Campus Hottie (Campus)

“No.”

He blinks before scowling as if he didn’t hear me correctly. “What?”

“I said no,” I reiterate, louder this time. “We’re actually on our way to get something to eat. I didn’t have a chance to grab dinner and the caf is now closed.” I give a tiny shrug as if it can’t be helped.

“The hell you are,” he grounds from between clenched teeth.

When he advances another step so that we’re practically toe to toe, I straighten to my full height, refusing to be intimidated. Even if I’d been waffling over joining him for dinner, I’ll be damned if I allow Carson to force me into canceling my plans.

“I’m going, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me,” I blurt, hardening my stance.

“Elle,” he growls.

I stab a finger at his rock-hard chest. “I’m not your sister, and I sure as hell aren’t your girlfriend.” When a tiny pang of sadness attempts to bloom in my chest, I snuff it out.

Just as he opens his mouth to argue, I swing around and stalk toward the BMW. Tension seeps into every line of my body as my ears prick for the slightest noise. As I close the distance to the car, I pray that Carson doesn’t scoop me up and carry me to his truck, which I now realize is parked a few rows over in the deserted lot. That would be the ultimate embarrassment. And I’ve already suffered more than enough at his hands.

My fingers tremble as they wrap around the handle and yank it open. I release a pent-up breath as our gazes collide across the distance that separates us. His stony glare stays fastened on mine as I slide onto the leather seat and slam the door shut, locking myself inside with the older man.

Only then does the air escape from my lungs in a torrent as I slump onto the seat.

What I hate most is that this feels like a mistake. One I’ll probably end up regretting in the not-so-distant future.

“Is everything all right?”

The quietly asked question startles me from my thoughts. I blink before pasting a thin smile across my face.

“Yup, it’s fine,” I lie.

“Are you sure?” His brow furrows as concern threads its way through his voice.

“Positive.” I just want to get out of here before all hell breaks loose. I have the feeling that Carson is in a weird state of shock because I didn’t immediately comply with his barked-out command. It’s only a matter of time before that changes.

When he glances out the window, I do the same. The blond football player is still standing in the parking lot, gaze glued to the vehicle. The wind rustles through his hair, mussing it.

“Is that your boyfriend?”

“Nope.” I shake my head. “Definitely not.”

“All right.” He tries again. “Maybe an ex-boyfriend?”

“No.” I flick my gaze toward Dr. Holloway, only to find him carefully watching me. I shift on my seat, reluctant to explain the situation. “He’s just someone I grew up with. He’s always been more like family.” The words taste bitter on my tongue. More than anything, I wish they were the truth. Life would be so much easier if that were the case.

“Would it be better if I dropped you off at the dorms and we skipped dinner? We could always do it another night.”

Probably. But I’ll be damned if I allow Carson to interfere in my life any more than he already has.

Screw him.

“No, it’s fine.”

He lifts a brow. “Are you sure?”

I force a smile to my lips. “Yes.”

With a nod, he shifts the BMW into drive, and we exit the parking lot. The more distance there is between Carson and me, the easier it is to breathe.

Chapter Fifteen

Carson

Another wave of shock crashes over me as I watch the red taillights disappear from the parking lot before fading into the distance.

What the hell just happened?

Did she seriously take off with that guy?

I thread both hands through my damp hair, tempted to rip the strands from my scalp.

It’s only when she vanishes from sight and it’s too late to do anything about it that I come alive.

Fuck.

I could fire off a dozen texts, but I already know she won’t respond. I’d hoped after the evening spent at her mom’s house that maybe our relationship had fallen back into place, but clearly that’s not the case.

Instead of continuing to stand like a slack-jawed idiot, I stalk to the Tahoe, wrench open the driver’s side door and slide behind the wheel before peeling out of the parking lot. Even if I wanted to follow them, the car is long gone. Left without any alternatives, I return to the house we rent off-campus. Everything that just happened churns in my head as I slam out of the truck and jog up the front porch stairs before shoving through the door. As soon as I do, voices assault my ears. A handful of guys are in the living room, chilling out, drinking beer, and playing video games. There are a couple boxes of pizza on the dining room table.