I Like You a Latte {Completed}

13 | Craving the Warmth

"Shit," the curse woke Beverly from her slumber, and she flipped over onto her side, watching through blurry eyes and the minimal daylight filtering through the window as Deb scrambled through a duffel bag, her actions frantic.

"What are you doing?" she croaked, rubbing her eyes and sitting up.

Deb cursed again, head swiveling to look at Beverly. When she saw her awaked, another stream of curses about dumb roommates and poor timing left her, and then she threw the duffel bag onto the bed, snatching up her backpack before storming out of the dorm room and letting the door slam behind her.

Beverly blew out a weary breath, flopping back onto her bed and checking the clock.

5:23 a.m.

Groaning, Beverly threw the covers off and climbed out of bed, knowing she wouldn't be able to fall asleep again. Deb's hours had been getting stranger and stranger as time went on, and the circles under Beverly's eyes had grown with each early-morning or late-night wake-up call.

She shuffled through her closet, pulling out one of her nicer pairs of jeans and a blouse and setting them on the bed. As much as she loved leggings and hoodies, she didn't want to look too much like a slob, since it was Thanksgiving Day and she'd be spending it with Cynthia and Griffin.

Of course, that wasn't for another several hours, at least, so she pulled out her textbooks and settled at her desk to get some homework done in the meantime.

***

"I don't mean this in a bad way," Griffin began when she answered the door several hours later, "but you look exhausted."

Not energetic enough for a witty reply, Beverly just yawned. "I am. Let me just grab my bag, and we can go."

He waited by the door as she snatched up her rarely used purse, his face conveying his concern. "Are you sure you're up for this today?"

"Absolutely," she bit back another yawn. "One-hundred percent."

Griffin didn't seem convinced, but he didn't protest further. When she spun around to lock the door, he took her purse from her. At her confused look, he smiled and said, "Just being a gentleman, Beverly. Cynthia will kill me if I'm not." To himself, he added, "And I want to be."

Beverly chuckled heartily, too tired to tease him for the soft words as she handed him her keys as well so he could stuff them in her bag for her. "On we go, then, gentleman. Has Cynthia started cooking?"

His large hand encased hers as they strode down the hall, and she was suddenly wide awake. He squeezed gently and responded, "Uh, yeah, she's been up since five. This is the first time we've had anyone besides the two of us for a couple of years, so she's pretty excited. She's not expecting us for another couple of hours though, so I thought we might go somewhere till then."

That was the best idea Beverly had heard in a while, and she tried to nod, only to be stopped by another yawn. Griffin smirked as he opened the car door for her and helped her inside, handing over her purse once she was situated. "Or maybe we can go back to my apartment, and you can take a nap."

Beverly's smile was sheepish. "As much as I'd like to go on another adventure with you, I think a nap is a great idea; if I don't get one, I might fall asleep in Cynthia's cooking."

"Have you not been sleeping?" The question was innocent, but Beverly hadn't forgotten about Griffin's protectiveness for the people he cared about. As worried as she was about Deb's shenanigans, she didn't have proof that the girl was actually doing anything wrong, so what could she say?