I rip my arm away and continue around him. “That’s not for you to decide.” I rush up the stairs and shove my key into the handle, unlocking it quickly and disappearing inside.
I lean against the cold door and slide to the floor.
A light knock sounds, but I don’t respond to it.
“Claire…” He lets out a sigh. “I’m sorry.”
That's the second time he's said that tonight. The first about my mom. I was surprised when I heard it leave his mouth, because up to that point, I wasn't sure if he was capable of apologizing. Now though, the two words mean so much more than they seem, like he's trying to cover all the moments in the past couple of weeks where he's been in the wrong, including the very first when we ran into each other.
His footsteps disappear down the hallway and I’m left alone with the mystery of what he meant.
How am I going to make this arrangement work if I can’t even get through a single study session with him? I have to figure out a way to block out any and all feelings I have for him and leave things strictly platonic. Going into this evening, that was the plan, but I’m going to have to try a little harder than that if I’m going to pull off this tutoring thing and actually pass my English Lit class.
Ineedthis. I also need that letter of recommendation from Professor Brown on my scholarship resume if I stand any chance of actually getting it. Griffin might be a huge pain in my ass, but there’s so much more waiting on me back home. My friends, my hometown, everything I grew up around. I can’t allow it to slip out of my grasp because of some guy.
Some enigmatic and frustratingly gorgeous guy.
I climb from the floor and drag myself over to the couch, plopping myself horizontal and covering my face with my arm.
* * *
Iwake up to knocking at my door. I rub my eyes and check the time, realizing that I accidentally slept for an hour. There are more alerts from Griffin that I choose to ignore.
I peek through the blinds and spot Johnny standing there. I turn the handle and peer outside.
“Hey.” He holds out a bag in front of him.
Whatever it is reminds me that I skipped dinner.
“You must be hungry, right?”
I narrow my gaze. “I told you to stop buying me food.”
“Technically, I bought myself food. A lot of it. And I have enough to share, if you haven’t already eaten. If you have, I’ll…”
I sigh and prop the door open further. “Come in.”
A shy smile creeps across his face. “You sure?”
“Yep. Better hurry before I change my mind.”
“Were you sleeping?”
“Maybe.” I move to the kitchen and search for the plates. I still haven’t gotten used to where everything is in my mom’s house. I stand on my tiptoes to reach them.
“Here.” Johnny puts his hand on the small of my back and grabs them from the top shelf. He pauses for the briefest second to stare into my eyes before walking away. “I wasn’t sure what you liked so I got a variety.”
“I thought you said it wasn’t for me.”
“Wishful thinking.” He winks at me, a new version of him showing through that I haven’t met yet. Playful Johnny.
I don’t hate it.
Although, it makes staying mad at him quite difficult.
He unfolds the Chinese takeout box. “Um, this one’s orange chicken.”
One for one so far.