The bitter wind swept over my already-chilled face, making my eyes water as a hundred more colorful leaves were swept from tree limbs and blown across the park. It was quiet on campus, between it being a weekend day and the freezing temperature, most students were in their dorms resting or boozing it up in one of the many favorite brunch places.
Hearing from my dad should have brought me peace and comfort, but it somehow did the opposite. I found myself wishing I’d taken the time to make more friends when I moved to NBU, that I hadn’t spent all my time either with my books or my internship. I thought about calling Riley, but knew she’d be spending the day after a game win celebrating or resting with Zeke — as she should.
The one person I wanted to call, to be with, hadn’t talked to me since he walked out of my apartment after I threw myself at him.
I was alone.
So alone I felt like I didn’t exist.
“Well, there’s a pretty face I haven’t seen in far too long.”
I blinked out of my haze, looking up to find Shawn strolling toward me. He wore a dark, forest green peacoat and a pecan brown scarf wrapped around his neck. His nose was pink, breath coming in little white puffs from his lips as he took the seat next to me.
Right next to me.
His body heat enveloped me as his thigh pressed against mine. “It’s fucking brutal out here today, eh?” He shook his head, looking over the pond before his eyes flashed down to where my hands were clasped in my lap. “Jesus, you don’t have gloves on?”
Before I could respond — to any of his greetings — he pulled his glove-covered hands from his pockets and reached for me, pulling my hands into his.
He smoothed the warm fabric over my icy digits, and then, carefully, he pulled my hands up toward his mouth, blowing hot breath on them before he rubbed them between his palms once more.
And I must have been about to start my period because my eyes flooded with tears when he did.
“Hey,” he said, frowning, his grip tightening on my hands. “What’s wrong?”
I shook my head, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth in an attempt to keep my shit together as I stared down at our hands, vision blurring and fogging up my glasses. Just a few weeks ago, I would have had a stomach full of butterflies seeing that, feeling him holding me in such an intimate manner.
But now, all I could do was think of another pair of hands, larger and rougher and so familiar with me now that they felt like my own.
“Come here,” Shawn said when I didn’t answer, and he tucked me under his arm, wrapping me in a warm embrace and shielding me from the wind. He was quiet for a long while before he finally asked, “It’s Clay, isn’t it?”
I buried my face in his chest more, heart squeezing just from the sound of his name.
Shawn let out a long, slow breath, and for the longest time, he just held me, his hands smoothing over my arms to warm me through my jacket that was doing a poor job. After a while, he gently pulled back, still holding me but waiting until I lifted my gaze to meet his.
“I hate to leave you like this, but I’m playing at the coffee shop. My set starts in twenty minutes. Do you want to come?”
I shook my head immediately, but couldn’t find the word to tell him I wasn’t up for anything right now, least of all a crowded café.
He nodded in understanding. “Look, I don’t want to overstep, Giana, but… do you think…” He paused, swallowing. “Could we maybe hang out Friday night?”
I blanched. “What?”
“Is that all I had to do to get you to speak? Ask you on a date?” Shawn smirked.
I couldn’t help the genuine chuckle that left me then, and I wiped the wrist of my jacket against my nose. “I have a boyfriend,” I reminded him, though my conviction was weak.
“To be honest?” Shawn dipped his gaze until I was looking at him again. “I don’t care. Not when he treats you like this.”
My brows bent inward, heart squeezing in my chest at the insinuation that Clay treated me any way but with respect. But this was the picture we’d painted for Shawn, that Clay was a cocky athlete, that he neglected me, that I couldn’t see that I deserved better.
This had been the plan for me.
While we’d played the game to get Maliyah back in his life, we’d also weaved the perfect story to get Shawn in mine.
And both had worked.
This was what I’d wanted. This was what Clay had offered to help with, what I’d asked him to prepare me for in more ways than he originally signed up for.