LAYLA’S POV
Edward closes his fingers around mine, pulling me in and my heart. My heart has never behaved like this. Not once. I thought I’d be ready for this. I’d planned it out in my head, practiced being calm and unbothered, and imagined myself walking beside him like it was nothing.
Turns out the version of this in my head did not account for his hand. Or how warm it is. Or the goosebumps that have taken over every inch of my skin.
We hit the hallway and it’s like we’ve disturbed something. Doors open, people filter out of lecture halls, heads turn one by one and follow us down the corridor. My palm is embarrassingly damp in his hand and I’m almost certain he can feel it but he doesn’t react.
“Which hall?” He asks under his breath, not breaking stride.
“Hall 1224.” I whisper back
