once I step off the treadmill, exhaustion finally setting in. I grab my water bottle and empty half of it. For the first time all night my eyes fall on the watch around my wrist.
When did it get so late? It feels like I just got here, but it’s already close to midnight.
The door squeaks open, and my head snaps up just to see Yasmin slipping outside.
“Yasmin, wait.” She stops but doesn’t turn around. “Are you going to the dorm?”
“Yeah.”
Throwing the towel over my shoulder, I grab my things and go after her. “I’ll walk you.”
She looks over her shoulder at me, her eyes narrowed into tiny slits. I swear I can see smoke coming from her ears. “I don’t remember…”
“It’s not up for discussion,” I say, not giving her time to finish. “I either walk you, or I’ll walk after you. Take your pick.”
She stares at me, clearly irritated, but I don’t back down. Not on this. Blairwood might have a small and relatively safe campus, but it’s too late for her to walk around all by herself.
“Fine,” she finally agrees. “Five minutes.”
Chapter Eleven
YASMIN
When I get out of the changing room, Nixon is already there, leaning against the wall, leg propped on the hard surface, waiting for me. It’s like he’s expecting me to run away without him. He wouldn’t be completely wrong, because the idea might have crossed my mind.
His head snaps up when he hears the door open, eyes landing on mine as he pushes off the wall. “Ready to go?”
My hand is gripping the door like my life depends on it. I force myself to loosen my grip and let go.
“You don’t have to, I’m capable of walking myself back to the dorm.”
“I didn’t say you weren’t, but this isn’t up for discussion,” he grits through clenched teeth and pulls open the door for me.
I’m not sure what’s with this whole situation. The other night he didn’t give a rat’s ass if I walked home alone or not. Why bother now?
I step out, a shiver going through my whole body when we step into a cold night. Burrowing deeper into my scarf, I wrap my arms more tightly around myself.
Turning around on the balls of my feet, I face him. “You’re infuriating.”
“And you aren’t any better.”
We stare at each other for a while. “Let’s just go.”
Not waiting for his answer, I start walking to my dorm. It’s an easy fifteen-minute walk from the gym to the dorm, but I know if I hurry, I can make it in ten.
The campus is mostly quiet, without a soul in sight. After years of living in a city which is always buzzing with activity and life, it’s hard to get used to this… stillness. It feels unnatural.
When I see my building in front of me, I sigh in relief. Just a little while longer, and I’ll be safely inside.
“We’re here, you’re free to go,” I say just as Nixon wraps his fingers around my hand to stop me from going inside.
“Yasmin.”
His voice is low and rough as he says my name, making the fine hairs at the nape of my neck rise.
I look down, my eyes glued to his fingers wrapped around my wrist. They’re long and lean, his grip sure. He isn’t wearing gloves so I can see that the skin on his knuckles is reddish and rough from the cold. I shouldn’t be able to feel his touch, not with all the layers between us, but I can. The roughness of his fingertips, the warmth of his skin.
“What?”
He swallows, as if he’s preparing himself to get the words out. “I know you said you don’t want to talk about it…”
“Then don’t,” I cut him off before he can finish the sentence. I’m in no mood to discuss the fuckup that’s our… relationship.
“I can’t. I need you to know I’m sorry for everything I said that night. I was drunk, but that’s no excuse. What I said…” He shakes his head. “It was mean and spiteful, and completely out of line. I shouldn’t have said it.”
“No, you shouldn’t have.” I pull my hand out of his, but even so I can still feel the weight of his touch.
I turn my back on him, not wanting to look at his haunted eyes, but something holds me in place, not letting me go. Not just yet anyway.
“You didn’t say anything to anybody, did you?”
There is a moment of silence, but I don’t turn around.
“No,” he finally says, breaking the quiet.