Chapter 12
Justin
A few minutes before eleven, I walk into the coffee shop next to the bookstore. It’s packed with students working on laptops. In Michigan, when it hits fifty degrees, the people come out in droves. Though I’m early—Romeo was shocked when I got out of bed before ten—I notice Allie already sitting in a corner. Her head is bent over a computer. Her auburn hair shines under the sunlight streaming through the window. My eyes narrow on the cup on her table. I’m kind of pissed she didn’t let me buy her a coffee. Like she’s stating this isn’t a date. Because it’s morning? Because it’s coffee? As far as I’m concerned, it is a date. I’ve never met a chick for coffee. I don’t even like coffee.
Suddenly, I’m annoyed. Not as bad as at the art show, but I’m definitely not happy. Allie and her mixed messages are fucking with my head. I don’t get fucked with. Ever. I whip off my sunglasses and stalk past the girl waiting behind the counter, heading to where Allie’s sitting. Another girl I don’t recognize tries to get my attention on the way, but I ignore her. I slide onto the stool next to Allie, and her gaze rises from the screen of her laptop.
“Mornin’,” I say, keeping my attitude somewhat in check.
“Hey.” She offers a slight smile. But those gray eyes are guarded. Always so guarded.
“Thought I was buying,” I say, pointing to her cup.
She shifts her legs and crosses a long jeans-clad leg over the other. One of the boots I’ve wanted to tear off her for a week now tucks behind her calf. She casually slides a curl behind an ear. “Thought we were just meeting for conversation.”
Her offhanded attitude doesn’t halt my rising anger. I lean toward her. Close enough to smell her familiar flowery scent. “That was before you shoved me against a rail and stuck your tongue down my throat.”
The guarded expression in her gray eyes gives way to shock. Her lips part in surprise and I can see the sexy hoop curving around the inside of her lip.
I inch closer and say in a low tone, “Unless the kiss was as fake as our date?” I trace her lip ring with my index finger. “But then, I didn’t see Trevor around.”
Her eyes change again. Fury fills them. She jumps off her stool, snaps the laptop closed, and reaches for her bag. While I smirk at her, she jams the laptop in the bag. “Fu—screw you, Justin,” she hisses, yanking the bag onto her shoulder, then rushing out of the coffee shop.
People around me stare. I don’t give a shit.
My anger drops as I notice her lone coffee cup.
Releasing a sigh at my own stupidity, I grab the cup and race out the door too. It only takes me a moment to catch sight of her gracefully hurrying across campus. I’m almost to her as she rounds the corner of the science building.
“You forgot your coffee,” I say, catching up with her.
She stops abruptly and snatches the drink out of my hand.
“Listen—”
She turns to go and I reach for her arm.
“Wait. I’m sorry. I was an asshole. You just seem to be jerking me around.”
She wiggles my hand loose but turns to me. “Jerking you around?”
“Cold then hot then cold again.”
She bites her lip ring and slowly adjusts the bag on her shoulder. “I…already apologized for the night at the studio twice. And you know I was a bit drunk on Saturday. I know that doesn’t excuse my behavior.…”
“You don’t need to excuse your behavior. I liked your behavior,” I say, then grin lopsidedly, which most girls find irresistible for whatever reason. When the power of the grin brings only a raised barbell in her brow instead of the usual smitten response, I add, “I want to do something with you. No fake dates. No ex-husbands. No fan girls interrupting us. Just us.”
She lets out a sigh. “Why?”
Funny how my grin didn’t work but honesty did.
“Why?” I shove my hands into my jeans pockets. “I think it’s obvious I’m extremely attracted to you.”
“I’ve heard your attraction to the opposite sex is boundless. Besides, since when do you date?”
Fuck. I don’t want to imagine what she’s heard about me or if she’s just making assumptions, but I’m not even going there. I rub my jaw and decide to be straightforward for once. “I usually don’t.” Her expression remains confused. “But maybe you’re the exception,” I say, startled by my own admission.
She blinks, then her head shakes slightly. “Justin…”
I lean down until our eyes are inches apart. “Come on, Allie. Go out with me. Saturday. I’m practically begging here.”
Her hand tightens around the coffee cup between us. She holds it like a shield. “I work Saturday.”
“Until…”
“Ten.”
I step back. “Then I’ll pick you up at the shop.”
Her chin drops. “I didn’t say I’d go.”
“You were going to.”
She takes a long sip of coffee as those guarded eyes study me. “I can’t stay out late.”
To say I’m relieved she has agreed to go would be an understatement. “I’ll have you home before the Beemer turns back into a pumpkin.”
She shakes her head. “You’ll have to take me back to my car, so how about I meet you?”
Her reluctance sets me on edge again, but instead of acting pissy, I blurt, “You’re killing my ego here.”
She sighs. “All right, you can pick me up.”
I rock back and forth in my Chucks. “Since I screwed that up,” I gesture to the coffee shop with my chin, “let me walk you to your car?”
“Um…sure,” she says slowly.
Her hesitance is the snap of a whip to my confidence, and it leaves a welt and a sharp sting.
As we walk together toward the parking lot, I consider whether her reluctance has to do with Trevor—or my reputation. I’m not sure which would be worse. Either I’m a prick or a jealous prick. And either I have to beat Trevor out or convince her my rep doesn’t matter.
This is going to have to be one hell of a date. My brain flips through some ideas as we walk.
“So tell me,” I say as we pass the circular fountain in the middle of campus. “You like wine?”
“It’s okay.”
“Red or white?”
“Ah…either.”
“Sweet or dry.”
“Sweet or dry what?”
“Wine.”
“Oh.” She glances at me. “Guess I should be honest. I don’t know crap about wine. Rarely drink it.”
I could bring up sparkling gummy worms, but except for our hot kiss, between her tears and my temper that night is best forgotten. “All right. How about chocolate? Milk or dark?”
“Chocolate?”
“You know the rich, smooth candy that sometimes comes in a bar.”
Allie’s lips curve into a soft smile. “Both.”
A couple of girls walking toward us stare, then stop and whisper like schoolgirls. As we get closer, I realize I’ve slept with the taller one. Though I don’t recall her name, I remember her long legs.
“Hey, Justin,” she says. I nod. She gives Allie the once-over. “I’m still waiting for that call.”
Fuck. Of course, this shit would come up now. I keep walking. “Sorry. Must have lost your number.” Once we’re past the girls and on the asphalt of the parking lot, Allie gives me a pointed look. Hands still in my pockets, I roll out a stiff shrug. “I can’t help who gives me their number.”
“Ah, girls throw their numbers at you?”
I shrug again. “Comes with being in a band.”
“Sounds high schoolish.”
Bitch slap to the ego. My confidence stinging from the snap of her whip. I let out a deep breath. Stay calm. “Yeah, sometimes it feels that way.”
Allie stops behind a black midsize sedan. I’d expect something flashier, what with her owning a business, and a tattoo shop at that. She turns to me. “Well, I guess I’ll see you Saturday.”
I pluck my glasses from my shirt collar. “Pick you up out front?”
“No. There’s a parking lot behind the shop.”
“All right. Dress warm.”
“Warm? What are we doing?”
I give her a slow smirk. “You’ll find out Saturday,” I say, turning back toward the dorms. Though I want to, I don’t look back. A man has to have some pride. Pulling out my phone, I check the time. My walk turns faster. Jade and Bridget, a cute pair of freshman girls, are probably already outside my dorm room, anxiously waiting for my dirty clothes. I haven’t done my own laundry in over two years—a bit of flirting and a few free tickets gets a girl every time. I start jogging. I’m not about to start doing laundry.