Page 32 of Even Exchange

At least it’s Friday and I can finally sleep in tomorrow.

“Morning, Charlotte.” My head swivels to find Noah striding toward me in athletic clothes, hair wet, and two to-go cups in hand. “Thought you’d appreciate not having to wait.”

He holds one towards me, and a grin spreads across my face as I step out of line, eagerly taking the unexpected offering. “Ohh, come to Mama.”

“It’s a double shot. I noticed you were struggling to keep your eyes open,” he says, with a hint of concern in his tone, and my chest tightens.

“Thank you.” The sweet liquid of a vanilla cinnamon latte hits my taste buds, and I side-eye Noah. “How do you know my usual coffee order?”

He holds the door for me while we exit the coffee shop into the warm Florida air. “Lucky guess.”

It’s the first conversation we’ve had in person since I asked him to fuck me.

I cringe, my sweet beverage turning bitter.

Is this latte a friend zone elixir?

Is he concerned I’ll ask him again?

Is he thinking about that night too?

Tugging my phone out, I check the time, which gives me an escape route from this awkward situation.

“My stats class starts in five,” I say, gesturing behind me with my thumb.

“Good thing I rescued you from the coffee line,” he says, pleased with himself.

I take another long sip of the warm liquid because without the caffeine boost, there’s no point in attending. “Yeah, the probability of me picking coffee over punctuality today would’ve been certain.”

“I’d argue the ends justify the beans,” he says, walking past me. “Come on.”

I huff a laugh, rushing after him. “Where to?”

“I’m walking you to class,” he says as I catch up.

So much for escaping.“Won’t you be late to yours?”

“No?” His brows pull together. “I was out for a run. I don’t have class on Fridays.”

My eyes roam over him: tight, dry wick shirt sticking to his muscular chest. Athletic shorts. Running shoes. No backpack.

“Oh.”Guess we’re doing this.“Lucky you.”

“Perks of it being my last semester,” he says, reminding me of his impending graduation and the three-year age gap between us.What the hell was I thinking asking this man to fuck me? Of course he wasn’t interested.

I tip my head back, and the sun hits my face like it’s attempting to melt away the humiliation. Memories from last week’s beach getaway flash in my mind. “I wouldmuchrather be walking in the sand than into stats.”

Noah chuckles. “You’re not the only one feeling that way. The guys and I are heading to the beach tomorrow. Wanna join?”

This awkwardness is killing me, but I’m going to have to get over it sooner or later, so I find myself saying, “Sure.”

“Awesome. I’ll pick you up at ten?” He halts on the sidewalk.

“Pick me up?” I ask, stumbling to a stop, and he grabs my arm, steadying me.

“Yeah.” His gaze drops to his searing hold, and he releases, stepping away. I clear my throat, finding my balance and my breath. “Or were you planning to walk since you don’t have a car anymore?”

Right. He’s just being nice.

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