Brady texted me this afternoon, saying he’d pick us up at seven. Jessa was going to go to the show anyway, so she agreed to come with Brady and me. I don’t think she understands my reservations about me being alone with him, and I’m not about to fill her in on how much he scares me and why.

He’s someone so opposite from myself. Two years ago, I wouldn’t have picked him out of a lineup. Sure, he’s attractive, but he’s not my usual well-groomed, polo-sporting type. My dad would have a coronary if I strolled in our front door with my hand in Brady’s.

With all that said, I can’t remember feeling so relaxed with anyone. When I’m in Brady’s presence, I matter. That’s a different situation than the ones with the guys who came before him. As though what I have to say is important, he listens intently and cares about the words flowing out of my mouth. My guard falls a tiny bit more every time he’s around, and that’s really hard for me to handle right now.

I have to remember the promise I made to myself. My decision has been made. I’ll go to his show and pay for his meal. Then, that will be the end of Brady Carsen in my life.

At seven on the dot, my cell beeps. It’s Brady, telling me he’s outside. I take one more look in the mirror. My straightened hair falls a couple of inches past my shoulders, and my eyes are smoky with dark eyeliner and mascara. Since I swore off red lipstick when I left Drayton, I opted for a nice soft shade of pink lip gloss. Smoothing out my blue blouse over my dark skinny jeans, I don’t recognize myself in the mirror.

Closing my eyes, I grab the last ounce of willpower I keep on reserve. I repeat to myself, It will be okay. Relax and have fun. Brady has no expectations, like the guys before him.

“You look great. Let’s go.” Jessa smacks my ass, taking the lead to the door.

“Thanks. So do you.” I grab my phone and lip gloss off the dresser, shoving them into a small cross-body purse.

Jessa’s giddy with excitement as I follow her down the hall. Her short skirt with checkered tights and Dr. Martens make her look so much sexier than me. A twinge of jealousy sweeps over me that Brady might prefer Jessa over me.

Who wouldn’t? If someone looked at the three of us together, the majority of people would pick the two of them as the likely couple.

When we walk outside, Brady is leaning against a midnight-blue Camaro with two white racing stripes down the middle. He smiles up at me and pushes his body off the car to open the passenger door for us.

“Hey,” I say, my eyes focused on his shoes, not reaching his eyes.

“Hey,” he returns, motioning for us to get in the car.

“Brady, you remember Jessa.” I signal my hand out to her.

“Yeah. Hey, Jessa.” Brady shakes her hand.

“Hi, Brady,” Jessa responds. Her lips turn up in appreciation as she eyes him up and down before she climbs into the back of his sports car.

Right before I bend down to get in the car, Brady reaches around my waist and pulls me in for a hug. His cheek rubs along mine.

“You look incredible,” he whispers in my ear.

I melt.

“Thank you.” I try to compose myself. “You look pretty good yourself.” I quickly sit in my seat before he notices how red my cheeks have become. After only one moment, the debate in my head starts waning.

“God, Sadie, what did he say?” Jessa leans forward from the backseat while I watch Brady make his way around the car to the driver’s side.

He’s so damn hot. I’m sure I have no shot at denying this pull to him.

“Shh…I’ll tell you later.” I raise my hand in the air, fearing he’ll think we’re talking about him.

“You’d better.” She relaxes back into her seat and secures her seat belt.

Brady eases into his charcoal-colored fabric seat. He’s wearing another vintage band T-shirt that looks as old as the band displayed. When he turns the ignition, I notice a couple of black leather bands around his right wrist. The pit of my stomach flutters.

“We Built This City” by Starship blares, and Brady’s hand hurries to the knob before pressing a button on the radio. “Sorry, this must have come on after the song I was listening to before,” he says as an excuse to the music playing, looking embarrassed.

I remain silent and refrain from mentioning that I saw him press the button that switches it from CD to radio. I decide not to tell him that I’m a huge eighties music fan. Maybe another time.

Did I just admit that I want to see him another time?

“It sounds like your music, Sadie,” Jessa chimes in from the backseat.

