Trust in Me(16)
I laughed, keeping an arm around her as I slid the cap backward. “I can’t help it. It’s my magnetic charm.”
“Or it could be your smell.” Ollie grinned. “I’m not sure I heard a shower this morning.”
I gasped. “Do I smell bad, Avery?”
“You smell great,” she said, and then a red flush quickened across her cheeks. “I mean, you don’t smell bad.”
Instinct told me she meant something completely different. “Heading to class?”
Shortcake didn’t say anything as we walked down the stairs, but her face was pinched as if she was in deep thought about something.
“Avery?”
She squirmed away, and my eyes narrowed as she hurried off. “Yeah, I’m heading to art. What about you guys?”
Catching up with her on the third floor, I’d be damned if she got away that easily. “We’re going out to breakfast. You should skip and join us.”
She tightened her grip on her bag. “I think I’ve done enough skipping this week.”
“I’m skipping,” Ollie announced, “but Cam doesn’t have a class until this afternoon, so he’s a good boy.”
“And you’re a bad boy?” she asked.
He grinned at Shortcake, the kind of smile I’d seen him give countless girls. “Oh, I’m a bad, bad boy.”
My skin prickled as I shot Ollie a look. “Yeah, as in bad at spelling, math, English, cleaning up after yourself, talking to people, and I could go on.”
“But I’m good at the things that count,” Ollie replied.
“And what are those things?” I asked as we stepped out under clouds fat with rain. It was going to be one of those days.
Ollie faced us, walking backward. A red truck started to back up, but he kept going, forcing the truck to grind to a halt. I shook my head. He held up a tanned hand and started ticking off his fingers. “Drinking, socializing, snowboarding, and soccer—remember that sport, Cam? Soccer?”
I stared at him. “Yeah, I remember it, asshole.”
Ollie, probably having no idea what he’d just done, spun around and headed for my truck. A muscle started to tick in my jaw. I shoved my hands in my jeans as I glanced at Shortcake. “See you around, Avery.”
Leaving her, I joined Ollie by my truck. Instead of hitting the unlock button to all the doors, I only did mine and climbed in, slamming the door shut behind me.
“Hello,” came Ollie’s muffled voice.
Ignoring him, I turned on the truck. A big, fat raindrop hit the windshield, and I smiled, looking up at the sky.
“Hey!”
Slowly, I raised my hand, giving him the finger.
Ollie jumped when the sky opened up in a torrential downpour, howling like a wounded animal. Only when his hair was plastered to his skull did I unlock his door.
He climbed in, shivering. “What the fuck, man?”
“You deserved it.” I shifted into reverse, backing out. One look at Ollie’s creased forehead told me he was racking his brain for what he did. I sighed. “You really need to lay off the pot.”
“If I’ve heard that once, I’ve heard that a million times, but Mary Jane loves me, and she’s the only girl I love.”