Page 34 of The Girlfriend Agreement (Conwick U #1)

All that to say, people like that do not tend to befriend people like me—Ronnie and her cousin excluded, but then, they are the wonderful exception to the Conwick rule.

Come to think of it, aside from the cousins—and by extension, Eli—the only people I interact with at school are other scholarship students, and even then, only when conversing is absolutely necessary at our required work study.

Outside of that, I rarely even see the other scholarship math majors; there are only a few of us, and none of our classes overlap due to varying academic trajectories and us being in varying years in the program.

Not that having them in this class would in any way make this more tolerable. In truth, they’d probably be judging me just as much as the rich kids are, albeit for entirely different, wealthy douchebag-shaped reasons.

A fresh wave of heat burns my cheeks as my mind whirls in about eight hundred directions.

I’m not normally the kind of person who would care what anyone thinks of me, but after the fiasco with the bet in the spring, my skin isn’t quite as thick as it used to be, and I can’t stop myself from wondering what the students muttering around us might be saying.

If seeing me with Damian has reminded them of my humiliation freshman year…

And if this whole thing is just setting me up for more of it.

“Dornan.” Damian’s voice snaps me out of those thoughts, and my eyes dart to his. “Izzy’s?” he prompts.

I swallow past the sudden lump lodged in my throat. “Yes, okay, fine,” I say in a rush, my heart like a snare drum, beating aggressively under my skin. “I’ll text you when class is over. Now, go. Please .”

I don’t want to see Damian’s reaction to my plea, so I turn my back to him again, and focus on Professor Bensen where he scribbles across the white board at the front of the room.

Or at least, I try to. In reality, I’m far too aware of the heat of Damian’s body behind me, and of his footsteps when he stands and walks away.

The surprise of his appearance here has left me feeling somewhat claustrophobic, and I only seem able to breathe again when I hear the faint thud of the classroom door closing.

“Now”—Professor Bensen taps the board with the tip of his marker—“who can walk us through the process of applying Dijkstra’s Algorithm to find the shortest route from A to each of these other four locations?”

Come on, concentrate, damn you, I scold my brain. Then, inhaling a deep, calming breath to slow my pulse, I once more raise my hand.

The next forty minutes go by without any fanfare or any more interruptions on Damian’s part, though I can feel the curious eyes of my classmates, their questioning stares following my every move, even as they begin to funnel out of the room the moment class is over.

Trying my best to ignore them, I pack up my bag, and turn on my phone to find several messages from Damian along with a single text from Ronnie.

Sometimes, I really do wonder if she’s actually psychic.

Fuckboy

Are we still on for today?

Is that a no?

You haven’t changed your mind have you?

Why aren’t you answering me?

Doooooooornaaaaaaaaan

***

If you don’t answer me I’m going to go put my in the nearest just to spite you

Rolling my eyes, I exit out of the texts from Damian, and bring up my chat with Ronnie.

Ronnie

Fancy meeting at Izzy’s? I’m not in the mood for psych class today so totally happy to skip! x

I frown at the message, chewing on the inside of my cheek.

I went out of my way to avoid Ronnie and Andie this weekend so I wouldn’t have to tell them about my impromptu shopping day with Damian on Friday…

and to avoid the very real judgment I would be on the receiving end of if they were to find out we kissed.

And they would find out because Ronnie would torture it out of me, like verbal bamboo shoots under my nails.

I also might have failed to tell them about a certain planned coffee date happening this morning.

I didn’t see the point as neither of them approve of this fake dating agreement, and I honestly didn’t want to endure another minute of the cousins attempting to psychoanalyze me.

I swear, Ronnie takes one psychology class, and now everything is a damn therapy session.

Me

Sorry can’t today. I have a meeting with my advisor

Then for good measure (and to avoid her showing up uninvited), I add:

Me

And you shouldn’t skip. What if they teach something that’s on your midterm and you fail and then you need to make up the credits and we end up not graduating together? I wouldn’t forgive you for that

It’s surprisingly easier to lie to her than I thought it would be, which I guess is a good thing considering how much I’m going to need to lie over the next nine months.

