“Yeah, but I don’t have the patience required to teach people. It comes naturally to you.”
She shrugs. “I guess. But money is money, you know what I mean.”
I nod. “Sure do.”
“So, you and Tucker. Will you be at his game this weekend?”
“Should be. As long as nothing comes up with any of my jobs.”
At least a dozen students walk through the front doors, sucking the air from the already crowded café. Some people are standing around sipping lattes in front of the window, while others are hanging out on the small terrace, which overlooks Broad Street. The indoor cafe is packed. The circular two-person tables closer to the windows have at least four chairs scattered around them. The larger tables at the center of the shop are overflowing with obnoxious assholes that can afford overpriced coffee drinks.
As one group of students exits Broad Street Beans, at least two more enter, each time ordering even more complicated drinks than before. Rich kids are so annoying and demanding. Their expectations are killer. Too many of them order their coffee at a certain temperature, with a certain amount of foam, and an exact amount of sugar or creamer. What I hate most is the way they shout their orders. Like we’re servants who work for their parents.
Sam glances at the watch on my left wrist and smiles. “Ten more minutes until we can get out of here.”
“I have to catch the bus on Broad Street. Which way are you headed?”
“Across campus. I told Chase I would meet him in the library.”
I cock an eyebrow at her. “Chase Matthews?”
She nods. “Yep. Golden Boy isn’t so golden. He’s about to fail out of philosophy.”
I laugh, and Sam chimes in as she passes another set of drinks to me.
“You know, it’s funny how insecure these rich kids are. Before I knew Tucker, I used to think he was some asshole who walked on water. He had everything handed to him, every advantage in life. But as I got to know him, his walls came down. His arrogance was just a way for him to mask his insecurities. It was his way of keeping people away.”
“Julian is the same way,” I admit. “He acts one way in public and another behind closed doors.”
“Oh, is that so?” A voice I immediately recognize booms from across the bar.
Chills roll down my arms from the fear of having to meet Julian’s intense gaze.
“Maybe you should spend more time
with me behind closed doors,” he says with a wink.
My eyes and mouth widen in shock. How did he hear me over all of the people yelling in this place?
He leans forward, his emerald irises burning a hole through my blue ones.
Julian never steps foot in Broad Street Beans. He hates coffee. It reminds him of his father, who drinks it all day and night. Apparently, his dad is like a vampire and never sleeps, only works and counts his money like some old miser. Julian once told me that the smell of coffee on someone’s breath makes him sick. That’s how much he hates his dad.
What the hell is he doing here?
“I came to see you,” he says as if reading my mind. “I wanted to see if you were okay after what happened at the auction.”
“I’m fine,” I mutter. “You don’t need to check on me. I can take care of myself.”
“I know you can,” he shoots back. “But I still wanted to ask… and see if you need anything.”
I shake my head, unsure of how to respond. He’s acting so nice. Does he want a second chance? It’s confusing me. Julian was always good at doing that.
After a long staredown with him, Eden, Sam’s roommate, moves between us. She fixes the green apron around her neck, her gaze shifting between Sam and me.
“You two can get lost.” Eden nudges Sam with her hip. “Your shifts are over.”
Julian’s grin widens. “You’re done for the day?”