Page 71 of Starstruck

If I knew for a fact that the girl in the far left corner of the roomwasn’t trying to eye fuck Tristan as she casually turned around in her seat, I would have forced my eyes closed and reminded myself that it wasn’t real and I had no excuse to feel this way towards him.

Perhaps the only difference between when I’d do this behind a rowof cameras and crew and now was that, unlike the guys who played my crush, we never actually spent time together away from the set. We only existed behind a screen.

But Tristan and I? We were making things personal. We werefriends who were slowly finding out more and more about each other, erasing that mystery between us.

Was there such a thing as falling for someone as a friend? Was thatpossible? Did people fall in love with their friends in a way that was purely platonic? I suppose if you were to ask me if I fell in love with Daisy, Cora, and Rory, I’d say yes, but there was nothing in my heart that told me it wasn’t the platonic kind of love.

If you were to ask me if I could look at Tristan, think about all theunique things that made him the person he is and the person I’ve come to care about, and tell you that it was platonic, I don’t know whether I could.

“Alright guys, excellent contributions today. See ya on Monday.”

The commotion of everyone scampering out of their seats to getout of the room as quickly as possible distracted me enough to not think about the inner debate I was having with myself, which was fine, until I felt Tristan’s hand still in mine.

I twisted my head up to him, his eyes full of humour. “You gonna letmy hand go or do you want me to walk you home?” He asked, that accent wrapping around my brain and forcing its way into my long-term memory.

I threw on my best sarcastic smile, anything to hide what thatquestion did to me. “I bet you ask that to all the girls.”

“Only the ones I care about.” He chuckled. “But if you need metoo, then I can.”

“No, I’m okay.” I stayed close to him as a few students brushed pastus. “I’m gonna head to the library, I think. I want to get started on the case study.”

The golden brown strands of his hair fell free as he nodded down atme, a half smile curling up his face. “Okay, well, get home safe, Sunshine.”

Sunshine.

One of these days, I’ll tell him to stop calling me that. Not becauseI don’t like it, but because I was eerily close to asking him to call me it forever.

And despite the joke he made, he kept hold of my hand all the way out the door, threading us through the student traffic. The group of girls who’s eyes had been practically glued to him throughout class were waiting just outside, eyeing him with that mix of awe and calculation I’d seen a hundred times on fans' faces.

“Does this bother you?” He murmured, nodding toward them, his voice low and teasing.

“Not at all. I've lived with unwanted attention. But it must be hard if this is all new to you.” I tried to sound flippant, but the way his hand stayed in mine, warm and solid, did strange things to my pulse.

A slight smirk tugged at his mouth as he pulled us off to the side, out of the current. “I reckon it’s you they’re curious about.”

"Why?" I breathed.

He shrugged, skimming his thumb over our locked hands. "Because I was when I first saw you."

He leaned down, and before I could let his words sink in, he brushed a light, feather-soft kiss on my cheek. The surprise stilled me, heat prickling from the place his lips touched. Time stopped, and he didn’t move back; his face hovered inches from mine, his eyes dark and unreadable as his gaze dropped to my lips.

“Tristan…” My voice was barely a whisper, and I don't know why I'd let it slip.

His eyes held mine, intense and searching, like he was waiting for something. My heart thrummed in my chest, so loud I was sure he could hear it. The girls were still watching us, probably wondering why he’d even glanced in my direction. But in that moment, it was like no one else existed. Just him, his hand in mine, and the quiet, aching space between us.

But just as I felt a flutter take over my eyes, I saw it, the hesitation, the reality check that this was only pretend. He'd done enough, and as I glanced to where the girls had just been, the space was empty. There was no need for his mouth to be so close to mine.

And by the way he stood taller, backing up from me, I knew that he knew that too.

“Talk to you later, Gold’s.” He whispered, skimming a thumb over mychin and dropping my stare, before turning away and getting lost in the crowd.

I had to catch my breath, pull myself together, like somehow a kiss on the cheek wasenough to make my lungs feel weak and forget how to do the only job they had. Maybe it was because I’d never felt these things before, felt this way about another person that all these sensations were intense and new and confusing.

I blew out a breath, and as I spun around, my mind a mentalcalendar counting just how many days there were until Thanksgiving break, I locked eyes with Henry, who had just left the lecture room.

Like I always did when I saw him, I smiled, and there was not asecond that passed before he returned one to me, his blue eyes brightening as he sheepishly walked my way.

His demeanour and his presence—it’s the reason I’ve had such ahard time coming to terms with what Tristan told me. How could someone as nice and good as Henry have such cruel intentions? It didn’t make sense.

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