Page 112 of Disarm
I roll my eyes and slip out of the truck, feeling his gaze on my back all the way to the door.
Inside, the dorm smells like burnt popcorn and somebody’s Axe body spray. I sign in with the RA, take the stairs two at a time, and let myself into my room. My bed is still unmade from this morning. A couple handouts from class sit scattered across the desk. Everything feels off.
I sit on the edge of the mattress and stare at my phone, willing a text from him to appear, even though it’s been five minutes and he’s probably still driving.
Instead, the screen lights up with a different name.
Dad.
Shit.
Dad
Call me when you’re free.
My stomach drops.
Of course. The first thing that goes through my mind is Harrington.
The restaurant.
Dinner with Miggy.
My pulse picks up, a drumline in my throat. I highly consider not answering. Pretending I never saw it. But the longer I stare at his name, the more another fear slithers in.
If I don’t pick up, he’ll just keep calling. Or keep texting. Or worse, show up.
Rip the Band-Aid, Caleb.
My hand shakes a little as I hit call and he answers on the first ring.
“Caleb,” he says, voice smooth and too calm. “Thank you for calling back.”
I swallow. “Yeah. Uh. Hi.”
“How was Reno?” he asks. “I caught the game. You killed it on the court. Well done.”
For a second, I’m so thrown off by the compliment that I forget everything else.
“Thanks,” I say cautiously.
“You looked… confident,” he continues. “Composed. That’s what I like to see.”
My chest does a weird, painful twist at the compliment. The ten-year-old inside me preens. The twenty-year-old wants to hide.
Then his tone shifts minutely.
“I also heard,” he says, “that you were seen out at dinner on Wednesday. With Miguel.”
Fucking Harrington and his big-ass mouth.
My throat goes dry. “Oh. Yeah. We, uh. We went out for some dinner before I left for Nevada.”
“A date?” he asks, too evenly.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“We were… just eating,” I hedge. “He wasn’t gonna be able to come see the game. So you know, we just did something normal.”
