The perfect end to the perfect evening.
Fortunately, he only lives about a half a mile from campus, and even though walking alone at just after midnight on a weekend might be questionable from a safety perspective, wandering campus alone would definitely be worse. And while I could probably call my brother and have him come get me, that would give him the opportunity to argue with me about my choice of destination—namely, his house. Surprise is definitely the better tactic.
And let’s not discuss why I’ve spent most of my Friday night—the Friday of the first week of school, no less—in the library. We’ll ignore that right now. We’ll also ignore the reality of Cal’s reaction when I show up knocking on his door in the middle of the night. Not that I’m worried he’s asleep already. He won’t be. He and his roommate will probably be up playing video games. At least that’s what I assume they do on the weekends. That’s what he did in high school, anyway, and I haven’t noticed any marked changes in his interests since then.
As a distraction I start making a list of phrases that never end well.
First up is the infamous how bad can it be? Everyone knows that leads nowhere good.
Next is Hold my beer. Often uttered by drunken idiots immediately prior to undertaking something spectacularly idiotic.
And my newest entry to the list? Sure, Autumn. Anything I can do to help. No problem.
I just didn’t realize that the thing she wanted me to do was stay away from our suite all night Friday night.
Technically, it’s not all night. It’s just until she tells me it’s safe to return.
Autumn is … lovely, but a little eccentric. And tonight she tells me she’s doing some kind of ritual to manifest the right energy for the year or something like that. She mentioned it having to be tonight because of the moon phase and chakra alignment or something that I didn’t quite follow. When she gets excited about something, she starts talking fast and doesn’t quite realize that not everyone grew up meditating naked under the full moon and reading tarot cards.
I met Autumn during freshman orientation last year, and we hit it off right away. Honestly, her free spirit energy is exactly what I need a lot of the time. But being suite mates this year might prove … interesting.
Sighing with relief, I turn into my brother’s walkway, pleased that the porch light is on and there’s a light glowing through the closed curtains of the front window. It’s a cute little red brick house with a tidy front yard that Cal’s roommate Simon took care of all summer. I hope he makes Cal do the yard work for the next two months to make up for it.
Two steps up and I’m in the little sheltered alcove that houses their door. Steeling myself for Cal’s irritation, I raise my hand and knock firmly on the oak door. The sound of footsteps on creaky floorboards precedes the door opening, and I’m face to face with a chest. A solid, heavily muscled, naked chest.
Swallowing hard and licking my lips, I force myself to drag my gaze to Simon’s face. This guy. Damn. The first time I met him, I immediately developed a crush, which I know would annoy Cal to know end. And while I love nothing more than to torture my brother—and let’s face it, he started it when we were little kids by constantly bossing me around and picking on me—somehow visibly drooling over his friend seems a step too far. So I do my best to rein it in and be normal. Or at least as normal as possible. As I’m sure Cal would love to say, I’m anything but normal.
Simon crosses his gigantic arms over the chest I’m definitely not ogling—nope, because I’m looking at his face. It’s not my fault my peripheral vision is in perfect working order. His eyebrows draw together over warm brown eyes, concern filling his handsome face. “Ellie? What are you doing here? I thought Cal must’ve locked himself out.”
“Oh, uh, well,” I stammer like I’m a moron who’s never been asked a question, never seen a hot guy, and never seen a hot guy without a shirt on. For the record, I’ve seen both those things before and managed not to stammer when asked a question.
Sighing, I rub my forehead, the closest thing I can do to both slapping myself in the face and covering my face in mortification at the same time. “Sorry, Simon. I know Cal will be pissed I’m here, but my roommate’s—”
Simon steps back and gestures me in. “Say no more. Roommates hogging the room is a rite of passage of dorm life. Come on in. I’m just watching TV. How long do you need to stay?”
The door opens into a long hallway, and the living room is off to the right. I move past him into the living room and offer a shrug, surprised when I don’t find Cal on the couch. “I’m not sure,” I tell him, turning to face him and pretend I’m not distracted by his bare chest. I haven’t spent a lot of time around Simon, so I haven’t grown immune to my attraction to him at all. My brother has done his best to keep me away from all his friends since he started at Marycliff. He brought a teammate—not Simon—home with him for Thanksgiving his freshman year and according to Cal I kept checking the guy out the whole time so he never did that again. Actually, Simon is the only other teammate of his I’ve met. And the only reason that’s happened is because they’ve been housemates since last year.
“Autumn just said she’d text me when she was done. I’ve dawdled on campus for as
