14. WYATT

14

WYATT

I have exactly fifteen minutes to get across campus before Wren leaves for her study session at the library. I managed to slip out of the locker room before Koa or Hart could question my plans for the night.

At the moment, I'm not sure what they are. Even as I stand in front of Wren's door, I don't know why I decided to come over here. I'm simply desperate to see her.

Once again, I'm struck by her voice filtering through the room. I've yet to catch her singing in front of me, but I've heard her occasionally in moments like this when she doesn't know I'm listening.

It hits me even harder than it did the first time. Now I know the woman behind the voice. It isn't just the melody or the lyrics anymore. It's her making me feel something. It's Wren .

I knock a few times. The singing stops abruptly. I wonder if she knows the walls are paper thin and everyone can hear her. She has to. She's complained multiple times about the girl who lives next door having sex—she claims it's one of the reasons she's been studying more and more with me at my place .

Grinning at the peephole, I wait for the door to crack open.

"Hi," Wren greets me. "What are you doing here? Charlie isn't home."

"Okay. Are you going to let me in?" The door is only opened wide enough to see a partial silhouette of Wren's body. She's wearing shorts and a loose blouse in the same fabric. A material that most likely has to be dry cleaned.

"I guess. I was about to head out the door." She says this as if I didn't already know her entire schedule.

"Change of plans. You're hanging out with me the rest of the night. We'll go do something fun, grab a bite to eat, maybe watch a movie."

"I can't, midterms."

I should have seen that one coming.

"Forget the movie. We'll study instead. But you have to eat and doing something fun will reset your brain. You'll retain more of the study material with a clear head."

"I don't know how true that really is. We can study here and order pizza."

I eye her outfit one last time and mask my face of how I really feel about her showing more skin than usual. She is all legs. I long to run my palm over her thick thighs and wrap them around my waist.

"Do you have jeans? Boots? Gloves? Are you prepared for spring break?" As soon as her eyes start bouncing around the room I know I've got her.

"I've made a list of items I think I'll need according to the short amount of research I've been able to do." She pads over to her planner that's sitting on the small peninsula in their kitchen. She fishes out a piece of notebook paper and hands it to me.

"Let's go shopping. We'll get all of this and a few other things I think you'll need," I say after reading over her very detailed list. "We'll have a good time."

"Shopping for clothes is never a good time."

"That's because you've never gone with me."

"I thought we were going shopping for clothes," Wren says, as we pull in front of the farm supply store. It's the best place to find clothes and everything else she needs under one roof.

"We are. You'll have to trust me." I get out of the car before she can start talking. I've figured out this is the best way to handle Wren. I open her door and offer her my hand. "Come on."

"There is a giant iron cow statue on the sidewalk."

I glance over at the six foot metal cow wearing a cowboy hat. "I know. Isn't it great?"

She doesn't get one foot through the door before she is holding her nose. I chuckle at her as I grab a shopping cart.

"What is that smell?" she asks. It comes out nasally with the way she has her nose pinched.

"That is poultry and stock feed eau de parfum ." I attempt a French accent. "You'll get used to it after a while." I lead her to the back of the store where they have all the clothing and shoes. There is also a small dressing room if she needs to try anything on.

"I don't remember it smelling this bad on the farm."

"You were outside for all of five minutes. Trust me. It smells worse." Once you get used to it, it smells like home. "Alright. Here we are." I gesture to the racks of clothing and the back wall of jeans and pants.

She pulls her list out of her purse and starts to look it over. Glancing around the store then back at her list, I can see her mentally plan out the most efficient way to shop. It's fascinating.

I've always gone into things with guns blazing. I get in, get it done, and walk away. If we were shopping for me, I would haphazardly throw things in the cart and hope for the best. Wren walks around the store methodically checking items off her list one at a time.

"Do you want to try those on?" I nod toward the jeans she dropped in the cart.

Her eyes dart toward the small dressing room. "No. They should be okay." She throws in a second pair then moves on to shoes. "Is there anything else you can think of that I need?"

I pick a random cowboy hat off the rack as we pass and place it on her head. Her eyes slant in annoyance, but fuck me if she doesn't look like a dream. Even without the jeans and boots, she is a vision that will haunt me for years to come .

"It doesn't really go with my outfit," she jokes. A shy smile covers her face. This is the first time I think I've ever seen her look unsure about something.

"It looks good on you, birdie."

"As long as you think so," she says, then tosses the hat on top of her pile of clothes. She walks away from me in the direction of the shoe department like she didn't just say something important.

As long as you think so . What did she mean by that? Does she want me to think she looks good? She could be joking but it didn't have her usual deadpan delivery. It was lighter, happier.

The thought stays with me while we finish shopping and drive back to her dorm.