I wish I could turn around and give her an evil look. Brady peers over my way and grins, waiting for me to add something.

“I’m pleading the Fifth.” I stare ahead with a small smile, ignoring his eyes on me.

“Me, too.” He smiles and turns his attention toward the road, putting the car in drive.

---

Aces is an actual bar, not like the place where I saw The Invisibles play last week. It’s small, but they’ve made the most of the space. With the stage positioned to the right of the door, booths line the wall along the windows with tables filling the floor. A small bar is situated in the left corner. By the amount of Invisibles paraphernalia splashed around the walls by the stage, I’d say they play here a lot.

Brady entwines our hands and guides me to the first circular booth off to the right of the stage before motioning for me to scoot in. The place seems empty, except for a few middle-aged men sitting on the stools around the bar and a few couples occupying the tables. This is definitely not the crowd from last week.

“We have to get everything set up. Do you want something to drink?” Brady asks, staying on the outside of the booth while Jessa and I slide in.

“No, I’m fine. Thank you,” I say.

“All right. I won’t be long.” He hesitates, standing by the table. “You sure you don’t need anything?”

“Jeez, just go. I’ll take care of her.” Jessa shoos him away with her hand while my shoulders slump at her annoyed remark.

Brady grins and turns around to head down a hallway.

“Be nice, Jessa. He’s just being polite,” I tell her.

“That was nice. I could have told him to go get his fucking equipment and give you some damn breathing room,” she responds, straight-faced.

“God, Jessa,” I sigh. It was cute that he was worried about me.

“Well, he can’t stop staring at you. It’s making me sick. Look!” She motions her head to Brady.

He’s walking back down the hall, holding a large black square box. His eyes are set on me the whole time. When our eyes find each other, he winks.

“Whatever.” I ignore her comment. “I’m in his direct line of vision.”

Three other members follow Brady up onstage.

A spiky black-haired guy with an eyebrow ring and a huge tattoo that covers his elbow emerges first. With a guitar swung over his shoulder, he carries a piece of the drum kit with as much attitude as the guys I hung around with at Drayton. After he places the drum down, he glances our way, and his stunning blue eyes set me back. One side of his mouth turns up in interest while his eyes shift between Jessa and me, making me slide down in the booth and Jessa perk up.

The second band member follows, hopping onstage with another guitar instrument across his back and cymbals overflowing in his arms. He’s shorter than Brady, but his body is completely rock hard. I can make out every curve and crevice in his chest and shoulders through the tight Invisibles shirt he’s wearing. Buzzed blond hair covers his head, and I don’t see any piercings, but tattoos are scattered on his arms. Unlike the first guy, he’s concentrated on his instrument, disregarding the audience.

The last band member lingers a few steps behind the others, holding two drums. Once his back is to me, I see a pair of drumsticks sticking out of his back pocket. Even though he’s wearing a black tank top, it looks like a full shirt with the amount of tattoos covering his chest and arms. Immediately, I slouch lower. His appearance intimidates me, confirming again how out of place I am in Brady’s world.

The phrase, One of these things is not like the others, rings in my head.

“Holy shit. Check out his band. I would take any one of them.” Jessa gawks up at the stage with wide eyes, like it’s a buffet.

“Haven’t you seen them before?” I inquire.

“Just last week, and I was a little preoccupied,” she says with an innocent smile.

“Oh, yeah, Mr. Rebel,” I utter in disgust, reminded of her tongue down his throat.

“I’m getting all hot from just thinking about him,” she says, fanning her face. “That guy could kiss.”

“I sure as shit hope you are talking about me.” The spiky dark-haired guy plops down next to Jessa, his eyes roaming her body.

“Um…no.” She shifts her body my way, putting her back toward him.

“Give me five minutes, and you will be,” he responds to her back.

Jessa remains quiet, which is a strange occurrence.

In the month I’ve known her, she has never once held her tongue. She transferred here as well, which makes me wonder if she’s running from something in her past, but I’ve never asked her, and she’s never asked me. It works for us.

