We’re about halfway to Mom’s when the conversation ebbs and music from the radio fills the cabin of the truck. Now that I’m no longer distracted by the back and forth of our banter, I become acutely aware of Carson. I turn toward the window and focus on the passing scenery. I have no idea how I’ll make it through the next few hours in his presence. For an evening that was supposed to be relaxing, it’s turned out to be the complete opposite.
Thick tension blankets the atmosphere until it becomes suffocating. Unable to sit still, I shift restlessly on my seat and wonder if my brother and his girlfriend feel it as well. Normally, when the four of us are together, there’s a lot of joking, laughing, and lighthearted discussions.
That’s not the case tonight.
If I had realized Carson would be joining us, I would have come up with an excuse and bailed on the evening.
I don’t have to glance in his direction to know his gaze is burning holes into me. I can practically feel the intensity of his scrutiny. I grit my teeth, refusing to give him the time of day. The humiliation of what happened at the Sigma Epsilon party is still fresh enough in my memory to make me wish the leather seat would open up and swallow me whole. I can’t imagine looking him in the eyes without being forced to remember the incident in full Technicolor clarity. And our run-in the other day at the Roasted Bean certainly didn’t help matters. It only made everything worse, which I didn’t believe was possible. It’s painful to admit that our relationship has careened so far out of its orbit it will never be the same again.
“What’s going on with your professor?”
Even though his voice is nothing more than a gruff whisper, it sounds like a gunshot in the echoing silence of the truck.
I jerk my head until my wide gaze can slam into his.
Oh my god...did he really just ask that?
Brayden frowns from the front seat as his attention fastens onto mine in the rearview mirror. “Are you having a problem with one of your teachers?”
My heartbeat pounds into overdrive as my gaze narrows before slicing back to the guy next to me. If only there were a way to smite him on the spot. When Brayden continues to stare, waiting for an answer, I ground out, “Nope. Everything’s fine.”
Unconvinced, my brother’s attention slides to his friend for the truth. “Is there something going on that I need to know about?”
A groan gurgles up from my chest as I slump on my seat.
Carson’s gaze stays pinned to mine.
Just when I think he might brush off the question, he says instead, “Elle was at the Roasted Bean the other day with one of her instructors. The guy couldn’t have sat any closer to her if he tried.”
Heat floods into my cheeks as I shoot daggers at him. “He was helping me with homework,” I ground out. “That’s it. Dr. Holloway is my stats professor—it’s his job to help me. He actually gets paid for it. And we were in the middle of a crowded coffee shop on campus. If you’re trying to insinuate that something was going on, you couldn’t be more wrong.”
Brayden’s lips flatten as he stares straight ahead. I can almost see the wheels in his head turning. “Is that the only time you’ve met with him outside of class?”
I press my lips together as my head falls back against the cushion and I stare at the ceiling.
“Elle?” Brayden’s voice sharpens.
“This entire conversation is ridiculous,” I grumble, not wanting to lie. Although, there’s no way I can tell him the truth. “I can’t believe you think—”
“That’s not an answer,” my brother fires back.
Carson shifts toward me on his seat. “When?”
“What?” It’s tempting to snap my teeth at him. I’m so aggravated by this line of questioning. Why couldn’t he have kept his big mouth shut? Why does he have to cause more problems for me?
“When else did you spend time together?”
“We never,” I raise both hands in order to make air quotes around the first three words, “spent time together. You’re blowing the entire situation out of proportion.” I am so over this conversation.
And Carson.
The guy can take a flying leap for all I care.
He twists toward me, looming closer. “When was it?”
“Answer the question, Elle,” my brother cuts in.
“After the Sig Ep party,” I growl. “I was walking home, and he stopped and gave me a ride. That’s it. All right?”
“Why would you walk home alone?” my brother asks. “You know how dangerous that is. I was at that party. You could have texted, and I would have given you a lift to the dorms.” There’s a pause before he adds, “Carson was there, too. He would have made sure you got home safely.”