Chapter 69 Waiting for You
Louis had control of the lock, and my heart raced. The car felt suffocating.
"Open the door, I want to go back." In 22 years, I'd never felt this embarrassed, not even with Daniel, who I once adored.
Louis turned and looked at me seriously, his eyes full of emotion.
I couldn't meet his gaze and kept mumbling for him to open the door.
He ruffled my hair and said hoarsely, "Jane, don't make me wait too long."
"Yeah, I need to get out." I realized I naturally kept my distance from any guy except Brad.
Louis turned off the car, got out, and opened my door, offering his hand.
I thought about it but jumped out on my own.
Louis looked a bit disappointed but still followed me.
"It's just a few steps, I can go by myself. You go ahead and get busy," I said.
During dinner, Louis's phone kept buzzing with calls and texts. He ignored them, just watching me eat.
When I opened the apartment door, my roommate, Mindy Flores, was by the window, giving me a knowing smile, which made me a bit embarrassed.
"Why are you looking at me like that? Is my makeup smudged?" I asked.
Mindy, a typical sexy beauty and a rich kid, had impeccable taste. We hadn't interacted much, so I didn't know her well.
I changed into comfy slippers, ready for a nap since I had plans later.
After washing my face, I collapsed onto the bed, pulled the sheet over me, and closed my eyes, yawning.
"Can you really get so tired from just having a meal?" Mindy asked.
I glanced at her. She stood at the foot of my bed with her arms crossed, not looking friendly.
We'd been living together for a few days but hadn't seen each other much. She was always busy with business calls.
Her clothes, jewelry, and accessories were all exquisite and expensive, showing her wealthy background. It was normal for someone like her to be a bit arrogant.
But she wasn't easy to get along with.
We had almost no overlap, so I didn't know why she was unfriendly towards me.
"Not tired, just sleepy. I got up too early. Do as you please, don't mind me," I replied.
Mindy didn't say anything else, stepped back, and sat down. Even as I fell asleep, I felt her cold eyes on me.
When I woke up, it was almost four. Louis called, saying he'd be here soon to take me out for dinner and had a surprise for me.
I didn't really want to go. I had just said I needed to think about it at lunch, and now meeting again in the evening, I was afraid he'd ask what I had decided. Mainly, I had slept all afternoon and hadn't had time to think.
Besides, school had started, and Brad had messaged me several times on Facebook to check on me. I had been too busy to respond properly. I planned to chat with Brad after dinner and update him so he wouldn't worry.
Before I could say no, Louis said, "I'm already here, waiting downstairs."
"Jane, I know you're not ready yet. I'm not asking for an answer right away, just a chance to pursue you," he added.
Louis was the first to be so upfront about his intentions, and I couldn't find a reason to refuse, so I agreed.
While washing my face, I thought about my four years at the Northern Institute of the Arts. Except for the initial period when guys would randomly send me flowers or ask for my Facebook, the rest of the years were so uneventful it felt like a purge. I often felt envious seeing guys with big bouquets confessing to some girl.
I used to think it was because I was too tall and had a bland personality, making me unlikable, or that the students at the Northern Institute of the Arts were so focused on their studies that even a beauty like me went unnoticed.
But National Capital University was different. On my second day here, a senior blocked my path to ask for my Facebook. Later, Daniel happened to pass by and said something to the guy, who then left, looking back a few times but never bothered me again.
Now there was Louis, and his pursuit was much more intense than that senior's.
I didn't know what the future held or if Louis and I would end up together.
But I was twenty-two now, and many of my college classmates had moved in with their boyfriends as early as sophomore year. I hadn't even held a guy's hand and was always seen as a weirdo. I thought it was time for me to have a boyfriend.
Louis and I grew up together, and I know him well. He had liked me for many years, so giving it a try with him wouldn't hurt.
I brushed my long hair smooth, let it fall over my shoulders, changed into a light blue dress, and grabbed a small bag before heading out.
As I closed the apartment door, I felt like two arrows of light were about to pierce my back.
Nervously stepping out of the building, I was greeted by a sea of red.
Louis had changed into a light gray suit, looking very formal, and his hair seemed specially styled, making him look even more handsome.
He stood five steps away from the door, holding a large bouquet of fiery red roses, smiling quietly at me, his eyes full of joy and passion.
"Jane, I picked these roses myself. Do you like them?" He handed the flowers to me.
Two girls walked by, saw us exchanging the roses, and ran off giggling, cheering us on.
Receiving flowers for the first time, I felt very excited, and I could feel the blood rushing to my head, my face burning as if I had a fever.
I awkwardly took the flowers, too shy to look up, and buried my face in the blooms.
Louis chuckled softly and reached out to hold my hand, but I sidestepped him.
I saw a hint of disappointment in his eyes and gave him a smile in return.
Louis quickly regained his composure. He turned to stand beside me and said, "Let's go, I'll take you to a feast."
The car's air conditioning was set just right, and the air was filled with a faint leather scent.
I sat in the passenger seat, focused on arranging the roses, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw his phone screen light up. The incoming number looked somewhat familiar, but I couldn't recall whose it was.
It was Louis's call, and it had nothing to do with me, so I didn't think much of it and turned my attention back to the scenery passing by outside.
At the intersection, we hit a red light. Louis picked up his phone and opened Facebook, replying to a brief message.
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