Page 32 of Betrayed

“Front, if that’s okay.”

It was more than okay.

“Of course.” I tried to sound neutral as I opened her door.

I wanted to ask her if she’d had more nightmares, but knew from experience it was never a good idea to ask a woman anything she might interpret to mean she didn’t look good.

Blake was quiet, staring out the window most of the ride.

I wanted to offer her comfort, an ear to bend or a shoulder to cry on, but it wasn’t my place to pry. No matter how badly I wanted to.

I’ll have to settle for being the strong, silent type, and hope she reaches out.

She didn’t.

Not long after getting to campus, I figured out one reason she was upset. Her friends, though I was loath to call them that, were ignoring her. Fuckface shot daggers at me as we approached. Before Blake could say hi; he walked away, dragging Paige with him. Paige shot Blake an apologetic look over her shoulder.

Who needs enemies with friends like that?

Blake sat in the back of the class. She packed up and walked out before the professor finished the lecture.

“Can we go off campus for lunch?” she asked.

“Of course. Do you have somewhere in mind?”

She did. When we got to the restaurant, she asked me if I wanted to sit with her.

Hell yeah. This wasn’t a date, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t keep her company, and maybe get to know her better.

“Unless it’s against the rules.” She sounded sad and defeated.

I missed her feisty side. Hell, I’d let her call me an ogre a thousand times if it’d bring back the spark in her eyes.

“It’s not.” When the hostess seated us, Blake claimed the chair facing the door before she realized I’d pulled out the other one for her. I fully expected to get an earful for being chivalrous, even if it wasn’t the main reason.

“Can you sit here, please?” I asked.

“Sure, but why?”

Hearing her agree, without so much as a hint of irritation, made me want to show Fuckface what it really felt like to be tackled. He deserved it for making her feel like shit. Blake had no control over the circumstances making me necessary.

“So I can see the door.” I said as I pointed. A reminder to myself—my thoughts were dangerously close to overprotective boyfriend territory.

After the server took our orders, Blake asked me if I ate alone often when I was working.

“Depends on the job, but I suppose I eat alone more often than most people.” Eating alone, or in the car, was a normal part of the job.

“I hate eating alone.”

Which explained why she asked me to sit with her. Not because she wanted me here, but because she didn’t want to eat alone.

At least she thinks eating with me is better than eating alone.

It wasn’t much, but it was an improvement over how she felt two days ago.

Chapter 18

Blake

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