Wren is sprawled out on the floor highlighting index cards and making additional notes on notebook paper. I've spent more time watching her than I have been studying. The thing is, I know agriculture. It's been my entire life. It's in my blood.

What I don't know enough about is her. Wren is something I could study for the rest of my life and never reach the bottom of her depths. There is too much to learn and too many layers to uncover.

I like knowing what she's afraid of and what motivates her. Or that I can bring her a fresh pack of sticky notes and make her smile. And that she keeps Starbursts in her nightstand so Charlie doesn't eat them.

There's a knock on her door. She barely notices, completely lost in her own little world.

"I'll get it." It's probably our pizza. I don't need her answering the door in the tiny bike shorts she changed into.

"There's cash in my purse."

"I've got money."

She stands, grabs her wallet off the counter, and hands me enough cash for the pizza and a tip. "I know, but you paid last time. It's my turn."

"I bought you a hot dog from the cafeteria on my meal plan. Hardly the same thing."

"It's the same to me." She snatches the cash out of my hand. "I'll pay him then."

Her thighs flex as she strides toward the door. The bottom of her sweatshirt sits perfectly on the curve of her ass. "Give me that." I grab the money and maneuver her to where she is standing behind me when I open the door.

I don't want the guy to have an opportunity to look at her. It shouldn't matter. She is completely covered, but no other man sees her like this. They see her in linen pants, silk blouses, and slicked back hair. I get her in bike shorts and T-shirts, her hair a mess on the top of her head, and old sweatshirts from her high school mathlete team.

That's my Wren and I want to keep her to myself.

Fuck, do I want to keep her.

Behind the door is a pimple-faced teen. He looks over my shoulder as he pulls our pizzas out of the warmer. For fucks sake. Wren is setting the table and bent over the damn thing. The kid probably just jizzed his pants. The little shit.

"If you want to keep your balls where they are, I suggest you stop staring at my girl," I say low enough only he can hear.

"Yeah, man. Uh, sorry. Here." He passes me the two large pizzas we ordered.

"Keep the change." I slam the door in his face.

"That was rude."

I ignore her and walk into the living room and set the pizzas down on the empty side of the coffee table. I stack up my textbooks and laptop and put them under the table. "Come in here and eat with me."

Wren's eyes dart between the dining table and the living room before she grabs some napkins and sits beside me on the floor. I slide the pizza boxes over until they are side by side and flip the tops open.

We inhale at the same time, both wanting to breathe in that cheesy, greasy, aroma. She giggles and I bump her shoulder with mine.

"When I was a kid my mama would do pizza picnics on the floor every week in the summer. Dad worked late in the field back then." I serve Wren a piece of pepperoni and the basil mozzarella she likes. "I guess it was her way of giving herself a break and making it fun for us at the same time. "

"I used to love eating at my dad's office when I was little. We would order sandwiches from the deli in his building and eat in the boardroom." She takes a bite of her food and chews slowly. "There was a giant white board," she adds once she swallows.

"I bet you loved that."

"I did." She smiles and I have to look away before I make it awkward by staring at her. I've always thought Wren was pretty since the first time I saw her eating lunch with the girls.

I didn't give her a second look because of her indifference to me. She made it clear she was not my biggest fan. But when she smiles at me, the sight hits me like a hammer to the head. I forget where I am and struggle to find the right words to say.

"What about your mom? You don't talk about her much."

"She's around but she tends to enjoy society life more now that I'm grown and away at school. Her social calendar is busy with lunches and charity work. I don't think I was the daughter she was hoping for."

"What do you mean? It sounds like you've been the perfect daughter growing up." It's obvious she would do anything for her parents. Her whole life has been spent trying to make them proud of her. I would be surprised if making them happy isn't her biggest motivation for getting married.

"I was well behaved. I followed the rules. I didn't have the same interests as my mom. She liked to socialize and be the life of the party. I wanted to be like my dad. I love her and she loves me. We just aren't really close. I think she wanted me to be her little doll and wear dresses. I preferred to wear pants. I didn't want to date or get married. I wanted to work. Save businesses like my dad."

"Yet, you're getting married now," I point out.

"Agreeing to marry Daniel serves a purpose," she says. Her words feel significant and deliberate.

Daniel . He sounds like a tool. How about Dan or Danny? Daniel sounds so formal and boring.

"Let me guess. You're doing it for the sex. It sounds like the kind of guy who could make you scream," I joke. "Does he know you are sleeping with other people?" I haven't stopped thinking about the box of condoms she bought and who she uses them with.

I'm not sure when she would find the time to hook up with some random guy. If she isn't in class, she's tutoring. If she isn't tutoring, she's with me.

"He doesn't get a say in my life until he puts a ring on my finger. I'm sure he's enjoying himself just as much as I am."

"You deserve better." Me. I'm better . Wren tries to read my face and figure out what I'm really trying to say.