Though, I don’t feel great about the graduation comment.

Ignoring the fact that it’s still nearly three years away, the odds of skipping one class affecting her grade enough that she fails altogether is highly unlikely.

Still, I can’t risk her going to Izzy’s and seeing Damian and me together.

In public . She’d only end up butting her head in where it doesn’t belong, and the last thing we need is some wild rumor that she’s one of Damian’s jilted ex-fucks.

Which she isn’t, but her reaction would definitely give that impression because it would almost certainly be aggressive. And possibly violent.

She’s going to find out about it regardless, my conscience rudely reminds me. Ronnie can smell gossip eight miles away, and as soon as word of our first outing hits social media—and whatever trashy magazines Ronnie subscribes to—she’ll know I lied to her.

But as far as I’m concerned, that’s Future Lexi’s problem.

For now, I just need to focus on my first “date” with Damian not turning into a catastrophic disaster.

Which means ensuring Ronnie stays as far away from us as humanly possible.

Her showing up unexpectedly would be the very definition of cataclysmic.

My phone buzzes in my hand as I make my way up the auditorium steps.

Ronnie

Curse your big brain and the good point it just made le sigh I guess I’ll see you this afternoon after ALL my classes then

Exhaling a breath of relief, I stow the device in my pocket, and pull open the heavy wooden lecture hall door.

“There you are! Finally!”

I nearly jump out of my skin again at the jubilant voice booming in my right ear, and I stumble a little as I turn to find Damian standing to the side of the doorway.

“Fucking hell , you scared the shit out of me! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” I snap. Although I stare very sharp, very stabby daggers at him, he just laughs me off.

“You’ll be fine,” he assures me with a placating grin. “Ready to go?”

When he steps toward me, I glower at him, only now grasping just how tall he is. I’m hardly short, and he nearly has a whole head on me.

And I really, really detest how my body reacts to that knowledge.

Clearly, I have an as-of-five-seconds-ago undiscovered kink for guys who tower over me, and I almost swoon at the realization.

It takes the reminder that this is the guy who fucked me to tick a box on a bucket list to keep me on my feet.

My mouth is a desert, but I force out the words, “Have you…” only to trail off when the auditorium door opens again, and a few more students exit the lecture hall behind me.

They glance at us as they pass, speculation sparkling in their eyes like gemstones.

Once they’re out of earshot, I redirect my attention to Damian, drop my voice, and try again.

“Have you been waiting out here this whole time? I did say I would text you.”

Damian shrugs. “I mean, not to put too fine a point on it, but I didn’t trust you not to flee the state at the first opportunity.

I figured, if I stuck around, I would at least make sure we got our date today since I did pay in advance.

Gotta get my money’s worth and all that.

” Panic ratchets up my heart rate as I glance down the length of the hallway to see if anyone heard him, but we’re the only two in the immediate vicinity.

“Besides…” He leans in close, a teasing smirk on his lips.

“It can’t hurt for everyone to see just how into you I am. ”

I snort. “Right, because waiting for someone to finish class is a huge sign of devotion.”

“Hey, it is if you have a reputation for being a playboy.”

“I believe the term you were looking for is manwhore,” I correct him.

Damian waves a dismissive hand. “Po-tay-toe, po-tah-toe. The point is, Damian Navarro doesn’t waste his time loitering in hallways for just anyone.” He then reaches out and boops me on the nose.

I flinch, batting his finger away, and step back to put some space between us. His smug expression falters, and a slippery feeling slides down my back, like an icy fingertip along my spine. He’s peering at me strangely now, almost…deviously. Which cannot be good.

“What?” I hedge. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

He blinks as if my question has snapped him out of a daze. “No, nothing,” he says. “I just realized you’re wearing some of the clothes I got you.”