Page 6 of Guarded Love

"Food's on the way. Pizza. I ordered plain cheese. Hope that works."

"Pizza works," I confirm, taking another sip of water. "Thanks for... you know."

"No problem," he says simply, like helping drunk girls get home safely is something he does every weekend. Speaking of, why didn’t he just help me back to my room and leave me be?

"Why didn't you just take me back to my dorm?" I ask, voicing the thought before I can stop myself.

“Because you mentioned being out alone. Didn’t think it made sense for you to be alone depending on how drunk you are.”

"Oh," I say, feeling oddly touched by his concern. "That's... thoughtful."

He shrugs, looking almost embarrassed. "Just common sense."

The room falls quiet except for the sound of us sipping water. I study him from across the small space between the beds, trying to reconcile this version of Blaise with the one I thought I knew. The one who barely acknowledges me except when Knox is around. The one who's always seemed very indifferent to whether I was in the room or not.

"You're staring," he points out, the corner of his mouth lifting.

"Sorry," I mumble, looking down at my water bottle. "Just thinking."

"About?"

"How weird this is," I admit, the alcohol making me slightly more honest than I'd normally be. "Us. Hanging out. Voluntarily."

He raises an eyebrow. "Is it that weird?"

"Kind of." I twist the cap on my water bottle. "We don't exactly... talk. Ever."

"We talk," he counters.

"No, we say hey in passing. That's different." I take another sip of water, feeling more clear-headed now but not sure how drunk I still am. It could be just a fluke.

"Maybe we should change that," Blaise says.

My eyes snap up to meet his. "Change what?"

"The not talking thing." He leans forward slightly and the move only draws more attention to his shoulders beneath his hoodie. "Maybe we should actually talk. Like real people."

I laugh, but it comes out sounding more nervous than I intended. "What would we even talk about?"

"I don't know. Normal stuff." He shrugs. "Like the fact that you're apparently a level sixty-three witch who hides her gaming habit from her brother."

"Oh fuck," I groan, covering my face with my hands. "I can't believe I told you that."

"It's not exactly a criminal confession," he says. "Though you did threaten to kill me if I told anyone, so..."

"And I stand by that," I say, pointing my water bottle at him. "Knox would never let me live it down."

"Your secret's safe with me." There's something in his expression that makes me believe him.

Also, I should have known when I admitted to being a gamer I’d drank too much. Rookie mistake.

"Thanks," I say, and mean it. "So what other deep, dark secrets should we share since we're suddenly talking like real people?"

"I don't know if I have any deep, dark secrets."

"Everyone has secrets," I counter. "Even Mr. Perfect Political Science Major with the color-coded notebooks."

Something flickers across his face before he masks it. "My notebooks aren't color-coded because I'm perfect. They're color-coded because they have to be."

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