“You want to trade places?” Mal asks when I can’t tear my eyes away from the two of them.
“Huh?”
“You’re basically craning your neck like a giraffe over here. If we trade spots, you can watch Whit comfortably.”
I snort but don’t deny it. Just go to move next to Mal, bumping his hip with mine and then grabbing his drink and taking a large swig.
“Seriously?” he asks me, and I smile widely at him.
“You love me.”
“Pfft,” he says, and then a moment later, “Oh shit.”
My eyes fly up to Whit, and I see the tiny guy next to him lean over and press a kiss on Whit’s cheek.
“Huh,” I grumble, grabbing Mal’s drink and taking another large gulp. It goes down the wrong pipe, and I end up choking. Coke dribbles down my chest as I wipe at my chin with the back of my hand.
“Classy,” Mal says as I peek up at Whit, who is now looking at me. Those dark eyes flash as his eyebrows lower slightly.
I raise an eyebrow at him, and he shrugs the guy away. Don’t know what that was about, but it bothers me. Is he into guys? Sure looks like it. Not that I care, but I wonder. Or maybe he isn’t, and this dude is making Whit feel uncomfortable. Either way, I don’t like it. At all.
Pushing my tray of food away, I look at Mal. “I think I should go say hello. You know me, friendly, yeah?”
“Good idea. I’ll join. Scare that ghost-looking-fucker away. I’ll flex my muscles. Oh, and how about this,” Mal adds with a crazy smile. “I’ll call Sem too. He could show up and really freak that guy out. Grunt, throw him around the cafeteria for a bit.”
“Donotcall Sem.”
Mal has his phone out, his fingers tapping on the screen, and I smack it out of his hand without warning. It falls dramatically to the floor with a crack.
“You did not just do that,” Mal gasps, and I ignore him, knowing that he has a nice case for this very reason. He’s constantly dropping his phone. It’s been fine then, and it’ll be fine now.
“Let’s go,” I say and then stalk toward Whit, whose eyes haven’t moved from me as I traverse the room toward him.
As we grow closer, Whit’s tablemates turn to watch me approach. Their eyes widen, especially the pretty guy next to Whit, who seems to pale at the sight of Mal.
I turn to glance at my best friend and see that Mal is scowling dramatically.
He looks like a serial killer.
I say, “Cut the shit, Mal," out of the corner of my mouth. "You’re scaring them.”
He smacks the back of my head, and I resist the urge to smack him back. Instead, I stop next to Whit and stare down at him.
He shifts in his seat and taps his fingers against his knee.
“Hey, roomie.”
“Hello, Caleb.”
“You’ve been avoiding me,” I say, tucking my hands in my pockets lest I grab onto the back of his neck and squeeze.
“I’ve been busy,” Whit replies, and I arch an eyebrow at him.
“That so?”
Mal moves toward where the pale guy is sitting and crouches down next to him, staring at him intently. Pale guy just shakes in his…is he wearing a bowtie with pigs on it. For reals? Who is this freak?
“You’re frightening him,” Whit tells Mal, who ignores him.