Jessa hits my hip with her hand, pushing me out of the booth. I’m confused as to why she’s trying to run away. Usually, she walks toward the guys.

“Come on, Sadie. Let’s go get a drink.”

Brady slides in next to me, trapping us in the booth. “Don’t worry; Roni will come over,” he tells Jessa.

Her face is red, and I swear, I can hear her heart rapidly beating.

“So, this is Rob”—Brady points to the spiky black-haired guy—“Trey”—he points to the drummer—“and the muscleman over there is Hulk. Guys, this is Sadie and Jessa.”

I feel their eyes on me. They are judging and evaluating me. From the expressions on their faces, I assume Brady has already spoken about me, which terrifies and thrills me at the same time.

“Hulk?” Jessa questions, narrowing her eyes.

“Actually, it’s Dex. These dipshits think it’s funny to call me Hulk. They’re just jealous because I could kick all their asses.” He smirks at us.

“It’s nice to meet all of you,” I say.

“You, too,” Trey sincerely replies.

Dex nods his head in agreement.

Rob’s eyes travel from my chest and back up to my face, and his disappointment isn’t missed. He shrugs his shoulders but nods toward me. I bet he has already typecast me and knows that Brady shouldn’t be with me. As his friend, he must sense my baggage, and he doesn’t approve. I’m not sure I can disagree with him.

In the meantime, Jessa has snuggled next to me, hip-to-hip and shoulder-to-shoulder, making me move closer to Brady, who only smiles and rests his arm along my shoulders. Shivers roll off my back as his thumb accidentally touches my exposed neck.

A waitress, probably in her late thirties, stops by the table. Her hair is piled high in a ponytail, and she’s dressed in a pair of jeans with an Aces T-shirt adorned with a name tag that reads Veronica. She pulls out her pad of paper and a pen, looking down at us. Her standoffish approach makes me skittish.

“What will it be tonight, boys?”

When her eyes peer up, she notices Jessa and me.

Rob starts to spout his order, but she interrupts him, “Whoa. You have ladies with you tonight. Have some manners. They go first.” She stares over at me.

I’m unsure of what I should order. I feel Brady looking at me, and Rob’s disgusted for having to wait.

“Vodka tonic with a lime, please.” My voice is soft.

Rob rolls his eyes.

Jessa surprises me by ordering the same instead of her usual beer. All the boys order a round of beers, except for Brady, who orders his usual, and Trey asks for a shot of tequila to go with his.

“Thanks, Roni,” Brady says before she leaves to fill our order.

Roni comes back with our drinks, and she places a glass of ice and a bottle of water in front of Brady.

Brady has surprised me again, and my shocked face shows it.

“I don’t drink before shows.” He shrugs.

“Don’t let the preacher boy fool you. He never drinks,” Rob shouts over.

Brady’s eyes warn him to shut up.

“Are you a recovering alcoholic?” Jessa leans forward across my shoulder, directing her question to Brady.

“I drink, just not very often and never before a show,” he answers her, pouring his water into the cup.

“I think that’s awesome,” I murmur so that the rest of the table doesn’t hear.

He turns his head toward me, making our lips millimeters apart. If either of us moves an inch, they’ll touch. The butterflies swarming begin to take flight, uncontrollably circling in my stomach.

“Thank you.” The corner of his mouth lifts.

My eyes fixate on a drop of water resting in the center of his pouty bottom lip, and I deny myself the immense urge to lick it off. His hand cups my shoulder, holding me in place, and then he begins to pull me closer. I lick my lips in anticipation.

“Cut that smoochy shit out. It’s time to go up.”

A napkin bounces off Brady’s face and lands in my lap, and I’m thrown back to reality.

I blink, and Brady’s soft brown eyes peer back at me. Our moment has ended, and disappointment is evident in both of our eyes.

What was I thinking? I told myself that this was not going to happen. But, oh, how I’ve obsessed over how he might kiss.

“Enjoy the show,” Brady says, looking from Jessa to me. He inches over, and his hot breath hits my ear. “Please stay this time,” he whispers.

