Her gaze darts behind me. “Anywhere but here.”
Sadness flickers in her eyes and instantly I know I’d gladly f**k up whoever had hurt her. “Come on. If we cut through there,” I point to a trail at the edge of campus, “my house isn’t far.”
She nods, and glances behind her once more before following me.
I have no idea what spooked her, but she’s pale and jittery, like she might dart away from me at any second. I’m not sure why, but I can’t let her do that. I reluctantly release her hand, but she keeps pace beside me. “Do you have a class right now?” I ask, needing to break the silence.
She shakes her head. “I’m done for the day.”
Damn, only eleven in the morning and she’s done for the day? I don’t take classes that start before noon.
When we reach the Delta Sig house, she hesitates at the front door before stepping inside. It’s trashed, as usual.
“This is weird – being in a frat house during the light of day.”
I smile. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”
“How many guys live here?” She follows me through the living room. There’s a random dude sleeping on the couch, and Avery looks slightly concerned at this, but continues past him.
“Um, sixteen, I think. The house is just for the juniors and seniors.” We stop in the kitchen and say hi to Drake and Jared. I figure if I introduce her to a few of my roommates – witnesses – she’ll be more comfortable following me up to my room. Of course I don’t like the way their eyes travel over her sleek jean-clad hips, visually molesting her. “Come on.” I take her hand again, which has become a natural reaction to her even though I’ve always hated holding hands, and guide her to the stairs.
She stops cold at the bottom of the stairs, her eyes full of questions. I turn to face her, resisting the urge to brush the strands of hair back from her shoulders. “I pretty much only hang out in my room. The rest of the house is nasty.”
She smiles crookedly, unable to disagree that my house is disgusting. “Okay. But no funny business.”
“Right. Unless you initiate it, in which case I make no promises to stop it.”
She swats my arm. “I won’t be starting anything, so don’t you worry.”
She follows me upstairs, and I’m glad she can’t see the dumb-ass smile planted on my face. She’s not at all like other girls I hang out with, and I like that. We climb the three flights of stairs in silence and when I push open the creaky door to the attic, Avery steps around me to peek inside. Taking the unfinished attic meant I had my own room. It didn’t matter that I didn’t have heat or air conditioning, I had my own space.
I watch as she takes in the queen-sized bed, neatly made in cream and navy bedding, desk and chair in the corner, a tall dresser and my acoustic on a stand in the corner. The room is large and open, with dark plank-wood floors and beamed ceilings. It’s freezing in the winter and stifling hot in the summer, but its September, so for the time being, it’s perfect. “What do you think?”
She wanders over to my desk and looks at the corkboard above it where I’ve tacked various photos, quotes, and clips from magazines. There’s a photo from last summer of me and my mom at the beach – before she went cuckoo for Cocoa-Puffs – and another of Trey and me having an impromptu jam session.
Avery points to the one of my mom. “You look like her. Same eyelashes.”
“I know.” Everyone always freaks over my eyelashes for some damn reason. It’s embarrassing.
Then she turns to survey the rest of my room. “You make your bed?”
I nod. “Habit I guess. I had to every day growing up. It was the one chore I had to do, and my mom would freak if I didn’t.”
She bites her lip, trying not to smile.
“Come sit down.” I slide her backpack from her shoulders and set it on the floor. She sits on the edge of my bed, while I pull out the desk chair for myself. “So, are you going to tell me what you were hiding from?”
She looks down and the terrified expression on her face is back.
Shit f**k.
“Hey, I’m sorry. It’s okay.” I hold up my hands in surrender. “You don’t have to tell me.”
She swallows, the tension in her shoulders dissipating slightly as she draws a deep breath. “Thanks.”
“For what?” I pull the chair closer to where she’s seated on the bed.
“For being cool with my…crap.” She twists her hands in her lap. “I guess I expected you to be different. The Jase Owens I’ve heard about is a major player and always…” She pauses, biting her bottom lip.
“Always what?”
Her cheeks blush the prettiest shade of pink. And on her fair skin, there’s no denying her embarrassment. “Horny,” she finishes.
I crack a slight grin. “Well that part’s true, babe.”
Her eyes widen just slightly.
A sudden knock on my bedroom door interrupts our silence. “Hey man,” a muffled voice calls through the door. It’s Trey. I’m sure he’s been briefed that I’m up here with a girl, so there must be a significant reason for him to interrupt.
“Come in.”
His gaze registers Avery perched on the side of my bed like she’s ready to bolt, but his eyes slip past her to me. He doesn’t recognize her from Saturday night. Not surprising, given he was drunk off his ass.
“Stacia’s here,” he says.
Avery’s head turns to me, clearly wondering who Stacia is.