Cameron Cole has a plan.
After yet another relationship ends because of certain shortcomings-literally-Cameron decides it's time to swear off dating and focus her energy into her junior year at the University of Charlotte. There's an internship up...
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"Wait, you've had a lecture and a discussion session and just now realized you need textbooks?" I stop mid-aisle, giving Wes a look that says everything his mama should have taught him.
He shrugs, the kind of easy, cocky shrug that only someone like Wes Reed could get away with. "Ain't everythin' online now?"
"Not everything."
The UC bookstore is pure chaos, packed with jittery first-week freshmen pretending not to be terrified and seasoned seniors hunting down used copies like their lives depend on it. Overpriced textbooks, shelves of logo-covered sweatshirts, and the faint smell of overpriced coffee fill the air.
And everyone is filling their baskets with stuff they probably won't even glance at for the entire semester.
I glance back at Wes, who's strolling along on the other side of the aisle like he's window shopping for snacks, not the academic lifeline he'll need to pass. "Please tell me I'm not walking into some kamikaze mission where you don't even pass and I go crazy?"
He snickers, flashing a grin that could sell a thousand tickets to Friday night games. "I've made it to senior year. I think I know how to pass a paper, Cameron."
"You made it to senior year because of your golden hair and perfect spiral, Wesley." I scoff as Wes catches my gaze and holds it steady with a cocky smirk. I groan. "That was not a compliment."
He puts his hands up in defense. "Sure thing."
He continues down the aisle, running a finger over the spines of some books like he's pretending to know what he's looking for.
Honestly, it's kind of cute—like watching a puppy tilt its head at something shiny.
I slow to a stop, taking a slight step back to assess the books on the bottom shelves.
Wes mirrors me, stopping on the other side, and rests his forearms atop the bookshelves. "You must've taken this course, right?"
"Yep," I mumble as my eyes skim over the titles.
"How'd you do?"
I shrug. "Alright, I guess."
"You guess?" Wes scoffs, and my gaze snaps up to him, totally calling my bluff.
"Fine, I aced it," I admit as his grin grows. "Didn't want to make you feel insecure."
"That's my girl." Wes beams at me, and the way my heart gallops should be illegal. His praise should mean nothing—it does mean nothing.
"It wasn't hard," I say, turning back to the books. "All you have to do is actually read the assigned material. Crazy concept, I know."
Art Through the Ages sits pretty, big, heavy, and guaranteed to ruin your posture. I hinge at the hip slightly and pluck the book up from the shelf before slowly continuing down the aisle.
