Billionaires Don’t Fall For Awkward Girls by Emma Dalton

Chapter Ten

The second I enter the public library near school, my head whips around for a guy with fancy clothes and hair so neat it doesn’t look natural.

Easton is slumped on a chair at the corner of the library, nose buried in a history book. He lowers it as I drop down across from him. He grins in a sexy way that would make any girl melt at his feet, and raises a brow. “Looks like I’m not the one who’s late.”

I mumble under my breath as I take out my notebook and pens. “Some of us have things to take care of. Responsibilities.” Like calling Jasmine and telling her I’ll be late for my dance lesson.

His mouth closes and he averts his gaze. He clears his throat. “Was reading this book. Kind of interesting.” He points out different options for our assignment, and I hate to admit that I’m impressed. He’s not dumping all the work on me. He’s serious about this.

“What?” he asks. “You’re looking at me funny.”

My mouth opens and closes and I look away. “No I’m not!”

“Mhm,” he says as he flips to another page.

I give him a look. “Let’s focus on the project and get this over with, okay? The sooner I’m out of here, the better.”

He looks at me, then back at the book. “Whatever you say, Wood.”

I spend a few minutes grabbing some books off the shelves and digging through my history textbook. The library is completely silent, except for a few kids whispering at a table on our right.

Easton breaks the silence when he comes up with a few topics in history we can use. “Okay,” I say. “The hard part is making it relatable to us.”

“That’s not hard.”

I lift a brow. “We’re so different, so whatever is relevant to me isn’t relevant to you.”

His mouth shuts as he tilts his head from right to left, considering my words. “Well, not really. We both go to school, we have parents who nag us and annoy us—”

“My parents don’t nag me. And they don’t annoy me at all. They’re hard-working people who deserve only the good things in life. They’ve sacrificed so much for me.” My eyes widen when I realize what just tumbled out of my mouth.

He watches me with an unreadable expression.

“What?” I ask.

He shakes his head, glancing away. “Nothing.”

We’re quiet.

I bend forward. “Right, so because we’re so different, we can talk about how the topic affects us differently. You’re a guy, I’m a girl, so we can discuss how things have changed over the years for both our genders.” I frown. “But we’re not getting political. And because you’re so rich, we can have both our points of view on different topics and compare it to history. Am I making sense?”

“Sort of. Basically you relate it to your life and I relate it to mine.”

I nod. “You can write your part of the report and I’ll write mine. Then we’ll present it to the class.”

“Hmm. That’s not going to work for me. Ms. Young said we need to do everything together. Besides, we can’t present two halves of one report, can we? We need to blend them together.”

I throw my hands up in frustration. “You’re making this more complicated than it needs to be.”

“I don’t think I am. We work on both parts together and we present both parts together.”

“Or I present my part and you present yours. I’m not budging.”

He sighs, leaning back. “Fine. I just want an A.”

“Me too.”

He lifts a brow. “I thought kids like you like doing the work.”

“Kids like me? You mean loser nobodies who are so pathetic their only joy in life is homework?”

He holds my gaze. “No, I just meant studious kids. The ones who’ll be successful one day.”

“You’ll be successful and you’re not studious,” I point out.

He focuses on the history book and starts talking about the assignment. I push whatever that was out of my head. My biggest enemy and I had a conversation? What?

We remain at the library for a few hours until we finish the assignment. And we practice reading it out loud a few times. He’ll concentrate on his parts and I’ll concentrate on mine, then we’ll conclude the report together. It should be a solid A.

Easton stands and returns the books to their correct places as I gather my notebook and pens. He gives me a puzzled look when he returns, and that’s when I realize I’ve been staring at him again.

“What now?” he asks.

I turn away, carefully placing my things in my bag so it won’t tear again. “Nothing. Was just shocked that a person like you actually bothered to return the books.” I get to my feet. “Make sure you’re on time tomorrow morning for class, okay? You’d better not ditch and force me to do the presentation alone.”

He dips his head, keeping those beautiful brown eyes on me. “I’ll be there, no worries.”

I can still feel him watching me as I heave my backpack over my shoulders and make my way to the door.

As I walk through the library exit, I pull out my phone to call Jasmine. I told her I’d be a little late, but I didn’t expect to go overtime. That project was insane. And Ms. Young only gave us one day to work on it. So not fair.

“Hey, just finished with my project,” I tell her. “I’ll be at the studio in twenty minutes.”

“Sorry, Dani. I already left. Andrea asked me to close the studio early because her kid has a birthday party and there’s no one there to lock up.”

My heart sinks. I was really looking forward to that dance class. “Oh. Okay.”

“But I’ll see you next time,” she promises.

“Yeah. Okay. See you.”

“Keep practicing.” She hangs up.

I stuff my phone in my pocket and lean my head on the wall. It’s not a big deal, so why am I so disappointed? Jasmine will work with me next time.

A black fancy car pulls up before the library and I straighten up against the wall. Man, that thing looks like it cost a billion bucks. It’s new and shiny and I expect the Queen of England to step out of it.

The library door opens and Easton walks out, headed straight to the car. “Hey, Joe,” he says to the driver before settling down inside. Of course. How did I not guess that this is Easton’s car?

“Wood?”

I glance up and find Easton sticking his head out the back window.

“Need a lift?” he asks.

Tempting. So, so very tempting. But one, I don’t want to be alone in a car with the guy who so rudely told me to shut my mouth that first day of school. And two, I don’t want him coming anywhere near my house.

“No.”

He squints his eyes. “You sure? Got lots of room.”

I glance around for cameras or reporters. Because there’s no way Easton Knight is being nice to me. It has to be for his image. But there’s no one around except for some kids feeding the birds across the street.

“I’m sure.” I turn away from him and make my way to the city bus stop.

My house is quiet like nearly every night. Mom’s cleaning at the Reyes’s, Dad will be home much later. So it’s just me and this lonely house.

I pull the food Mom prepared from the oven and place some on a plate, then drop down before the TV to watch Netflix.

“What’s his deal?” I mutter to myself as I play around with the lima beans on my plate. “First he treated me like garbage, then he helped with the assignment, and now he offered to take me home?”

But I won’t think about it anymore because I’m being pathetic. Charlie’s right—Easton doesn’t think about me at all. I’m just the girl who talks too much, who’s always banging into him and tripping over her feet, and his partner for this project. He never even apologized for what he said to me on the first day.

My phone rings with a call from Ally.

“Hey, how did it go at the library?” she asks. “Did you kill each other?” She chuckles.

“No. It oddly went okay.” I tell her the details of how we kind of worked well together.

“Are you softening up to him, Dani Wood?” she teases.

I nearly choke on my food. “What the heck?!!!! Nooooo! How can you even think that? The guy’s still a jerk.”

“Whatever you say,” she says in a sing-song tone.

“Ally, I still hate him!”

“Okay.”

“Just because we spent some time together and will present a project to the class tomorrow, it doesn’t mean we’re suddenly friends. After this is done, I’ll go back to ignoring him like I’ve been doing since the first day.”

She clicks her tongue, then drops the subject, talking about something that happened during choir practice. Then we hang up and my other friends call me, wanting to know how it went with Easton today. Unlike Ally, none of them tease me about softening up to him. Not that I did.

When I hang up, I toss my phone on the couch and resume watching TV. Ally’s words ring in my ears, but I shove them away. As if!