I’m left in a hot mess while he jumps onto the stage.

“Holy crap, Sadie. What was that?” Jessa asks the minute he’s out of range.

“What? Nothing.” I shake my head, trying to figure this out myself.

“It was like you two were in your own world. Like the rest of us weren’t sitting right here,” she says. She finishes her drink before raising her hand up in the air, signaling for Roni.

I ignore her comment because I’m as confused as she is. Brady has a pull over me, making it incredibly hard for me to keep my promise to myself.

Just stick to the plan. Show and dinner. Then, no more Brady after tonight.

Roni brings Jessa her second drink right before the lights go down for The Invisibles to start playing. Aces has filled up in the time we’ve been sitting down. I stare at the line of students outside the window, waiting to pay their cover charge to see the show.

Relaxing, I lean back in the vinyl booth to enjoy the show from the killer seat Brady gave us. Thankfully, Jessa gives me a little more breathing room now that Rob is onstage.

“Are you ready out there?” Brady’s voice fills the bar.

Trey hits the drums. Everyone cheers and rushes up toward the stage, like last weekend.

Surprisingly, my body moves to the beat. Every song he downloaded to my iPod is embedded in my mind. It’s adorable, the way he glances from the corner of his eye to make sure we’re still here. When the edges of his lips turn up at me, I melt into the sticky vinyl.

The crowd around the stage jumps up and down while their heads bob back and forth to the music. Brady’s eyes divert back to them, showing them he’s there for their enjoyment and that he wants them to have a good time. His eyes settle on a girl in the front row, and she raises her hand up in the air. He reaches down in return, grasping a few of her fingers, and a sudden pang of jealousy hits me.

I’m just a game to him.

I only spot her short black hair from the back and notice she’s smaller, more petite than me. Then, the crowd engulfs her, and I lose her. But her body movement makes me believe that she and Brady either have or had something going on.

An hour later, The Invisibles finish their set. Brady’s soaked gray T-shirt clings to his body, revealing all the creases around his lean muscles. He holds up his finger to me, indicating for me to give him a minute.

I lost count of how many times he looked over at me during the show, wondering if I had deserted him, like last time. The smile that absorbed his face when he saw me still in the round booth was enough to make me want to jump onstage and into his arms. He entices a safety feeling out of me I didn’t think I possessed anymore or could exist inside me.

Brady leaves the stage, and the dark-haired girl follows him down the hallway. I wonder what’s going on, but I quickly remind myself that it’s none of my business. I’ll be out of his life after tonight anyway. After only a few encounters with him, it’s hard to believe how badly it will hurt me.

“Who’s the girl?” Jessa asks next to me.

“I don’t know,” I respond, stirring the small straw in my drink. I watch the nearly dissolved ice cubes spin around into oblivion.

“Oh my God.” She hits her shoulder to mine. “You try to act cool, like he doesn’t make you all wet, but look at you now.”

“What are you talking about?” I continue to stare at the nearly nonexistent ice cubes twirling around in my glass. I resemble them—nonexistent to the world. I no longer matter to anyone or have any one important person in my life. That person left me, and the heartbreak will never leave.

“Are you ready?” Brady appears on the outside of the booth with his hand out. He changed his shirt to a long-sleeved blue Henley. “Or do you want to stay for the next band?”

I glance up at him, and all those doubts that filled my brain seconds ago vanish when his perfectly straight white teeth gleam down at me. For some reason, he makes me feel alive.

“Who’s that girl?” Jessa asks before I can answer him.

“Who?” Brady’s forehead scrunches. He appears not to know whom Jessa is talking about.

“The one who’s eye-fucking you from over there.” Jessa points to the dark-haired girl.

Looking at her face, I can tell she’s a few years younger than us. Her black bob haircut has a few dyed strips of red. A cute striped dress that ends mid-thigh barely covers her tight black leggings. The way she’s staring over at Brady’s ass confirms she wants him.

Brady turns around to see where we are looking, and then he turns back to us. “That’s Kara. She’s a…family friend,” he stutters.

