanted to get away, but be somewhat close to my family. And yes, I was . . . very busy in high school.”

“You’re not anymore?”

“Depends on who you ask.” I laughed. “Yeah, I don’t know. When I was a freshman—those first couple of months, being around all the older girls? I probably put more effort into them than I did my classes.”

She grinned. “But not now?”

I shook my head and went back to what I wanted to know. “So where are you from?”

Shortcake sighed. “I’m from Texas.”