I've never done relationships before and I've made my stance clear—I hookup. I mess around and I don't get attached. If she wasn't set on marrying someone else, could we have something real?

I'm always asking her to bend her rules for me. Can I break one of my own for her?

"I've never had a relationship with someone I liked. Attracted to? Sure. "

"Are you attracted to Daniel?"

She gives me a look that I can only describe as annoyed. "He's like the guys I usually sleep with. But I wouldn't say he's my type." She shifts her body. Interesting . What kind of guy is your type? Perhaps long hair, mustache, tall, muscular, and has a fucking amazing personality?

"You're not attracted to him then. Yet, you plan on him being the last man you ever have sex with. There is something really wrong with that." I gesture towards her with my slice of pizza before I take a bite.

"I would have thought out of all my friends you would be the most understanding."

"Why, because I've slept with random women in my past? Sure, I've slept with a generous handful but I found every one of them attractive in some way." How I felt about the women in my past is microscopic. A fleck of dirt in a hundred acre field. Nothing compared to what I feel when I do something as mundane as sitting beside Wren eating pizza.

" Generous handful ." She scoffs. "How many sexual partners have you had?"

"Let's see. There are three hundred and sixty-five days in a year. I lost my virginity at fifteen. So that's…" I pretend to do the math in my head. It's nowhere near that many but it's worth it to see the look on her face.

"Fifteen?" Her eyebrows jump to her hairline. "Was your dick even full size back then?"

I cough to cover up a laugh. "It was proportionate to my body. Still is, if you' re wondering." I smirk at her.

"I'm not," she deadpans. Her fingers reach out to scratch the soft skin over her wrist. She's lying. She starts to scratch on the inside of her wrist or her neck when she's not telling the truth. She is definitely wondering about the size of my cock.

"My number is less than you think."

"I'm not going to judge you. I'll answer first. Make you feel more comfortable," she says. Hearing about how many guys have touched her will make me anything but comfortable. It will make me furious. That's an inside thought I should examine later.

"Go ahead, birdie. What's your number?"

"Six," she says. My eyes bulge. I expected more with the surplus of condoms she has in stock.

"Does that include the guy you're sleeping with now?"

"I'm not sleeping with anyone right now. I haven't been with anyone in…awhile."

"But you bought condoms."

"I like to be prepared." She shrugs. "Well…"

"Well what?"

"What's your number?"

I sigh. "I honestly don't know. I never kept track. I could tell you the first girl and last. That's about it." I'm not ashamed about sleeping around but it's not something I want to talk about in detail with Wren.

"And the next one. You could tell me the name of the next girl you're going to sleep with," she explains. Does she know I want to have sex with her? I guess I haven't been hiding my attraction to her as well as I thought. "Charlie. You're still trying to hookup with her, right?"

Charlie? Is that why she told me she wasn't home earlier? Damn it. I never told Wren. I haven't thought about Charlie like that in over a week. If I was being honest with myself, she was off the table after the first time Wren came over to my place and started cleaning up my room.

"Charlie and I aren't going to happen."

Wren dips her head and stares at the box of pizza in front of her. "I'm sorry. I know you liked her."

I wipe my hands with a napkin then toss it into the pizza lid. Leaning back on my hands, I watch as she consolidates the leftover pizza into one box.

"I didn't though. Like her that is. I didn't even know her."

She laughs. "Because you've gotten to know every girl you've slept with."

"And you have?"

"Yes, I have. I might not know their mother's maiden name or their favorite cereal but I knew enough," she says, pointing out a few things she knows about me. "I didn't want to know more than necessary. Those relationships were only meant to be sexual and nothing more. I'll never let myself get involved like that."

This is not what I want to hear her say The more I think about it, the more I want to be involved with her like that even though I know it will only set me up for heartbreak when she goes back home to Georgia.

"Why?" I ask.

"Because I know how it ends." She stands and collects the trash and puts the leftover pizza in the fridge.

"What does that mean?" I follow her to the kitchen. When she closes the fridge door, I'm right there waiting for her.

"It means I know I'm a lot. I'm bitchy. I say what's on my mind without thinking of the consequences. I have quirks." She motions towards the hallway where she has sticky notes all over the wall. "I know that once they get to know me, they'll get tired and it will end. Instead, I choose to not let my relationships get that far in the first place."

I crowd her against the countertop, careful not to touch her. If I touch her it will be over and I won't be able to stop. I'm not sure she is ready for that.

"You're a smart girl. I don't understand where all these foolish ideas are coming from." I tip her chin to where she's looking at me. "You're not too much. Don't settle for someone who makes you feel like less. Wait for the man who will get on his knees and beg for more of you."

I kiss her forehead and walk away before the temptation to pull her into my arms and start kissing her takes over.