He’s probably lying, but I have no right to question him at this point. Even if he is seeing her, we aren’t exclusive, and it won’t matter after tonight anyway.

“Oh.” Jessa rolls her eyes, matching my thoughts.

“So, what do you want to do?” He gazes down to me.

“Um…I don’t really care. Whatever you want is fine.”

“Then, let’s go. I’m starving, and you owe me a meal.” He smirks, holding his hand out for me to take.

“All right.” I grab his hand, continuing with my plan. “Are you coming?” I turn around to Jessa, who is still sitting in the booth.

The other Invisibles make their way over, all wearing fresh shirts with drinks in their hands. Rob scoots in next to her, but I’m positive she’ll slide out to join us.

She looks at him and back to me. I raise my eyebrows, questioning her because this is a no-brainer. Before the band’s set, she couldn’t get away from Rob fast enough, and now, she’s debating whether or not to stay with him.

“I’ll take her home,” Rob chimes in, his eyes not leaving hers.

“Are you sure, Jessa?” I ask, concerned about what exactly he’ll do with her.

“Yeah. I’ll see you back at the dorm.” She waves her hand toward me, keeping her eyes locked with Rob’s.

Just when I think I’ve figured the girl out, she does a one-eighty.

“All right, only if you’re sure,” I respond cautiously, waiting for her.

“Just go, WASP. I’ve got her.” Rob raises his eyebrows to challenge me.

“What the fuck, Rob? Lay off.” Brady releases my hand and steps closer to the table.

“It’s fine. Let’s go.” This time, I’m ready to leave, and I begin weaving through the crowd on my own.

“Rob, we’ll be talking later,” Brady threatens him before following me.

Once we’re outside, he grabs my hand and twists me around. “I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s fine. I’m used to it…well, not really, but I get that I don’t fit in with this crowd,” I say quietly, keeping my head down, as I shuffle my feet back and forth on the cracked cement sidewalk.

The truth is, I am—or I was a WASP.

Before I started at this school, I attended the finest college on the Eastern Shore. My parents are WASPs, my friends were WASPs, and their parents are WASPs.

So, Rob squarely hit that nail with his hammer when he name-called me.

“Hey, Rob’s an asshole. Don’t let him get to you.” Brady places his finger under my chin, encouraging me to meet his gaze. “You owe me a dinner, and I plan on making you pay.” He lightens the mood, and securing my hand in his, he leads me to his car.

Fifteen minutes later, we’re off-campus and at some dive diner downtown, off the highway. When we enter, there are a few older men at the counter, but every booth is empty. Brady lets me pick the table, so I choose one in the back corner.

A waitress in her fifties, wearing a pink-and-white dress with her hair pulled tight in a bun, hands us each a menu. “Hi, Brady,” she greets him before glancing to me. “Who is your friend?”

She smiles, and I immediately warm up to her.

“This is Sadie,” he answers, holding his hand out. “Sadie, this is Jacks.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sadie.”

She shoves the pen in her pocket and places out her hand for me to shake, and I oblige.

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” I reply, noticing her name tag actually reads Jackie.

Brady seems to shorten everyone’s names.

“So, you two, what will it be?” Jackie takes out her pen and paper.

“Do you mind if I order for you?” Brady questions, shy and hesitant.

I nod.

“Thanks,” he responds. “We’ll have two of my usual, Jacks.” He takes the menu from my hands and passes them to Jackie.

“Sounds good.”

I watch her walk away with finesse. On her way to the kitchen window, she picks up a pot of coffee and refills the men’s cups. She repeats the order to the cook and then leans over to chat with who I assume are the regulars around here.

I’ve never been to a diner in my life. The decorated black-and-white vinyl booths with red piping flow nicely with pictures of vintage cars and past actors and actresses from a time before I was born. The older men are engrossed in their own conversation with Jackie, regarding some sports game, leaving Brady and me to ourselves.

“So, what did you think of the show?” Brady relaxes back into the booth, stretching one arm along the top of the booth while resting his other arm on the table. His fingers drum to a beat.

