Page 5 of Trust Me Always

Brady shakes his head and starts up the steps. “Come on, girl.” He chuckles.

I follow like a sad puppy and blindly drop into the chair that Brady pulls out for me, glancing around as he lowers into the seat at my side.

I frown at the space, looking over my shoulder at the mostly empty tables—because only crazy people come to the library to studybeforemorning classes. Well, at least not this early in the semester anyway.

Honestly, what do I know?

“I thought you said you wanted the best table. We’re literally at the front where everyone and their mom has to walk right by us to even get in here.”

“Everyone and their mom and…” He trails off, stretching his head to the right, and I follow his line of sight but see nothing. When I look back to him, his smile slowly stretches, so I glance over again just in time to watch as a short, cutesy redhead comes out of the aisle, pushing a cart of books.

I follow her progress, my lips pressing together to fight a smile as she parks her cart at the podium-style deskrightacross from us.

The moment she hops up into the barstool-style chair, I glance over at Brady, who is focused on her.

“Good spot, huh?” I deadpan.

“Best one in the house.” He grins, breaking his gaze away from the little librarian and meeting mine. “She wants me.”

“Does she even know you?”

“Not yet.”

We both start laughing.

And then we get to work.

A little over an hour later, Chase slides up to the table, scoffing when he sees where we’re sitting, his attention moving to the redhead a moment before coming back.

“I see he’s still hoping to catch the quiet one’s attention,” Chase jokes.

“More like demanding her attention.”

“Hey. Don’t forget, we’re here for you.” Brady looks my way as he pushes to his feet with a tip to his lips and shoves his shit in his backpack. “I’m a God at Communications, and you know what they say about killing two birds with one stone.”

“That only future serial killers throw rocks at innocent animals?”

Chase chuckles and Brady tosses a crumpled paper at my head. “That’s it, brat. You’re Chase’s problem now. I’m out of here.”

He hustles away, and I leave my bag, trusting Chase to snag it as I speed after Brady, jumping up on his back.

Brady catches me around the thighs instantly, used to my habit of making myself his backpack. “You’re getting scary good at that.”

“It helps that my landing spot is built like Bane—the Tom Hardy version, of course.”

“Not sure if that’s a compliment or not, Cammie Baby.”

“At least she didn’t compare you to Chad Michael Murray,” Chase says as he catches up.

Brady and I start laughing, glancing over at Chase, and just as I figured, my bag is hanging from his left hand.

“To be fair”—I grin—“I wastryingto be an asshole. You needed a haircut and were acting like a douche.”

“Hey.” He raises his free hand in surrender. “I’m not saying it wasn’t deserved, just a low blow.”

“What’s a low blow?”

A frown instantly forms along Chase’s brow, and we all face forward just as Paige walks up, her flowy, pastel-pink dress meeting her knees, paired with cute flats a sparking pearl-like color.

---