I shake my head, my lips tugging into a dry smile. “Nope. Already tried and failed… twice.”
He doesn’t answer right away, just keeps his eyes on the road. Then, almost under his breath, he asks, “Is that really your type?”
I nod slowly.
“Sounds great, Peach.” His voice is lighter, but there’s something behind it I can’t name.
We pull into the parking lot of my dorm, and the glow of the streetlights filters through the windshield as he kills the engine.
“Thanks for the ride,” I murmur, reaching for the door handle. But before I can push it open, his hand covers mine, and my breath hitches as I turn to him.
He’s shifted in his seat, facing me now.
“Braydon—”
The word barely leaves my mouth before he leans in. His lips press against mine, and I go rigid, my mind scrambling to catch up