His easy and loose attitude relieves the first-date tension from my body.

“It was good.” I smile over at him.

“How about awesome or incredible? How about, you couldn’t keep your eyes off the lead singer?” he jokes.

I giggle, loving his constant need for approval from me. I’m not used to this.

“You’re a really good singer,” I compliment him.

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?” He leans forward in his seat, eager to hear more. Suddenly, that casualness his body language gave off a second ago changes.

“Well…I do have one question.” I tap my finger on my bottom lip, figuring I’ll play his game.

“Yeah?”

“Is the drummer single?” As hard as I try, my lips won’t remain straight.

“Oh, man, I think you just broke my heart.” He sighs as his hand covers his chest.

Since I have the opportunity, I have to ask the one question I’ve been wondering all night. “Seriously though, how come you didn’t play any of the love songs from the album you gave me?”

“First of all, I’ve never written a love song. Second, our band has a certain reputation, and that doesn’t include the slower and more…emotional songs.”

His response confuses me. Those songs were about losing someone and being left. Did he just lie to me again? If he did, that means two times in just a few hours.

“I think your fans would like your slower songs. I fell completely in love with them,” I confess.

“Really?” He cocks his head with soft eyes. “That means a lot.” His head nods slowly. “I don’t usually share—”

Jackie interrupts with our food, and I’m certain Brady feels like he got saved by the food.

“Here you go, guys.” She sets down two chocolate milkshakes and two cheeseburgers with fries along with a plateful of nachos in the middle.

I gasp. “I’m never going to finish this,” I tell him after she walks away.

“Wait until you taste this food.” He pops a fry into his mouth and smiles from ear-to-ear.

With a snap of a finger, the easygoing Brady has returned.

Brady fills me in on how he’s been coming here since he was little. He grew up in Western and never wanted to leave. I keep him in the dark about my past, telling him I went to the University of Colorado and that my family resides there as well. I won’t fault him for lying just yet since I just joined him.

After the meal, I think the button on my pants might pop off from how bloated my stomach is.

I escape to the restroom, leaving Brady to chat with Jackie about someone they both know. Staring at myself in the mirror, I apply the lip gloss that the food and shake rubbed off.

What does this guy see in me? I question if he’s only in this for tonight or longer. Just when I’ve convinced myself he wants my body only, he changes the course, confusing me.

The problem is, I like him.

Closing my eyes for a second at the admission, I distract myself by pulling my limp hair into a low ponytail. Straightening my blouse out, I venture back to the booth. Jackie’s gone, and Brady is fiddling with his phone.

I slide in, sitting straight as a board, like The Elegant Woman class taught me.

“Did you enjoy the meal?” He shoves his phone in his pocket and gives me his full attention.

“I did. I can’t believe I ate that much,” I admit, observing my half-eaten burger with no fries left and an empty milkshake.

“I might have overdone it with the nachos.” He chuckles. “Are you ready?” He scoots out of the booth, waiting for me.

“Where’s the bill?” I open my purse, scooting out myself.

“Taken care of.” He grins at me.

“I was supposed to pay!” I exclaim, narrowing my eyes at his antics, although I’m enticed by what he’s going to ask from me now.

“Sorry, I forgot.” He shrugs his shoulders and tightens his lips together. “I guess you’ll just have to treat me another time. Actually, twice now.” He laughs.

“Brady Carsen, did you set me up?”

“Maybe.” He raises his eyebrows. “It’s not in me to let a lady pay.”

His declaration seals the deal for me. There’s no way I can keep my distance from him. I need to find out too much about him.

“Good night, you two,” Jackie says, waving from behind the counter.

“Bye, Jacks. Thanks for everything.” Brady waves back.

“Nice to meet you, Jackie.” I raise my hand to wave, too.

“You, too, sweetie,” she replies.

Brady opens the passenger door for me, and then I watch him make his way to his side of the car.

He’s so different than what I’m used to—and so are the feelings he stirs inside me. I’m at ease with him. I could walk away from the life I know and be content with spending my remaining days with him.

