Page 44 of Under His Protection
She groans. “Food, yes. I’m hungry. But back to the dorm? I really don’t want to.” Her lush lips turn downward.
“I thought you liked school.”
“I do. I like my classes. I like the campus, in general. I love spending time with Layla and Jasmine, and Jason, too.”
“Then why the hesitation? Is there a problem? Is it your roommate?”
“Melissa? No, she’s great. We’re so alike we could be sisters.”
“Then what? If there’s a problem, you need to tell me.”
She sits up suddenly and scoots off the bed. “It’s nothing. I’ll go find my clothes.”
“They’re in the dryer. Sorry, I should have hung them up so they didn’t wrinkle, but I got sidetracked.”
Grinning, she picks up her towel and wraps it around her body before she leaves the bedroom to go find her clothes.
I get dressed, and when I walk out into the living room, I find Haley sitting on the sofa combing her hair. Or, at least trying to. “I see you found your clothes.”
She winces as she tries to work out a particularly snarly tangle in her long hair. “Ugh. This is what I get for not combing my hair right out of the shower and not using conditioner. Now it’s one giant rat’s nest. Why don’t you have conditioner?” She winces as she tugs on a particularly bad tangle.
“If you tell me what to get, I’ll buy some conditioner for you to keep here.” I hold out my hand. “Here, let me do it.”
“Really?” She looks skeptical.
“Yes, really. Hand it over.”
Haley hands me her comb, and as I sit down beside her, she turns to give me her back.
I begin systematically detangling the dark wavy strands. I take my time, being careful not to pull her hair. Soon, her posture relaxes.
“Your hair is beautiful,” I say.
“Thanks.”
“It’s one of the first things I noticed about you.”
It takes me a while, but I finally get through it all. After handing her back the comb, I gather her hair in my hands and let it fall down her back like a shiny, dark waterfall.
When she shivers, I smile. And then I move her hair off one shoulder and lean down to kiss her exposed neck. I’m tempted to leave a tiny hickey, but I don’t want to risk Mack seeing it and having to explain how it got there.
“Ready to go?” I ask.
She gathers her hair up in a quick twist and grabs a clip from her beach bag on the floor to secure it in place. “Yes, I’m ready. I’m starving.”
I stand, grab her bag, and throw it over my shoulder. “There’s a great Mexican restaurant just three blocks from here. I’ve been told their tacos are excellent. We can walk it. Are you up for that?”
She gives me a beaming smile that lights up her eyes. “You had me attacos.”
* * *
This girl is so easy to please. Give her a couple of tacos, and maybe some tortilla chips and a dish of salsa, and she’s in heaven.
The tacos are a big hit. It’s a small, family-owned restaurant, just a hole in the wall really, but the food is amazing. We’re seated in a booth, and after she slides into the seat, I slide in beside her.
Our server brings us water and asks if we’re ready to order. Haley, of course, gets tacos—no surprise there. I get beef fajitas. We both order non-alcoholic margaritas. After we finish our meals, we order dessert, and because we can’t make up our minds, we order two to share—fried ice cream and a slice oftres lechescake.
We sit and talk and laugh, and before I realize it, two hours have passed. I think neither one of us wants the day to end.
