I shrug a shoulder, attempting to appear casual. “Survival.”
Another glance. “That’s all?”
“Pretty much,” I quip, turning away. I don’t want to talk about that anymore. Frankly, I don’t want to talk about me. “What about you? What were your dreams?”
“To be a race car driver,” he deadpans. I snort, and then slap my hand over my mouth in embarrassment. That wasn’t very lady like. Ryan hates when I snort.
It doesn’t feel so bad when he gives me a full smile in return though. In fact, it makes me want to start snorting like a pig. He’s got beautiful white teeth, and sharp canines. Staring at his mouth makes me wonder what it’s capable of.
God, I’m being weird. I turn away quickly. That smile is a fucking weapon capable of complete annihilation on my resolve. I still don’t like him, nor do I want to start.
“What about when you got older?” I push.
“A detective.”
“And how’d that work out for you?”
“I succeeded.”
I pause and turn back to him. “You’re a detective?” I ask incredulously.
He nods and turns back to a dusty shelf. There’s nothing to see there. I’d like to think I’m much more interesting to look at than a dusty shelf.
I don’t know why I’m shocked by his career. Considering he found what class I’m in. And when… it makes complete sense.
“Is that how you found out where I go to college? And what class I’m taking?”
He has the nerve to look a little sheepish. “I may have utilized my position for nefarious purposes,” he admits, flashing me a sinful smile.
Fuck. Stop that.
“Why did you seek me out?”
“If I say I’m concerned about you, would you believe me?”
I scoff. “Absolutely not. You don’t even know me. And you were pretty rude the first time we met.”
He stuffs his hands into his pockets again. “I don’t know you. But I know my brother. And that’s enough.” He scuffs the thinly carpeted floor with the tip of his worn black boot, staring down as he contemplates something else. “As for the way I treated you, you took Ryan’s side and treated me with hostility after saying two words to me. I reacted accordingly.” He glances up at me, those emerald green eyes pinning me to the spot. The corner of his eyes crinkle as a smirk slides across his face.
“You’re still hostile,” he tacks on. I cross my arms, unimpressed with his assessment—and only proving his point. I am hostile. “I hope Ryan didn’t say too many horrible things about me. I’m curious what kind of story he spun this time to make him out to be the victim.”
“I don’t want to talk about him,” I bite out, annoyed with the fact that Ryan didn’t even bother to spin a story for me. I came in here to be peaceful. This isn’t peaceful.
He nods and walks over to a corner with a dusty bench. He plops down on it, not giving a single shit about the dust coating the wood. Ryan would never. Matter of fact, I don’t think he would’ve even stepped foot inside this building.
Hesitantly, I sit next to him, as far away from him on the bench as it allows. Which is admittedly not very much space when his body takes up three quarters of it.
Fucking mammoth.
A slow smirk slides across his face, but he doesn’t comment. Can’t be sure if he can tell what I’m thinking, but sometimes it feels like it. I want to do something with that smirk. Slap it off, or… something. I don’t know what, but I know I shouldn’t be feeling it.
“Are you going to arrest me for breaking and entering, Detective?” I ask mockingly.
He snickers, a wicked smile stretching across his face. He’s too goddamn good-looking. I’m tempted to take a knife to his face. “If you end up in my handcuffs, it won’t be because I’m arresting you.”
Explosions of hot lava course through my veins and straight between my legs. I squeeze my thighs and shift uncomfortably. Asshole.
Again, I turn away.