Chapter 8: Cassidy

##Chapter 8: Cassidy

Book One: Stay

A heartbeat ticks by before he reaches out, his larger hand covering mine.

My attention drops to our clasped fingers. Normally, I don't like being touched. When he'd grabbed my arm at the party, everything in me had seized up. But his hand lying gently over mine doesn't trigger a response. Actually, that's a lie. It does do something to me...something I'm unwilling to acknowledge.

"You don't know me." And I don't want him to know me either. Not the real me. Not the one who made such a mess out of her life last year.

I hold my breath and wait for the familiar knives of panic to slice me up inside.

It's a surprise when they don't.

He squeezes my hand, and my gaze bounces up to his. "Is it so difficult to believe that what I already know makes me want to find out more?"

I gulp, breaking eye contact before carefully slipping my hand from his. "I don't date."

That's non-negotiable. There are rules I've set in place for myself this year. And from what I've learned, the biggest problem with rules is when you start bending or breaking them. After that happens, there's nothing to stop you from totally disregarding them and careening out of control.

And I can't afford to careen out of control.

Not again.

When I had started at Western, I'd been fully prepared for the panic attacks to roar back with a vengeance. Surprisingly, they hadn't. In the two weeks I've been on campus, the only one I've suffered from was when Cole grabbed my arm. That debilitating feeling had been enough to give me serious pause where he's concerned.

"How about a non-date then?"

Lost in the whirl of my thoughts, I repeat, "A non-date?"

That sounds suspiciously like a way of sneaking around the rules.

"Yeah. You know, just two friends grabbing something to eat." One of his brows hikes up across his forehead. "You hang out with friends, right?"

"Of course."

Just not very often. I've just transferred in and I'm not the type of girl who goes out of her way to make new friends. Sure, I hang out with Brooklyn. And I reluctantly go out when she needs a wingman...or wingwoman, as the case may be.

As for hitting up all the fraternity and off campus parties...or, in other words-hanging out, drinking myself silly with a crowd of strangers, and screwing around with random guys I'll never speak with again?

Nope. I don't do that.

Not anymore.

I blink, attempting to shake off the icy cold memories that are slyly wrapping themselves around me.

That's not a road I'm willing to go down again.

"Cassidy?" Cole reaches out, tentatively stroking my hand with gentle fingers. "Are you all right?" I stiffen, waiting for the thin threads of panic to suffocate me.

When I realize it's not going to happen, I force the stiff corners of my lips to rise. "I'm fine."

For a second time, I slip my hand from his and focus on gathering up my books before shoving them into my brown leather bag. Refusing to make eye contact, I shoot to my feet. "Dinner sounds great, but I really need to get moving. Sorry. Maybe next time."

Little does he realize there will never be a next time.

For someone so large, he's surprisingly agile as he rises to his feet and towers over me.

"You need more than a protein bar if you're going to get any work done at the library. You'll probably end up with a killer headache if you don't eat a decent meal. I promise we'll find something fast so you can hit the books."

Indecision floods through me as I bite down on my lower lip. My gaze slides to him as I silently weigh the consequences of spending more time alone with him.

He's dangerous.

He makes you feel things you aren't ready for.

"Okay." The word is out of my mouth before I can stop it. "But this is not a date," I add. "It's just like you said, we're two people grabbing something to eat."

It doesn't mean anything.

My belly rumbles again as if re-solidifying my decision.

A satisfied smile curves his lips upward. "You're finally admitting that we're friends?"

I glare but can't summon any real anger toward him. "Don't push it," I mutter.

With a grin, he holds the door open for me. "Right."

As we walk out of the math tutoring center, I say goodnight to Lisa. She waves back, her eyes crawling all over Cole. I give him a little side-eye, wondering if he's aware of the effect he has on the opposite sex. I remember the girl we ran into last Friday while walking to class, and the other one who'd waved frantically at him in Psychology.

Cole seems to be a fan favorite with the girls at Western.

They can have him as far as I'm concerned, because I have zero interest in starting anything with him. Even if he's dreamy in the looks department, smells delicious, and has dimples that make my panties flood with heat.

I almost wince.

He smiles at Lisa, giving her a polite nod but nothing more. There is absolutely nothing flirtatious about his manner. No appreciative or lingering looks. In fact, there's no checking out of any kind going on, which is strange because Lisa is super cute with long dark hair, blue eyes, and gravity-defying boobs.