Holy shit. What the hell, Sadie? You’ve known him for a few days. You’ve had one full conversation with him.

He settles in the car and looks over at me, and his desire is clear. He gazes in my eyes, then at my lips, and back up to meet my eyes again. His hand moves up to my cheek, cupping it with his palm.

Oh, I want this. I want his lips on mine.

He leans across the center console, breaking the gap between us. Just as he licks his lips, I turn around to face the window. Right away, I mentally fight with myself. Closing my eyes, I continue to face the passenger window, ignoring what just happened.

Brady sighs but puts the key in the ignition and drives out of the parking lot. Chastising myself, I figure I don’t have to worry about him pursuing me further. I’m sure I just slammed that gate.

I did the right thing, right? Could I have stopped at just a kiss? I’ve never stopped there. Would he have tried to go further? I’ll never know now.

The Camaro isn’t even in park outside my dorm when I open the door and rush out. Unable to face him and feeling embarrassed about how I reacted, I walk steadily to the dorm doors without turning back.

It would have been just a kiss. I wouldn’t have had to do anything I didn’t want to if it got more heated.

“Sadie!” Brady yells.

I hear his car door slam shut. Fiddling with my keys, I work fast to get the door open to have the security of being on the other side.

When I reach the second set of doors, some guys run down the stairs and open the outside door. Brady asks them to hold the door, and they do.

Thanks a lot, guys.

“Sadie, hold up,” Brady calls out, catching up to me at the next set of doors. His hand presses on the door, stopping my retreat.

“What?” I ask with my back turned to him as I stare at the empty hallway.

All the other normal students are out, enjoying their Friday night.

“Look at me,” he requests softly.

“I can’t,” I whisper. It’s not only embarrassment; I can’t do a normal relationship.

He walks up to face me, putting his hands on my arms. “Please,” he begs.

I reluctantly look up through my eyelashes, and his eyes soften. His easy demeanor tells me that he isn’t mad that I didn’t kiss him; he’s concerned.

“Why are you running away from me? I thought we had a pretty good date.”

His hand reaches for mine, and I don’t fight it.

“I’m sorry, Brady. You shouldn’t waste your time on me.”

His grip tightens on my hand, and he moves his head so that I’m staring right into his eyes. “Tell me you feel this. Tell me it’s not just me.”

Lie. Just lie, I repeat to myself.

“Brady,” I sigh. “You don’t understand. It doesn’t matter what I feel. I can’t do normal. I’m broken.” I shake my head, pulling my hand away.

He secures my fingers in his. “Don’t walk away from this, Sadie.” His eyes bore into mine. “I know we look different from the outside, but it’s the inside that counts.”

I huff because he thinks I don’t want to be with him because of our outward differences. The truth is, he’s too good of a person for me.

“I don’t care about that, Brady. There are things about me you don’t know, and once you find out…” I continue to shake my head, putting my key in the door.

He places his hand on mine to stop me from opening the door. “I couldn’t give a shit about your past. Hell, we all have pasts, Sadie. I refuse to let you throw this away.”

I turn the key and open the door. The cold metal door rests on my back while my eyes remain fixed to the ground.

“Good-bye, Brady,” I say to him before walking through the doors.

“No, Sadie.” He grabs my arm, pulling me to him.

My hands splay on his chest, and his hands rest on my hips.

“Good night, not good-bye.” His lips brush across my cheek, and from previous experience, I know he’s about to whisper in my ear. “I won’t give up. If you’re not going to fight for this…I’ll do it for the both of us.” He releases me and lets the door shut, separating us.

Somehow, I climb the stairs and open the door to an empty room. Jessa won’t be back until morning, I’m sure. I step out of my flats as I walk over to the ladder. Crawling up to my bed, still dressed, I close my eyes, willing the escaping tears to stop.

In one night, I screwed up any chances of being with a guy as nice as Brady. He likes me, but I remind myself that he won’t when he finds out who I was. All he has to do is a Google search of my name and Drayton University. He’ll quickly figure out that I’m not the person he thinks I am.