Rogue Devil (The Rourkes #11) - Kylie Gilmore Page 0,11
of four? And that’s a top school. Even the valedictorian of my high school was rejected from Columbia.”
I lift one shoulder in a small shrug. “I’m just a hard worker.”
“Right. So-o-o, do you know any more secret passageways?”
“Just one more. It leads to the dungeon.”
“Seriously? Let’s go see that.”
I shake my head. “It’s gross. There’s spiders and I don’t even know what else crawling around down there, and it smells like creepy mold.”
He laughs. “Never heard of creepy mold.”
“You especially don’t want to go there at night. It’s cold and dark.” I cross my arms, fighting a shiver at the thought. “I think there’s bats too.”
He leans against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. “You want to hang here for a while?”
“Yeah. Can I borrow your light? I left my phone in my room.”
“Sure, but first I want something from you.”
I still, suddenly wary.
He laughs. “You look like I’m about to ask for your firstborn.” He reaches out and nudges my shoulder. “I just wanted to know how you ended up soaking wet, dirty, and shivering in my room earlier.”
I lean against the wall next to him. Something about the intimate space makes it easier to share. So I tell him the whole ridiculous story—from cookies to planter to runaway car.
He turns to me. “You cared that much about keeping the friendship?”
“I felt bad that I hurt him.”
“That’s damn heroic what you did.”
“Nah.”
“Yeah,” he insists.
I exhale sharply. “Turns out friends with benefits isn’t really a thing. The friend part is fake.”
He’s quiet for a moment, seeming to consider this, before finally saying, “You’re right. No guy wants to go back to being friends once they cross the line.”
I straighten and hold out my palm for his phone. “Lesson learned.”
He gives it to me, his eyes intent on mine. “You have a big heart.”
“I do?” I feel hopeful for a moment, but then I realize he doesn’t know me well enough to see the real me, on the inside. Broken.
“Hell yeah. You put in real time and effort making those cookies and getting them over there. You suffered to make amends. Only someone with a big heart would do all that. Most people would just walk away.”
“Maybe I should have just walked away.”
He chucks me under the chin. “Hey, nothing wrong with having a big heart. That’s probably what makes you want to cure cancer. You want to give back to the world.”
A warmth spreads through me. He’s right about one thing—it’s so important to me to give back. “Thanks.”
He inclines his head.
I turn away, using the light on his phone to go farther down the passageway, checking out cherubs on my way to my favorite sculpture of a pair of cherubs. I stop to admire them, forever frozen on either side of a stone buttress. They look like they’re peeking at each other. So close, yet so far.
I cross to him and hand back his phone. “Thanks. I’m ready to go.” I lead the way out.
“That’s enough fun, huh?” he says from behind me.
I can hear the smile in his voice. He’s teasing me that I never have fun. “I’ll have you know I make time for fun with my roommate, Lindsey, every weekend and after finals.”
“Oh, yeah? What do you do?”
“Movie night, beauty night, sometimes we hit up the planetarium.”
“Do you call that last one nerd night?”
I press my lips together. I’ve heard that taunt plenty in my life. I’m not a nerd. I’m a serious student. There’s a difference.
I wait until we’re back in the tower room, after closing the bookcase door securely behind us, to respond, “I prefer my friends to be less insulting.”
He holds up his palms. “I meant nerd in the cool genius way. I do think what you’re aiming for is noble.” He gestures toward me. “Like a higher calling.”
I breathe deep, pride making me stand straighter. “Thank you.”
“What do you do on beauty night?” He glances at my nails. “You don’t seem to paint anything or wear much makeup.”
I actually am wearing makeup, but it’s subtle. It’s kinda flattering that he thinks I just naturally look like this. “This last beauty night after finals I dyed my hair red. She dyed hers purple.”
He closes his eyes. “No.” He sounds terribly despondent.
“What?”
He opens his eyes. “You’re not a real redhead?”
“No, I’m blond like Sara. Why is that a big deal?”
He waves that away. “Nothing, don’t worry about it. Hey, I brought my laptop. You want to watch the latest Fast and the