And Cole doesn't even blink in her direction.

From the slight frown marring Lisa's pretty face, she doesn't understand his reaction either.

I almost wish he'd checked her out in front of my face. It would make everything so much easier. When it comes down to it, I don't want to like Cole. There's already way too much to like about him. I can practically feel myself getting sucked in by him and I'm still trying to fight against the lure of it.

Hopefully, this dinner will be short and sweet because I'm already regretting this decision. Instead of turning toward Union like I expect, Cole walks towards the parking lot.

"Where are we going?"

"My car is parked right over here. I thought we could grab something from Leno's."

This has me stopping in my tracks. "We're not going to the Union?"

"Leno's is only a few blocks away, and the sandwiches are fantastic. Not to mention fast. Much better than anything we'll find at the Union."

As if the subject has already been settled, he walks through the parking lot.

Twilight has just started to fall, making the shadows stretch and lengthen on the ground.

"Come on, Cassidy. I promise, forty minutes tops and then I'll drop you off at the library. If we go to the Union, you'd have to walk all the way across campus. Either way, it'll end up taking the same amount of time. And the food is way better at Leno's."

Unconsciously, I trail after him.

What he says makes sense...sort of.

As soon as I'm at his side, he reaches out, nabbing my fingers with his own. I glance down at our clasped hands before glancing at him in confusion. Of course, there's a smile tipping the corners of his lips upward. Something unwanted pings at the bottom of my belly.

I wish I could get used to the feelings he dredges up inside me. They would be so much easier to ignore if that were the case.

"This isn't a date," I repeat in a voice that sounds high-pitched and twitchy.

"Whatever you say."

His response only makes me twitchier.

Regret swamps me as he tows me through the parking lot until we arrive at a sports car.

My gaze licks over it before one brow rises. "You own a Shelby Mustang?"

Surprise flares in his eyes as a slow smile spreads across his face. "Pure Detroit muscle, baby."

He strokes a hand gently over the exterior. Clearly there is a real love affair going on between them. I almost smirk. Maybe I don't have anything to be worried about after all.

A smile touches my lips as my attention gets pulled back to the vehicle. She really is a beauty. Electric blue, with two thick white racing stripes down the middle.

"2008?" I ask, completely taken in by the gleaming Mustang.

Inspecting the rims, I wait for an answer. Honestly, I'd be surprised if I was wrong. When he remains silent, I glance over at him. I've seen enough muscle cars to identify the make and model. My dad and I used to attend classic car shows.

Corvettes and Mustangs. Those were his favorites.

Don't get me wrong, I like Mustangs too. But I really love Camaros. It's been over a year since I've been to a car show.

The smile slips from my lips.

When my gaze locks on his, he says, "I think I might love you, Cassidy."

I snort. Guys are so like that. Anytime a chick knows even the slightest detail about a muscle car, or cars in general for that matter, their minds literally explode. It's ridiculous, not to mention sexist, but I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I get off on it a teeny-tiny bit.

Ignoring the declaration, I run my hand over her sleek polished lines. And yeah, even I refer to them as hers. Weird, I know, but there's just something beautiful and sexy about muscle cars. So, I completely understand why guys refer to them as females.

"Five hundred and forty horses with a V-8 engine. She's gorgeous." I glare. "You're an idiot for keeping her at school."

He blinks. Twice. "Say it again," he murmurs. His voice is all thick and gravelly.

"Gladly." Then I repeat with more emphasis, "You're an idiot."

He waves at me. "No, the other part. Just whisper it real slow-like. Maybe lick your lips a bit." Raising his brows, he waits expectantly.

All right, I can't help it. Laughter bubbles up from me as I shake my head. "Come on, let's go. I've got a lot of studying to get through tonight. I can't stand around all-night gawking at your precious car."

Before I can grab the handle, Cole is there, popping open the door for me. Just as I slide onto the soft-as-butter leather seat, he reaches across my body to fasten the belt. As our gazes collide, I can almost feel the electricity snap and sizzle between us.

"That's twice now, Cassidy. You better watch out because I'm on a roll."

"Twice?" I echo.

With deft fingers, he clicks the belt into place as his attention stays pinned to mine. "That I've made you laugh."

As difficult as it feels, I drag my gaze from his to stare out the windshield before inhaling a gulp of air. Because he's right.

That's twice.

Two more than usual.

Dangerous.

Completely dangerous.