Page 6 of I'll Walk With You
5
Javier
Amazement and alarm war inside me. I can’t look away. It’s impressive yet terrifying, watching Bryce eat. He shoves another heaping forkful of food into his mouth. His tray was loaded to the brim, yet he's made quite a large dent in it. I take a slow, careful bite of my sandwich, eyes glued to Bryce where he sits beside me.
As if sensing the weight of my stare, his eyes rise to meet mine. His already familiar sexy smirk appears again.
“What? Is there something on my face?” He swipes at his cheek with the back of his hand.
Shaking my head, I grab my water and take a sip before gesturing toward the tray. “I think that’s about what I eat in a day. Like, thewholeentire day.”
A startled laugh bursts from his mouth. “Yeah, I’m sure you’re not wrong. Hockey players burn a shitload of calories. That means we have to consume an insane amount to balance it out. Carbs and protein keep us going. The school has anutritionist who works with us to ensure we’re tracking and meeting our goals.”
My eyes trail down his body, from head to hip, appreciating the limited view I have. “Well, whatever you’re doing is working for you.”
His shoulders rise and fall with his laughter. Leaning toward me, his lips hover close to my ear. “You’re a flirt,” he accuses in a soft, husky tone.
I shrug unrepentantly. “Guilty.” I’m pretty much an introvert and tend to keep to myself, but I also call it like I see it.
While Bryce finishes his food, I turn on the bench and brace my leg on the seat between us, my full attention on him as we make small talk. He tells me he’s majoring in kinesiology with a minor in journalism.
“The goal, pun intended, is to get drafted to the NHL and play pro hockey, but I also must be practical. The sport is hell on the body, and I can’t play forever. Hockey is my life. I need whatever comes next to incorporate into that. Kinesiology opens so many different pathways for me, but so does journalism. I’ll have a solid foundation to decide what’s next when that time comes. Hopefully many years down the line.”
He listens intently while I explain my double major in computer science and cyber security. When I’m done, he jokes, “You’re an overachiever, huh?” The conversation is easy, flowing back and forth. It doesn’t feel like this is the first time we’re really talking. He feels familiar, like an old friend I’m finally catching up with. It’s nice. Too nice.
When every crumb on his tray is gone, I shift our focus back to the matter at hand. “So, what did you have in mind?”
His eyes shutter a little at the subject change, but he meets my gaze head on. “If our schedules align, we can walk with each other to classes and eat lunch whenever possible. We should make sure we’re seen together at my place or yours as oftenas we can. I’m down for a sleepover, too, my room or yours, to really sell it. One of us getting caught doing the walk of shame would be icing on the cake.”
“But–” I start, but Bryce raises his hands in a “hold on” gesture and cuts me off.
“Platonic sleepovers. Just for show. Think about it.” The closed-off expression has melted back to his normal, earnest countenance.
I’m not sure if that’s a good idea. My teeth drag and catch the corner of my lip, worrying the tender flesh. His eyes narrow in on the movement, heat flaring and sparking an answering flame in my core. Nope, sleepovers are not a good idea. He’s too tempting. And the last thing I need is to get wrapped up in another relationship.
“Everything sounds good, but let’s table the sleepovers. Let’s see how everything goes and then recalibrate if needed?” It’s a statement, but I phrased it like a question to hopefully avoid disappointing him.
Bryce’s shoulders droop the tiniest bit, but he smiles at me regardless. “What’s your schedule look like?” he asks, pulling out his phone. He clicks into the calendar app and slides the phone closer so we can both see it. It’s very well organized, and I’m quite impressed. Practices and games are color coded and blocked off. His classes are marked with another color. Pulling my own phone out, I too open my calendar and set my phone next to his. He’s so close, leaning into my space to see better, the heat of his body warming my side.
Very quickly, we realize all our classes are within one or two buildings of each other and we tend to eat lunch at the same time every day. I’m amazed I don’t recall ever running into him or noticing him before. Bryce is the type of guy you can’t help but pay attention to. He’s like sunshine. Bright, easy smiles and happiness.
A bag thuds on the table in front of us, and I jump, heart racing. Bryce wraps his arm around me, hand on my shoulder, pulling me closer to him protectively. “Who do we have here?” The guy sets down a tray that very well might rival Bryce’s and sits down.
Bryce reaches across the table and smacks the new guy's arm with the back of his hand. “Fuck, you scared us, bro.”
“My bad.” His lips curl with an unapologetic smirk. I’m not ashamed to say my eyes get stuck on his luscious lips before they shift to take him in. He has gorgeous ebony skin, shiny, tight black curls, and a clean-shaven face. His eyes are the most magnificent color.
“Damn, Demetrius, you already have my boyfriend drooling all over you.”
Heat rushes to my cheeks at Bryce’s joking statement.
The new guy, Demetrius, buffs his nails on his shoulder, “Yeah, man, you know I’m irresistible.” He chuckles, then raises an eyebrow, his honey-colored eyes bouncing back and forth between us. “Since when do you have a boyfriend, B?”
“This guy”—he gestures in Demetrius’s direction—“is my best friend.” Bryce gently shakes my shoulder. My head turns and my eyes reflexively jump up to his. His gaze is intent. “Can I tell him?” I’m not big on the idea of spilling anyone’s secrets, but something inside is urging me to trust Bryce. He trusts Demetrius. So, I nod. “This is Javi. We met last week when I was at the Sigma Mu table.”
“Yeah, the we’ll-walk-with-you thing, right?” Demetrius asks, taking a bite of his lunch. Holy shit, these guys can eat.
Bryce nods. “Yep, Javi reached out after his ex made him feel unsafe.” He leans closer to Demetrius, lowering his voice. “We’re not really dating. We just need his ex to think this is real, so he’ll leave Javi the fuck alone.”
