Now, that’s a depressing thought.
“So which do you want more? To be the singer or the songwriter?”
“Either. I love writing, but I love singing too. I want to sing for people. I want to hear my music on the radio. I want to change lives, better people, and all that jazz.”
“You can do it.”
“Thanks.”
When she tucks our hands into the front of my pullover, I smile. But then she stops. “Well, here we are.”
Shit, already? I was so caught up in everything she was saying I hadn’t realized we were already across campus. Sullenly, I nod, turning to face her. Her face is flushed, her little nose red and so freaking cute. Grinning up at me, she looks shy. “Thanks for walking me. I hadn’t realized it was such a long walk.”
“My pleasure.”
Her eyes darken before she takes a step forward. She goes onto her toes as I take her face in my hands, but I don’t kiss her. I can’t let this be the last time I see her. I have to know more. I need to know her.
Holding her gaze, I say, “Let’s go out.”
Her brow rises. “Go out?”
“Yeah, a date.”
“Ugh, labels. I don’t like those, and also, I don’t date,” she reminds me, her hands coming up onto mine.
“Yeah, I know, but give me a bye on that.”
She bites her lips, her eyes searching mine. I feel I’ve got her, but she shakes her head. “I said I wouldn’t date anyone when I came here.”
“That was before you met me,” I say with a wink and she grins.
She’s still working that lip, and I am sure I can sway her, but then she says, “No, Jace, sorry.”
I don’t let her go, though, even when she tries to turn out of my grip. I hold her. “Fine, friends with benefits. I can’t let you go, Avery. I’m nowhere near full from what you gave me.”
Her cheeks redden as she gives me a cheeky grin. “Friends with benefits means we have to be friends.”
“So, be my friend,” I say simply.
“I don’t know you.”
“So, get to know me.”
“Like dating?”
“Wow, who’s labeling what now? I’m just trying to get to know you, be friends.”
Her expression is challenging as she rolls her eyes. “I don’t know.”
“You know you want to.”
Her lips curve as she shrugs. “I don’t want that, though.”
“You don’t want a friend? I find that hard to believe,” I supply and she laughs.
“You know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t. Now, what are you doing tonight?”