Rush by Tori Minard Page A

how else to
interpret them. Could Max really want me?
    He wasn’t going to get me, of course. I’d
never cheat on Trent. Still, I couldn’t get the thought of Max’s hands on my
body out of my mind.
    How would he taste? How would his hair,
his bare skin feel under my hands? This room was awfully hot. I fidgeted with
the neckline of my sweater and wished I’d worn something cooler.
    “It’s hot in here,” he murmured.
    “Yeah.” I frowned at him. “I still think
you’re following me. You keep showing up, and this is a big campus. It can’t
just be coincidence.”
    “Maybe you’re following me.”
    “What? Why would I do that?”
    Another smirk. I wanted to wipe that
superior expression off his face. “Because you can’t stay away from me,
obviously.”
    “Oh, of course.” I sent him a smirk of
my own. “Thank you for clearing that up for me.”
    “You’re welcome.”
    He winked at me and I couldn’t help it.
I laughed.
    The silver pendant he always wore peeped
out of his shirt collar again. All I could see was the very edge of it, which
looked circular. I pointed to it.
    “What’s that?”
    He put his hand over it. “Just something
a friend of mine gave me.”
    “Can I see it?”
    The professor cleared his throat and Max
straightened out and faced front. I couldn’t figure him out. He seemed like a
truly nice guy, other than the outrageous flirting, and that was harmless,
really. The dangerous schemer Trent had described was someone I’d never seen.
    Maybe Trent had misjudged him. Maybe he’d
let their past—whatever it was—warp his perception of the person Max was now.
If I could just get the two of them together to talk, they might be able to
stop hating each other.
    A coffee date, just the three of us. It
would be a start, anyway.
    ***
     
    “No way in hell,” Trent said when I
suggested it to him.
    “Why not? It’s just coffee.” I sat down
on my pale aqua bedspread and crossed my arms.
    “I don’t want to see him.”
    “Trent, he’s your stepbrother.”
    He fixed me with a hard-eyed stare. “Believe
me, I wish I could forget that fact.”
    “I just don’t understand why you’re not
willing to try to work things out.”
    His hand slashed down through the air. “It’s
none of your business. Drop it, okay?”
    I made an impatient sound. “You’re
making no sense.”
    “I hate him; he hates me. End of story.”
    “But if you got together and talked
things out, maybe you could mend fences.”
    He shook his head. “Our fences are fine
the way they are.”
    “But—”
    “Trust me, Caroline, Max would tell you
the same thing. We don’t want to talk.”
    I jumped up from the bed and started to
pace my room. There wasn’t a lot of space for it, but I made do with the three
or four pace distance I had. Trent backed up a step and leaned against my door,
giving me a tiny bit more room.
    “He has no family. That isn’t right,” I
said.
    “First of all, it’s his own damn fault.
Second, why do you care? Have you been seeing him behind my back?”
    “No!” Liar. If I’d had pants, they would
have burst into flame. Luckily for me, I was wearing a skirt. “It just makes me
sad.”
    “Don’t be. There are things you don’t
know.”
    I whirled to face him. “Yeah. So
enlighten me. Tell me about it.”
    Trent leaned his head against my door
and closed his eyes. “I can’t.”
    “Sure you can.”
    “Well, then, I don’t want to.”
    “Oh, for pity’s sake, Trent. I’m your
girlfriend. I have a right to know.”
    He opened his eyes and watched me pace
for a couple of turns, his jaw working back and forth.
    “Can’t you just take my word for it that
he’s dangerous?” he said.
    “No. Why should I? You need to be a lot
more specific than that.”
    “All right.” He pushed off from the door
and stalked toward me, his square jaw tense and angry-looking. “Stop pacing.”
    I stopped. We stood at the foot of my
bed and stared at each other like opponents in a