Campus God (Campus)

She narrows her eyes as if I’m not fooling her at all. “You’re thinking about that guy. What’s his name?” Before I can respond, she supplies the answer. “Chris.”

Heat floods into my cheeks.

“I can’t believe you two are still texting.”

Embarrassed, I huff out a breath before jerking my shoulders. “I like talking to him,” I mumble. “Why is it such a big deal?”

She jerks a brow and gives me a hard stare. “Because you’re not actually talking. You’re texting.”

“So?” I shift on my chair, wishing there were a way to shut down this conversation.

“So?” She leans forward, closing some of the distance between us. “What if he’s not who you think he is? What if you’re being,” her hand flutters in the air between us, “catfished or something like that?”

Catfished?

Oh, come on.

The look in her eyes tells me she’s as serious as a heart attack. The gurgle of laughter dies a slow death on my lips.

“What do you really know about him?”

“His name is Chris, and he’s an engineering student at Western.” I could rattle off a bunch of things, but I don’t want to share them with her.

“Are you the one who brought up going to school here or did he? Don’t you think it’s awfully coincidental that some random guy calls you and ends up attending the same university?”

A small pit settles at the bottom of my belly.

I don’t know…

Maybe?

Silently I dig through my memories, trying to recall who mentioned Western first. I think it might have been me.

“How do you even know that he’s a he?”

I…

Because he said his name was Chris and I just assumed.

When I press my lips together, her face scrunches and she spears me with a skeptical look.

“I don’t know, Brooke. I think it would be a good idea to pull back a bit and be more cautious where this person is concerned.” She drops her voice. “What if this guy is some creepy Russian dude halfway around the country who’s like seventy years old and wants to snatch you up for the sex trade? Have you even considered the possibility that you’re being played?”

The small pit in my belly grows until it’s roughly the size of Rhode Island. It takes effort to force out a weak chuckle. “I think you’ve been watching too many Lifetime movies.”

“Sometimes I watch Dateline, and everything I just said actually happens.” She raises a brow. “Especially to naïve college girls.”

“I’m not naïve,” I mumble, feeling like an idiot. I’ve seen the same news reports, and what she’s saying is true.

“How long was Andrew cheating on you before you finally figured it out?”

I wince, both surprised and hurt she would throw that in my face. “That’s a low blow.”

She releases a steady breath before reaching across the table and laying a hand over mine. “You’re right, it was. But it doesn’t make it any less true.”

As much as I hate to admit it, maybe Sasha is right. Maybe I’ve been way too trusting where Chris is concerned. It’s all together possible that he’s not who he claims to be. Just because I wouldn’t lie to a stranger, it doesn’t mean other people have the same standard of honesty. As painful as it is to admit, she’s right about Andrew. He lied to me for most of our relationship and I never questioned him.

“I’m not trying to be a downer here. Just get a little more information before this goes any further, okay? And for god’s sake, if you actually decide to meet up with him, do it on campus in a busy place during the daytime.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m not a complete idiot.”

Her expression softens. “I never said you were. I just want you to be careful, that’s all.”

“I know you’re thinking the worst, but I highly doubt he’s been lying to me.”

Sasha gives me a noncommittal grunt. “Time will tell, won’t it?”

I straighten, wishing I felt as confident as I’m trying to appear. “Yes, it will.”

“Hey. What are you two talking about?”

Startled by the deep voice, we glance up at Ryder, who has sidled up to the table we’re camped out at. When Sasha’s gaze flickers to me, I give my head a little shake. Even though I’m close with my cousin, he doesn’t need to know about this situation.

“Brooke has a little something-something going on—”

Argh!

“I do not,” I cut in. Sasha’s more than aware of how overprotective Ryder can be. Especially after the whole Andrew debacle. I’m really going to kill her for bringing this up in front of him.

He straightens to his full height before cracking his knuckles. “Oh, yeah? Who’s the guy?”

“It’s no one,” I say before Sasha can divulge any more state secrets. The last thing I need is Ryder getting all up in my business.

His expression darkens. “I want a name.”

With a groan, I slump in my chair. “That’s not necessary, all right? We’re just talking.” If Ryder has his way, it’ll never progress to anything beyond that.