Bared Souls - Ellie Wade Page 0,26

of school, and I had little time to worry about what Leo was doing. Turns out, eighteen credit hours is a lot of work. I was hired by the university as a tutor about a month ago. I needed some spending money, and I enjoy it. I’ve been so busy that I’ve only seen Amos once. We text daily and talk on the phone every few days, but I still miss him.

I promised myself that any free time I had was going to be spent on people who mattered, those who loved me. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t secretly hope to run into Leo on campus just to get a glimpse of his beautiful face. I don’t want or need him, but I still crave him. I just pretend I don’t.

I look to Quinn and sigh, “Yeah … his appointment is in thirty minutes.”

“Well, be strong and don’t put up with any of his shit,” she says with a huff.

“I won’t,” I promise.

Two days ago, after he plopped down at the table and agreed to allow me to tutor him, he didn’t say another word until the end. The entire hour was spent with me talking to him about his assignments, him typing up what we discussed, and him staring at me like I smelled. His face was twisted into this weird grimace the whole time.

I still haven’t figured that one out, though there’s a lot that I can’t figure out about Leo Harding.

Before walking out at the end of the hour, he looked over his shoulder and said, “See you Wednesday,” and that was the extent of his communication.

“See you Wednesday.”

And, now, it’s Wednesday, and I have to meet him at the library. I really don’t want to, but I kind of do.

Quinn and I walk out of our dorm together. Once outside, I tell her to have fun.

“You too but not too much.” She shoots me a wink, and then she’s skipping toward the kiosk.

I hitch up the straps on my backpack and start toward the library.

“Where are you heading?” a familiar voice asks with a hint of a smile. He walks in step beside me.

“The library,” I answer, not wanting to play his games.

“What a coincidence. Me too,” Leo says, much more cheerful than he was on Monday.

I detest charismatic Leo. It’s hard to hate that guy when he turns on the charm.

I look straight ahead as Leo keeps pace next to me. I’m going to my office. We’re going to talk about English for an hour, and then I’m leaving. I’m not getting involved in the weird hot and cold that Leo’s such a fan of.

“I’m sorry,” he says suddenly, and it catches me off guard.

“For?”

“For leaving your room after kissing you and never contacting you again. Know that it has nothing to do with you. I have issues.”

That’s what he’s sorry for?

“Yeah, okay …” Disapproval weighs heavily on my words. “It doesn’t matter. It was two kisses. You don’t owe me anything. We’re good. I’m just surprised that’s what you’re apologizing for.”

“What do you want me to apologize for?” he asks.

“Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

“I’m getting the impression that it does. You’re being very huffy.”

“I am not.”

“Ooo-kay,” he drawls out. “Just tell me what it is that you want an apology for. We have nineteen more hours together. Wouldn’t it be better if we didn’t have this animosity between us?”

“There’s no animosity. And you don’t owe me anything. The entire student body could give you head, and it wouldn’t be my business. You do you, Leo.”

“What are you talking about?” he replies gruffly.

I can’t stop myself. “Was it uncomfortable for me to see that girl giving you a blow job? Sure, of course it was. But that’s not your problem. I’m the one who walked into the wrong room. It’s not like you meant for me to see it, not like it would matter, considering we’re nothing.”

“Wait.” Leo grabs my arm and stops walking. He steps in front of me, and his expression seems pained. “You saw a girl sucking me off? When?”

“At the frat party the weekend after … you know”—I look down—“we kissed.”

“No,” he says more to himself than me.

“You know I did. You looked right at me,” I snap.

“Alma, I’m sorry. I …” He raises his arm, his hand cradling the back of his neck. “I don’t remember that.”

“What do you mean, you don’t remember?”

“I was fucked up. I don’t remember most things from when I’m wasted. I am sorry