Page 19 of Don’t Leave (Stay #2)

CASSIDY

N inety minutes.

That’s how much time I have to hit the books before I’m supposed to meet Cole for a quick dinner. He has a hockey scrimmage tonight and Brooklyn and I are planning on being there to support the team.

I still haven’t worked up the courage to tell him that his mother is my therapist. I keep putting it off. How familiar does that sound?

Unfortunately, all too familiar.

And here I thought telling him about all the meaningless hookups and failing out of school would be the hard part. I’d really thought we were past all the secrets, lies, and omissions.

Turns out we’re not.

With one last glance at my phone, I turn off the ringer before shoving it back into my messenger bag. Then I head up to the second floor. There’s a quiet area buried behind the stacks. I always gravitate there because no one ever uses the space.

Imagine my surprise when I find someone camped out at the table I usually park myself at. Annoyance flares within me because I’m a creature of habit and I like sitting at what I consider to be my table.

And no…there’s nothing weird about that.

Just as I’m about to stalk away, the encroacher glances up and skewers me in place with his blueish-gray gaze.

Luke.

As soon as our gazes lock, a smile curves his lips. “Hey, Cassidy!” He waves me over.

Something unwanted tightens in my belly as I hesitantly step toward him and lift my hand in an awkward wave. “Hey.”

He glances at the bag hanging off my shoulder. “You need a place to work?”

I glance around for an alternative, but there are none. There are only a few tables scattered around the space and they’re filled with students. “Yeah.”

He clears off part of the table closest to me. “You can work here if you want.”

For a moment or two, I shift uneasily, knowing in the back of my mind that Cole wouldn’t like the idea of us spending time together.

If I’m being completely truthful, the feelings I have for Luke make me uneasy.

I’m beginning to suspect they aren’t one hundred percent friendship.

My life is already complicated enough without adding these unwanted feelings into the mix.

Deep down, I know the best thing to do is stay away from Luke until I have a better handle on my emotions where he’s concerned. I glance around, scanning the area for an open table.

Any open table.

Just one open table.

But there aren’t any.

“Cassidy?”

I gnaw my lip, unsure what to do.

Am I making too big of a deal out of this?

It’s just studying. We probably won’t even talk. Like at all. After a moment of internal struggle, I decide there’s no real harm in sitting at the same table with Luke for an hour and a half.

“Okay.” I give him a small smile before dropping my bag on the table and pulling out my economics book.

Luke returns the expression but doesn’t say another word as he gets back to work.

I reassure myself again that what I’m doing is fine and crack open my book to chapter thirteen before reading, highlighting, and jotting down a few notes.

After a while, I realize my shoulders ache from my body being hunched over my book.

With a stretch, I pull out my phone to check the time and realize that an entire hour has slipped by.

Crap. I didn’t even get through everything I wanted to.

I peek over at Luke and notice he’s still typing away on his laptop.

He hasn’t said one word to me since I sat down.

Relief floods through me.

See?

I knew studying together would be fine.

Why did I even think it would be such a problem?

All of my previous concerns seem ridiculous.

I have roughly thirty minutes left to study before meeting Cole for dinner.

Just as I’m about to get back to it, Luke straightens in his chair and stretches.

He arches his back, reaching his arms toward the ceiling, as he rotates one shoulder and then the other.

Even though I shouldn’t notice how the soft fabric of his T-shirt plays across the broad expanse of his chest, that’s exactly what’s happening.

It feels as if my gaze is glued to the way his short sleeves mold to the thickly corded muscles of his arms and shoulders.

Nope. I definitely shouldn’t be staring.

Look away!

I can’t. Objectively speaking, Luck is gorgeous. With his handsome face, sculpted shoulders, powerfully built chest, and massive biceps, he’s catnip to the female species.

Just as those unwelcome thoughts crash through my head, I realize I’m totally checking him out. The last thing I should be doing is checking Luke out. Heat fills my cheeks as I rip my gaze away from him and force myself to look at the book splayed open in front of me.

How embarrassing. I really hope he didn’t see the way I was staring.

Luke is my friend.

Nothing more.

Nothing.

More.

