Filed to story: Katy and Brayden Cooper Novel
Still, I have a fake relationship to maintain, so I take it. Together, we start walking through the hall, and of course, people are staring and whispering. And because it’s Braydon, he decides now is the perfect moment to reach down and pick an invisible speck of dirt from my hair.
Yup, because I’m very sure nothing’s there.
Once we’re out of the building, I swat his hand away.
“Hey,” he protests, looking around. “People might be watching. You want to ruin everything?”
I spin to face him with my hands on my hips. “Since when are you suddenly so invested in this whole thing?”
“Since forever,” he says casually. “The future of my GPA depends on it.”
I roll my eyes. As if. Something’s definitely going on with him, and I need to figure it out before my brain fries.
“Why did you come here?” I ask. “And you didn’t even text me.”
“Must I?”
“Yes.” I whisper. “How else am I supposed to prepare myself?”
He smirks, stepping closer until that annoyingly good Braydon scent fills my nostrils. “Are you saying I make you flustered, Peach?”
I scoff, crossing my arms. “Flustered my foot. It’s embarrassing when everyone’s staring at you.
Seriously, I don’t even get it.”
And yeah… maybe there are moments like when he kissed me last night, or when he leaned in too close in the library where I feel the pull and heat. But then reality snaps back, and he’s just Braydon.
Just Braydon.
He leans down like he’s going to kiss me again and I don’t jerk back this time, because apparently my brain is out to lunch. “Weren’t you flustered when I came in? You kind of…stammered or something.”
I poke his forehead with my finger. “I was surprised, okay? But sorry to disappoint, your whole mak e girls swoon act doesn’t work on me.”
I start to walk away, only for him to fall in step beside me. “Not at all?”
What is wrong with him today?
“Not at all.” I respond.
“Even when we kiss?”
I pause, shooting him a glare. “No. Maybe we have sexual chemistry like you said, but you don’t make my stomach flutter or whatever.”
He studies me for a long beat, those damn green eyes unreadable and then, he nods. “Catch you later.”
He turns and walks away, but even without seeing his face, I can tell his shoulder is stiff, like he’s pissed or maybe just…being dramatic. But why would he care that I don’t get flustered?
KATY’S POV
I usually pride myself on making solid decisions. I plan. I think ahead and I don’t just dive into stupid situations. But agreeing to go to this Zach guy’s party? Yeah, worst decision of the semester. Maybe of my college career.
I’m standing in front of my mirror, straightening the hem of my leather skirt, and I can’t tell if it’s my body that looks wrong or the outfit itself. The skirt is short and I paired it with a plain button-up and a jacket.
Somehow, the effortlessly hot, cool-girl vibe I’m going for is not showing. At all. I look like I’m going to two different events and didn’t have the decency to pick one.
I tug at the shirt, then adjust my jacket. Still, it doesn’t look better.
“Done?” Allie’s voice cuts in, and she pokes her head into my room. The second her over me, her expression shifts so fast I wish I could hide under my bed. “What the hell is that,
Evans?”
I turn to face her, twisting my fingers together with my lips caught between my teeth because when Allie switches to last names, I already know I’ve messed up.
“Is it that bad?” I ask, wincing.
She steps in fully, eyes running over me again before she shakes her head. “What am I gonna do with you?”
“It’s not “I start to defend myself, but she’s already at my closet, sliding hangers. One by one she pulls things out, glances at them, and tosses them onto the bed.
“Is this even a dress?” She mutters, tossing one of my favorite gowns.
I cross my arms, glaring at the growing pile. “You know, you’re kind of a bad stylist.”
She doesn’t even look up. “Says the girl wearing that to a college party.”
I want to argue, but I can’t because she looks unfairly good in her ripped jeans, crop top, and leather jacket. Her whole look screams confidence while mine is more… librarian who got lost at a biker bar.
Allie goes through half my wardrobe before she finally spins around, hands on her hips. “Don’t you have anything that even pretends to be party-appropriate?”
“You know I don’t party,” I shoot back, grabbing the clothes she tossed and shoving them back into the wardrobe. I gesture at myself. “And what’s so bad about this one?”
“Umm, let’s see…” She taps her chin. “The skirt is too long for a leather skirt.”
“Excuse me, it’s above my knees.”
“You’re wearing a top that has too busy to care written on it. And that jacket?” She points at it. “My great-aunt from two hundred years ago has that jacket.”
I groan, peel the jacket off, and toss it onto the bed with way more force than necessary. “I quit. Forget it. I’m not going to this thing.”
She glares at me. “The hell you’re not. Get up. I’ll grab something from my closet.”
“Nope.” I wave both hands. “There’s no way.”
And it’s not just because I’m a few pounds bigger than her, but it’s also because Allie owns exactly zero pieces of clothing that can be called decent. Sometimes I seriously wonder how we ended up best friends when we’re walking opposites.
She ignores me completely, grabs my arm, and yanks me up. “On your feet, young lady!”
“How did you even get invited?” I groan, struggling against her grip.
“I get invited to everything,” she says proudly, already dragging me toward her room. But just as she’s about to shove me inside, a knock rattles the front door.