I waited until she was done and then followed her across the Den. She arched a brow at me. “Following me?”
“Like a true serial killer,” I replied.
“You know we weren’t being serious, right? And I’m sorry about saying something to them about it. They just started pestering me about you and the next thing I know—”
“It’s okay.” I dropped my arm over her shoulders, steering her toward the cluster of trees outside of the building. It was chilly and she hunkered down, pressing closer, whether she realized it or not. “I don’t care.”
“You don’t care?”
I shook my head. Maybe it should bother me that there was now an audience to my repeated rejection, but it just didn’t. I glanced down at her and smiled. Her attention was focused on one of the blue vans that were always on campus.
“Uh-oh,” I murmured.
“What?” She looked up at me.
I lowered my arm, catching a strand of hair blowing across her face and tucking it behind her ear. Ever since the night on the roof of Byrd, I took every freaking opportunity to touch her and she let me. “You’re thinking.”
“I am.”
“About?”
“Nothing important.” She smiled absently. It wasn’t a huge smile, but she was smiling more. “You going home this weekend?”
“I am.” I moved closer, gathering up her hair and separating it into two long sections. I smiled, thinking she looked cute like that. “I’m leaving tomorrow morning, bright and early. I’m not coming back until Sunday night. So, no eggs for you this week.”
“Boo.” Her face fell a little.
“Don’t cry too much about it.” I brushed the ends of her hair across her cheek and tried again with her doing something this weekend instead of being alone. “Are you going to take Brit up on her offer and go home with her?”
She shook her head no. “I’m just going to hang out here and get some reading done.”
“Nerd.”
“Jerk.”
I smiled as I spread her hair over her shoulders. “You know what?”
“What?”
Taking a deep breath, I stepped back and shoved my hands into the pockets of my jeans. “You should go out with me tonight since I’ll be gone all weekend.”
She laughed. “I’m not going out with you.”
“Then hang out with me.”
Her brow puckered. “How’s that any different from going out with you?”
“How is me asking you to hang out with me tonight any different than us hanging out on Sunday?”
The knit between her brows started to fade. “What do you want to do?”
I shrugged casually, but my heart was pounding like a drum. “Order some food in and watch a movie.”
She shifted her weight, wary. “That sounds like a date.”
“That’s not a date with me, sweetheart.” I laughed. “I’d take you out, like out in public. This is just two friends hanging out, watching a movie and eating food.”
Her lips formed a tight line as she looked away. Several moments passed, and I steeled myself for yet another rejection. For some reason, if she said no to this, it would sting worse than the others. I didn’t know why, but if I couldn’t get her to do this, I was really going to have to reevaluate what the hell I was doing.