“Do you have a lot of reading to finish up?”

I force my gaze to meet his before carefully searching it. Thankfully, there isn’t any kind of smirk or knowing light filling it. If there were, I’d have to pack up my books and hightail it out of the library. For all intents and purposes, he’s unaware of my previous scrutiny.

I wish I could be as oblivious.

It takes effort to clear my throat along with those thoughts. “A little bit more. I wanted to get through as much as I could before the game tonight.”

He smiles, stretching again, as he holds my unwavering gaze. This time, I don’t allow my gaze to deviate from his. “You’ll be there?”

“Yup. Brooklyn and I are planning on it.”

“I’ve spent time going over film and it should be a tight game. We’ve got a faster defense and more talent upfront, so I think we’ll be able to pull it off.” His fingers rise to rub his chin. “But their goalie is solid.”

I don’t mention that Cole pretty much said the same thing. “It should be a good game.”

He leans back in his chair and tilts his head. I can almost feel the intensity of his gaze licking over me.

What I can’t decide is if I like it or not.

When it comes down to it, I shouldn’t like his perusal at all.

And I definitely shouldn’t feel awareness prickling at the bottom of my belly.

“Is everything okay, Cassidy?”

Surprised by the question, I say, “Yeah, everything’s fine. Why do you ask?”

For a long moment, he watches me. It’s almost as if he’s silently combing through all my thoughts and emotions.

It’s a disconcerting sensation and yet…

I don’t know.

For some unknown reason, one I don’t have a grasp on—or maybe I do, maybe it all stems to what happened last year—I feel like I can talk to Luke. Like I can drop all the pretenses and be honest with him. There aren’t many people I feel that way with.

My teeth sink into my lower lip as indecision floods through me.

It would feel so good to talk to someone about everything that’s going on in my life.

It’s not like I can pop into Dr. Thompson’s office.

I never realized how much I’d come to depend on her until I started to avoid the counseling center.

I miss her objective opinions and thought-provoking questions.

I’ve spent the last ten and a half months working with a therapist. This is the first time I haven’t had someone to sit down and unload on. I could always talk with Brooklyn, but she has her own issues she’s trying to navigate through. The last thing she needs is to get mired down in my drama.

“It seems like there’s something on your mind.” He gives me a half-smile before adding, “We’re friends, right?” He waits for me to signal my agreement before continuing. “If you need help with something, I’ve got a strong shoulder to lean on. You can always talk to me.”

His words crash around inside my head before my muscles gradually loosen. He’s right. We are friends.

I suck in a breath before deciding that I can’t keep all this too myself. It feels like I’m going to explode. Once I turn on the spigot, the floodgates open and everything comes pouring out in a torrent.

After I’ve told him the story, my shoulders slump as his dark blond brows shoot up across his forehead and he releases a low whistle.

I can’t help but wince.

Apparently this situation is just as bad as I suspected it was.

Perfect.

“And you haven’t told Cole yet?”

I shake my head.

“Yikes.”

When a smile trembles around the corners of his lips, I’m crumple up a piece of notebook paper and throw it at him.

For a moment, he looks stunned as the wadded-up ball of paper hits him square in the chest before he bursts out laughing.

A few of the students working close by glare in our direction.

As my attention returns to him, he stifles his laughter before angling his body forward and resting his elbows on the table. “Sorry. That is a completely serious and jacked up problem. Please continue.”

I narrow my eyes and continue to scowl. He isn’t telling me anything I don’t already know. Had I realized he would find humor in this situation, I wouldn’t have bothered to share it with him. “Just so you know, I’m two seconds away from packing up and leaving.”

His expression becomes serious. “All right. The obvious answer is that you need to tell Cole. Honestly, it’s not that big of a deal.”

How can he say that?

It feels massive.

I glance away before admitting, “I’ve told her intimate details about our relationship.”

His brows slide upward, but this time, he’s smart enough not to chuckle. Or he’d find himself alone.

“The way I see it, whether you told her about what you guys do, she probably would have suspected it anyway. I mean, come on, you’re in college. You’re making a big deal out of nothing.”

Hope fills me. “You really think so?”