Page 15 of Anchored To You

"It was good," I mumble, not taking my eyes off him this time.

"Thanks for your help earlier. I wasn't late and didn't have a professor on my ass, so I owe you." He turns around before I can stop staring. He raises an eyebrow but doesn't say a word. But from the smirk on his face, he knows exactly what I was staring at. "Are you already studying?"

"No. I'm just trying to get everything from today organized before I have a whole new set of syllabi thrown at me tomorrow. I just don't want to fall behind."

"Damn, you're way more organized than me. Maybe I should be more like you. Teach me your ways." He jokes, taking a spot on his mattress. He pulls out some books and papers and lays them out in front of him.

Laughing, I shake my head, "I don't think there's anything to teach. I can't fall behind, or else I'll be trailing the entire year.”

"I know how that is," he mutters, rubbing his hand down his face. “Last year, I started the year off on such a high note, but shortly after classes started, I struggled. The content began getting harder, and then Coach put more pressure on us, and I cracked. I couldn't keep up. And then I had to get a part-time job and, to be honest, I'm shocked I made it through the school term intact.”

"Damn." Fuck, I didn’t realize how much Beck was going through last year.

“Yeah,” he replies, his voice soft. “I mean, it's not a good excuse, but it's one of the reasons I didn't reach out to you last year.”

"Don't worry about it," I lie, plastering a fake smile on my face. “It was just a fun night between two guys. I have nights like that all the time.”

Lie, lie, fucking lie. I'm such a damn liar. I never have nights like that. That was the first time I felt comfortable going home with someone I had just met, and it helped me to realize that I'm not that way at all. But if I’m being honest, it makes me feel better knowing I’m not the reason he ghosted me. It had to do with himself and what he was enduring.

"Oh, you do?" He asks, directing my attention back to my lie.

Ugh, why would I say that? It just fell out of my mouth, and there’s no way I can say ‘just kidding’ now. Fuck, I’m an idiot.

"Yep, all the time. So don't feel bad about what happened. We're adults. We hooked up. No need to make it awkward or anything."

"Yeah, of course," he replies quietly, looking at me.

Fuck, if he looks any deeper he'll realize I'm lying. He tilts his head, and I jump up from my bed, grabbing my shower caddy. "I'm gonna go to the shower. I'll see you soon."

"Okay."

I dash out of the room, beeline straight for the showers. What the hell, Talon? Now I have to pretend I'm some type of playboy who hooks up all the time. Closing my eyes, I sigh loudly as I enter the bathroom. How do I end up in these situations? I take my phone out of my caddy and pull up my text thread with Hannah.

Me

SOS. Need help. I might have created a problem for myself.

She'll know exactly what to do.

I hope.

Chapter

Eight

BECK

The first two weeks of school have flown by. I'm loving all the classes I'm in, but I love working at Zomb-Bar even more. I've met a ton of new people and am having a great time. Yeah, it's tiring as hell, but the tips make it so worth it. I've already been able to save a lot, and I've even‌ been able to make a little extra for a treat here and there.

Having Bakeenstein's so close to Zomb-Bar is a blessing and a curse. I've probably gained at least five pounds because I have to stop in everyday on my way to my shift. But I can't help it. The sweets are so damn good. It's the one thing I've allowed myself to spend some of my money on. The rest of it goes into a little piggy bank under my bed. Talon and I haven't had to come to work at the same time yet, but I know he's gone to the bakery too because I'll see the trash sitting out on his desk some days.

Speaking of Talon, I was worried things would be awkward between us, but things have actually been great. We don't see too much of each other, but when we do, we're able to talk. Hell, sometimes I can even make him laugh, which is shocking to me. When I could finally tell him about what happened, I thought we would have had a deeper conversation about it. Or at least have some type of discussion. But I ended up tongue-tied after hearing I was just another notch on his belt. Which I should be thankful for, because then that means Wyatt was wrong about Talon caring so much about our night together. At first, I didn't believe it. But for the past two weeks, there have been a couple of times when I've arrived at our room only to see a stupid sock on the door. I haven't met any of the people he's brought home, but I know they've been there.

Which is fine. Totally fine. Completely fine.

Just like last year, I don't have time for hookups.

Once the bar is closed, I help the Zombies that work there clean down all the tabletops. One bartender, Peter, comes over to lend a hand, stacking all ‌the chairs on top of the tables.