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“I...” She licks her lips and glances around the room. “I think I would like that.”

CHAPTER 20

EMMY

Sterling smileslike the cat who ate the canary.

At this point, I’m not sure which of us is the dumber: him, for thinking I’m falling for his obvious bullshit, or me for being half tempted to believe him.

Regardless, I’m interested in seeing how this plays out. Even if it blows up in my face, it’s not like things can get worse, right? I only have three friends as it is, and who knows... maybe I truly can sway Sterling to see the truth.

I’ll never know if I don’t try, so here goes nothing.

“I know you’re majoring in psychology, but what are you planning to do with the degree?” Sterling asks as a heaping plate of nachos is placed on the table between us.

“I—I want to be a victim’s advocate.” I clench and unclench my fists, feeling a whole new kind of vulnerability as I open up to him. “I want to help other people... people like me. I want to give a voice to the voiceless.”

I expect him to laugh, but instead he nods encouragingly. “I can see you doing that.”

“What’s that mean?”

He shrugs and pops a queso-laden chip into his mouth. “You just seem the type. Like you’d enjoy helping people.”

“Is that a bad thing?” I ask, taking a chip for myself. “Oh my God. This is... whoa.”

“Right? Told you.”

We eat in silence for a few moments, my question seemingly forgotten. Or so I thought, until Sterling says, “No, it’s not a bad thing. It’s refreshing, if I’m honest. It’s rare to see such selflessness.”

Even though his words are most likely nothing more than spoon-fed bullshit, I still feel my cheeks heat all the same.

I only thought my brain and body were at war before, but that was merely a battle. This, him treating me with kindness, this is the war—and I’m going to have to be extra careful spending time with him if I want to emerge the victor.

We exchange silly, inconsequential stories as we eat, and the entire time, I’m struck by how absolutely normal it feels. Then again, he’s probably playing me for all I’m worth. Though, joke’s on him there, because after the abuse I suffered at his best friend’s hands, I’m not worth all that much.

Much to my surprise, and despite my protests to cover my portion, Sterling insists on footing the bill for our meal. “It’s the least I owe you after the way I’ve treated you,” he says, sounding so sincere I find myself wanting to believe he really is capable of kindness.

But I know better.

“Can’t argue with that,” I concede, because a free meal is a free meal.

Even though I have a sizeable inheritance from my father, I try to live frugally, preferring to squirrel most of my funds away for my future. Lord knows my mother doesn’t offer support of any kind to me, especially financial support.

I was prepared to pay out of pocket for an in-state school, but then I was offered a full-ride here, and I leaped at the chance to escape.

So, yeah, I’ll take a free meal.

“Ready to head back?” he asks as he signs the receipt with a flourish.

“I guess so.” I push back from the table. “After all, I have some reading to catch up on.”

For a split second, he looks taken aback by my casual joking over his deception. But in the blink of an eye, he schools his features. “I suppose you do. C’mon.” He gestures for me to walk ahead of him, but as I pass him, he presses a hand to the small of my back and falls in step beside me.

His palm may as well be a brand on my skin, painfully hot, singeing my skin through the material of my sweater. But I’ll be damned if I’m going to acknowledge that his touch is affecting me.

He keeps his hand on me the entire walk back to his car, and even opens the door for me, waiting patiently while I buckle before rounding the hood to the driver’s side.

This gentleman act of his is so convincing, it’s a miracle he’s not majoring in acting. The thought gives me pause, because whatisSterling majoring in?