Page 27 of Wicked Minds
“Is that a pumpkin spice latte?” The question spills from my lips before I can bite it back, and Logan grins as though he’s won something. It infuriates me that he thinks I’ll cave and forgive him so easily.
“You know it is.”
Channeling the woman in Royce’s drawing—the version of myself that he sees—I take a measured step toward Logan, accepting the coffee from his outstretched hand. The scent of cinnamon and nutmeg makes my mouth water, and I have to swallow my groan of appreciation. Ducking my head, I inhale deeply. “Thank you for the coffee,” I tell Logan after I’ve had my moment. “As for the ride, no, thank you. I’d rather walk.”
With that, I turn on my heel and stride away from him, the biggest grin stretching across my face.
“Wait, what? Shortcake! Are you serious?” Logan calls after me.
My only response is to lift my hand and waggle my fingers goodbye.
Damn fucking straight, I’m serious.
It’s about time Logan Aster discovered that bewitching smile of his won’t win him everything in life.
After all, the best things in life aren’t free, and if Logan wants my forgiveness, he will have toearn it.
After my run-in with Logan, I’m on edge, expecting to find Royce or Grayson lurking behind every corner as I traverse campus. Which is ridiculous. Out of the three of them, Logan was the one most likely to track me down. Since Grayson didn’t come to drag me back to his place over winter break, he’s hardly going to show up now and cause a scene on campus.
Still, as unprepared as I am for seeing Logan, I’m sweating bullets at the thought of running into Grayson. That is one confrontation I amsonot ready for. I swear I can still feel the ache of him inside me from our last battle, and I may or may not have woken up more than once since then with the memory of how good he felt inside me and my thighs damp with need.
I know I’m a disgrace to all womankind.
Still, just because I have lewd fantasies about the jackhole doesn’t mean I’m going to act on them. It’s not my fault my subconscious focuses solely on the sweet boy I used to know. The one who no longer exists.
As if conjured by my thoughts, I catch sight of Grayson as I’m walking across the green toward my next class. He spots me at the same time, the two of us stopping in our tracks to stare as the world continues around us.
Seeing him only twists me up further. That clash between past and present is even more volatile. Classes have barely even started, and he already looks haggard. No longer the put-together man who tied me to a stripper pole in his living room and taunted me. His expression is blank as he takes me in, face pinched tight before storm clouds roll in.Oh great. I’m guessing he hasn’t moved on from the past yet, then.
Scoffing under my breath, I shake my head and pull my attention from him as I continue along my route, and when I look over to where he was standing before I leave the green behind, he’s gone.
By the time lunch rolls around, I have had a day. The straps of my backpack dig into my shoulders from the amount of booklets and textbooks I’ve had to lug around, and I already have three essays and a group presentation to prepare for. They weren’t kidding when they said things ramped up in the second semester.
And to top off my craptastic day, I have a meeting with my advisor after lunch.
I’m in desperate need of coffee—even if it is the crappy kind—by the time I step into the dining hall, and the last thing I need is to come face-to-face with Logan—again. However, whatever god is responsible for doling out luck clearly hates me because they never give me the good kind.
Knowing he won’t leave me alone until I talk to him, I march straight for the table he’s sitting at, with an overflowing tray of what most definitely is not dining hall food sitting in front of him. The room is pretty much empty since only scholarshipstudents ever come in here. Good. Less of an audience to witness while I rip into the school’s golden boy.
“Before you say anything,” Logan blurts, holding up both hands in a placating gesture. “I only came to bring you lunch.”
He gestures toward the tray and my gaze drops, taking in the various types of food on it. “What is all that?”
“Stuff from the food court. I wasn’t sure what you’d want, so I got a little bit of everything. Or, as much of it as would fit on the tray.”
“The dining hall serves perfectly good food.”
His face twists in blatant disagreement. “It serves something that passes forfood,but it is notgood food. If you believe that it is, then that only means I’ll have to prove to you how wrong you are.” With another gesture at the tray that, admittedly, looks and smells delicious, he says, “By supplying you withproperfood.”
I mean, it would be stupid to turn down good food, right? Yes. Totally. And the last thing I am is stupid.
Besides, I do have something I actually need to discuss with him.
Without a word, I pull out a seat and sit opposite him, dragging the tray closer as I decide what to try first. All of it looks amazing, and although I won’t admit it aloud, it’snothinglike the cafeteria-style food they offer in the dining hall.
Thankfully, seeming content to eat his food while I do my best not to devour mine like a woman starved, I wait until I’m finished before I broach the topic. “I gather you’re the one who thinks I eat ten thousand calories a day.” At his confused expression, I clarify, “The food deliveries, that was you, yes?”
“Oh, uh, yeah.”
