Page 46 of Don't Leave
Am I making too big of a deal out of this?
It’s just studying. We probably won’t even talk. Like at all. After a moment of internal struggle, I decide there’s no real harm in sitting at the same table with Luke for an hour and a half.
“Okay.” I give him a small smile before dropping my bag on the table and pulling out my economics book. Luke returns the expression but doesn’t say another word as he gets back to work. I reassure myself again that what I’m doing is fine and crack open my book to chapter thirteen before reading, highlighting, and jotting down a few notes.
After a while, I realize my shoulders ache from my body being hunched over my book. With a stretch, I pull out my phone to check the time and realize that an entire hour has slipped by. Crap. I didn’t even get through everything I wanted to. I peek over at Luke and notice he’s still typing away on his laptop. He hasn’t said one word to me since I sat down.
Relief floods through me.
See?
I knew studying together would be fine.
Why did I even think it would be such a problem?
All of my previous concerns seem ridiculous.
I have roughly thirty minutes left to study before meeting Cole for dinner. Just as I’m about to get back to it, Luke straightens in his chair and stretches. He arches his back, reaching his arms toward the ceiling, as he rotates one shoulder and then the other. Even though I shouldn’t notice how the soft fabric of his T-shirt plays across the broad expanse of his chest, that’s exactly what’s happening. It feels as if my gaze is glued to the way his short sleeves mold to the thickly corded muscles of his arms and shoulders.
Nope. I definitely shouldn’t be staring.
Look away!
I can’t. Objectively speaking, Luck is gorgeous. With his handsome face, sculpted shoulders, powerfully built chest, and massive biceps, he’s catnip to the female species.
Just as those unwelcome thoughts crash through my head, I realize I’m totally checking him out. The last thing I should be doing is checking Luke out. Heat fills my cheeks as I rip my gaze away from him and force myself to look at the book splayed open in front of me.
How embarrassing. I really hope he didn’t see the way I was staring.
Luke is my friend.
Nothing more.
Nothing.
More.
“Do you have a lot of reading to finish up?”
I force my gaze to meet his before carefully searching it. Thankfully, there isn’t any kind of smirk or knowing light filling it. If there were, I’d have to pack up my books and hightail it out of the library. For all intents and purposes, he’s unaware of my previous scrutiny.
I wish I could be as oblivious.
It takes effort to clear my throat along with those thoughts. “A little bit more. I wanted to get through as much as I could before the game tonight.”
He smiles, stretching again, as he holds my unwavering gaze. This time, I don’t allow my gaze to deviate from his. “You’ll be there?”
“Yup. Brooklyn and I are planning on it.”
“I’ve spent time going over film and it should be a tight game. We’ve got a faster defense and more talent upfront, so I think we’ll be able to pull it off.” His fingers rise to rub his chin. “But their goalie is solid.”
I don’t mention that Cole pretty much said the same thing. “It should be a good game.”
He leans back in his chair and tilts his head. I can almost feel the intensity of his gaze licking over me.
What I can’t decide is if I like it or not.
When it comes down to it, I shouldn’t like his perusal at all.
