Page 97 of Facing the Line

“You really don’t have to help,” Hadley says for the fifth time. Her flirty little black tennis skirt swishes as we walk, and she fiddles with the zipper on her duffel bag as we move towards the stairs. The wait for the elevator is too long during move-in.

That’s what boyfriends do, is what I wish I could say. Instead, I clear my throat.

“Nah, I don’t mind. It’s like conditioning.”

“Which you still have to attend, so you’ll be twice as worn out.” She stares straight ahead, not meeting my eye.

“But think of it.” I step in front of her, so she has to look at me and give her my most charming smile. “You’ll be done twice as fast.”

“But you?—”

“I’m starting to think you don’t want me here.” I keep my voice light as I tug her close to me, brushing my lips across hers. She holds herself stiff at first, then melts into me. It might be the first moment she’s been soft all day. I’m joking about her not wanting me to help her move into her dorm, but she’s been tense and terse since we woke up. Maybe there’s a kernel of truth to my words.

She fists my shirt in her fingers and kisses me back with unexpected fierceness. I drop the handle of her rollaboard luggage and lean into it, savoring the taste of her. My hands glide across her waist, skimming the fabric of her tight white tank top. I itch to touch her bare skin.

All too soon, she pulls away, licking her lips. Her eyes are glazed as she says, “I like having you here. But I don’t want to impose.”

I shrug, hiding my disappointment that the kiss ended. “You’re never an imposition.”

Hadley raises a brow. “You’d help any other friend move in?” She emphasizes the word friend, and I nod. She sighs. “Yeah, you probably would. You’re a good guy like that.”

Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, she doesn’t meet my gaze but continues down the hallway towards the stairs.

And what’s wrong with being the kind of guy who helps a friend move?

I don’t ask, though, but follow at her side. She’s been a little off for weeks now. Not as willing to hang out and talk, not as open with her thoughts as before. Still pleased to share my bed, but not as emotionally available as she used to be. I thought it had something to do with her mom or Hunter, but I’m not one to pry. Maybe it’s the looming pressure of the semester and new classes. If she wants to talk to me, she knows I’m here. If she’s not ready to share, well, I’ll still be here when she is.

My fingers brush against hers as we start up the two flights of stairs, and I send her a flirty grin. She smiles back, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“So, you excited to see Kendall again?”

Finally her smile turns genuine. “I can’t wait. I’ve missed her so incredibly much. I desperately need some girl time.”

She pauses outside of what I assume is her room and jiggles the key in the lock. Then, she flings the wooden door open and drops her stuff, flopping on the bed.

I follow, huffing a laugh at her antics. “Where do you want this?”

I glance around the bare room. It’s spartan now, with stark white walls and plain oak furniture—desk, bedframe, and dresser. I can’t wait to see how Hadley puts her stamp on it.

“Wherever.” She waves a hand around. “I’ve got a lot of unpacking to do.”

“I can stay to help. Uh, just until Kendall arrives,” I hurry to say. “I don’t want to infringe on your girl time.”

“That’s sweet of you, but I should probably do it myself so I’m not calling you in the middle of the night to ask where you put things.” She sits up, adjusting her ponytail.

“You can call me in the middle of the night whenever you want.” I let my voice drop, husky with innuendo. If she thinks I mean for a booty call…well, she’d be right.

She tries to grin, but it’s more of a grimace. She must be stressed. “You’re a good friend, Joe. Thanks for everything this summer.”

This is the moment. Now or never. I sit beside her, take a deep breath, and decide to go for it. “It was a great summer, Hadley. The best I’ve ever had.”

“Better than when you were hiking out west?”

I blink, surprised she remembers that. “Yeah. Even better than that. So maybe it doesn’t have to end.”

“What do you mean?” Her voice hits a higher pitch than normal, a little tight. “Of course summer has to end.”

“But not the best parts. And that’s you, being with you.” Her mouth drops open, and I rush on. “Hunter knows about us, and it’s no big deal. So do the rest of the guys on the team.”

---