❝Are you done acting like you care?❞
Tristan's jaw clenches so hard that for a second I'm actually afraid his teeth will disintegrate. ❝I'll ask one more time. Where. Were. You. Last. Night.❞
I lift my chin, wishing the raw command in his voice didn...
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"Hurry the fuck up!" Even through my bedroom door, his voice which was full of irritation, came loud and clear.
I groan at Tristan's impatience while tugging on a white tube top, "I said ten minutes!"
"Uh, yeah— ten minutes ago!"
"Class don't start before eleven. We have plenty of time." I wiggle into a pair of high-waisted light blue jeans that looked sprayed on from how tight they were while concurrently blow drying my damp hair.
"Juniper." I wince at his use of my full name. Yeah, he's not too pleased by my delay. "My schedule very clearly states that my first class starts at 10:45. Sharp."
I still at that and slowly turn around to face the rose gold clock hanging on the wall adjacent to my bed. Oh, no. It was already a quarter to ten, and campus was a fifteen minute Uber drive away— and that's only if you're lucky. New York City traffic jams were no joke especially in the business hours of the day. And I was only half dressed.
Shit.
"Okay, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. But, the professors are super lenient, I swear! Especially toward new students like you. All I need is another ten minutes."
I choose to ignore the muffled and ridiculously colorful string of curses Tristan growls and finish taming my hair as best as I can in such limited time. Shrugging on an oversized beige leather jacket, I step into a pair of chunky heeled ankle boots, shoulder my purse and swing my door open with a sheepish smile.
Tristan gives me a not very discreet once-over, and he looks impressed before meeting my eyes with a flat look. "I swear your time management skills will be the death of me."
I take a few seconds to appreciate his casual but sexy attire, then turn on my heel heading towards the elevator.
"If you save your comments about my time management skills— or lack, thereof, I suppose— we'll have time to stop at Starbucks."
"Why Starbucks? Aren't there any Dunkin' Donuts around here?"
I gasp so hard my lungs shudder from the effort. "Dunkin'?! Oh my God, I've agreed to let a fucking delinquent move in with me."
His face scrunches up in confusion and if I wasn't so appalled by his previous statement I might've laughed. "Delinquent? I asked a simple question."
I shake my head at his ignorance as we step into the elevator, "No, idiot, you did much worse than that. You just made me question your sanity."
Those electric blue eyes roll upwards, "I'm not sure I follow."
"Tristan. Dunkin' is shit compared to Starbucks— utter shit."
"Well that's a bit harsh—"
"No. You either join team Starbucks, or you never speak to me again."
