Page 114 of Trust Me Always

“But I love going on vacation.”

“True, but you want a house with a big yard, and chickens with a dog best friend, and hot apple pie in the oven.”

I glare at her. “I don’t even like apple pie.” I pause, adding, “But the dog-and-chicken-best-friend thing sounds legit.”

Ari laughs loudly, and we drop onto our butts, picking up my mess.

But why did I have to pick single-wrapped Starburst?

We get everything settled, the horrible poster taped to the end of the table, and then take our seats behind it, just as a few waves of what look to be high school students walk down the path.

Ari starts playing on her phone, and I look around at some of the other booths, but it’s the one a good hundred yards over that catches my attention.

The library booth, sitting right across from the football team’s.

Brady’s little library girl stands there, a big wicker basket in her hands. She’s talking to another girl, and that one keeps looking across the way. Finally, she stands and gives the redhead a little push. She stumbles on her feet a bit, tucking her hair behind an ear as she crosses the walking path.

My eyes lock on to her as she moves, and I can’t tell from here, but I bet her cheeks are blazing as she approaches her target.

Brady spots her rather quickly, and when he does, his smile is so wide, I couldn’t possibly miss it.

He has a football in his hands, and he tucks it under his arm, stepping closer to her.

She’s mini. A teeny, tiny thing. Pretty in every sense of the word. Her red hair is in a sweet, loose braid over her shoulder, andher dress, while formfitting, is long, the sleeves wrapping around her hands.

She lifts the basket a little, and his attention falls to what’s inside.

He smiles again, reaching in and pulling out some sort of treat. He stares at her, saying something as he opens and makes a show of eating it.

Her gaze falls to her feet, so I can only assume he’s being his usual flirty self. I wonder if he likes shy girls. This one is really shy.

“Do you think she’s his type?”

Ari looks at me, confused, then follows my gaze. She watches the pair.

“You know, if Brady has a type, like if he met someone that made him want to date someone for real, do you think it would be someone like her?”

When she doesn’t say anything, I look her way, finding her watching me closely.

I frown. “What?”

She opens her mouth but closes it, offering a small shrug instead. “Okay, so what do you mean ‘someone like her’?”

“You know, shy. Sweet and…innocent.” I swallow on the last word.

All things that I am not.

There was nothing innocent about what I did the other night.

“What makes you think she’s any of those things?” Ari says, a sort of softness in her voice that has me looking her way, but strangely, she’s staring at me, not the hot librarian girl…who is still standing there talking to Brady, by the way. “She could be a raging bitch.”

An unexpected laugh leaves me, and I glance up, my eyes locking with Brady’s down the path.

He lifts the hand still holding on to the other half of the treat—probably one she made with her great-grandma’s secret family recipe—giving me a little wave.

We haven’t seen each other much this week, and we’ve texted even less. He’s been a busy bee this week, locked down with school and football.

He’s told me so twice since he left my dorm the morning after I came to the sound of his voice, the feel of his touch. His teeth.

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