by Tabatha Kiss
Um. Whoa.
“Come on,” he says, waving me out.
I force myself to step outside, willing my ankles to stop wobbling as I stand up beneath his jacket. He nudges the door closed and we rush across the grass together toward the porch. As we step up, he lowers the jacket and shakes the excess water off now that we’re safely under the roof.
I open the front pocket on my backpack in search of my keys. “Thanks,” I say, barely able to speak as a shiver travels my spine.
“Don’t mention it.”
I look up into his face again. He’s tall, nearly a whole foot taller than me. His dark hair looks even darker thanks to the rain. His face and shirt are damp, too. He didn’t even try to keep himself dry.
What would Jenna do?
“Uh…” I swallow hard. “Would you like to come in?”
He pauses. “Come in?”
“You’re soaked,” I say. “You can come in, dry off. Maybe… have some coffee? Or tea? We’ve got… both.”
The words spill out of my mouth, taking me by surprise. I guess my mother’s southern hospitality rubbed off on me after all.
His gaze wanders my face. Not for too long, though. Just long enough for me to feel it. “Sure,” he answers. “I’ve got nowhere else to be tonight.”
Well, that can’t be true. There’s no way he’d rather be here hanging out with me than be… literally anywhere else on the planet.
I unlock the door and step inside, holding it open wide for him to follow me. He walks in and scans the living room, his face as expressionless as it was in class. I can’t get a read on him at all.
Those dimples, though.
“Let me grab you a towel,” I say as I peel off my jacket and hang it on the coat rack in the living room.
“All right,” he says.
I shuffle down the hall on the left, doing my very best to walk like a normal freaking person, but I guess that’s off the menu tonight. I drop my backpack by my bedroom door and continue forward to the bathroom. With the light on, I grab a clean towel from the cabinet and pause in front of the mirror. You know, just to make sure I’m still me and did not mutate into some strange creature capable of inviting a hot stranger into her house.
I take a deep breath and exhale it slowly before reentering the hallway.
My bedroom door is open.
And the light is on.
My bedroom door is open, and the light is on!
I widen my stride to the doorway as my stomach flips upside down.
He’s in my bedroom.
He stares at the sketches hanging on my wall above my desk. “Wow,” he says, noticing me standing behind him.
“What?” I ask, tense as fuck.
“Are these yours?”
“Uh…” I step forward, quickly scanning the floor. Luckily, I did laundry yesterday. The hamper is empty. Nothing too cringe-worthy in sight. “Yeah,” I answer, glancing at the dozen drawings of faces. Some random. Some from memory. Others of family or friends or celebrities. “These are mine.”
“You’re really good.”
I blush. I hold out the towel. “Here. Nice and clean.”
He takes it with a smile. “Thanks.”
I try not to stare too hard as he pats his face and hair dry. Afterward, he tosses it over his shoulders, holding an end in each hand as he continues smiling.
“So, are you an art major?” I ask.
“Me? No.” He shakes his head. “I just do the modeling gigs for extra cash. I’m a business major.”
“Oh, cool. That’s smart. Much smarter than mine.”
He laughs. “You never know. You could make it big someday.”
I scoff. “Doubtful.”
“No, really.” He steps closer to the board. “You’re talented. They’re so lifelike.”
“I’m…” I hesitate, far too modest to agree. “I’m learning. I can’t really do anything except for faces.”
My cheeks burn brighter as he looks up again.
“What’s a vision board?” he asks.
I flinch. “Uh…”
Before I can answer, he reaches for the small letter-sized canvas balanced on the edge of my desk decorated with pictures and letters cut out of old magazines.
“Oh, that’s—” I wince. “Nothing.”
“Five Goals for a Perfect Freshman Year,” he reads aloud.
“That’s just something my roommate made me do,” I blurt. “It’s dumb, I don’t even—”
“Learn a new life skill,” he continues.
“Super dumb...”
He smirks. “Get a tattoo?”
“Another wonderful roommate suggestion. She’s been begging me to get matching tattoos since we were fourteen.”
“Pay off my car.”
“Not going to happen on my salary,” I say, cracking a joke to keep from dying.
“Enter the Art Fest. Win.”
I squeeze my clammy palms. “Again, not happening.”
He looks at me again, his lips curling into a quick smile. “Fall in love with a stranger?”
My breath hitches. “I couldn’t think of a fifth one. And I’m not even sure that qualifies as a goal. I mean, it’s not exactly measurable or at all within my control. I should just get rid of that thing. It’s dumb.”
“No, it’s cool,” he says. “It’s good that you’re so organized. If I had made goals like these my freshman year, I probably wouldn’t have had to retake Algebra.”
I chuckle. “Algebra? Really?”
“I’m not a numbers guy,” he says. “I’m more of an idea man.”
“My dad is a mathematician, so I could count to a thousand before I knew my ABCs.”
“And how does he feel about you taking art classes?”
“Denial,” I answer. He laughs. “Loads of it.”
“My parents told me to follow my dreams.” Again, he stares at the little canvas in his hands. “Never figured out exactly what that means.”
I’m not sure what to say, so I stay quiet. It’s better to do that than it is to say something stupid to the insanely cute boy hanging out in my bedroom.
Oh, good lord, there’s an insanely cute boy hanging out in my bedroom.
I should say something.
No, don’t.
Just stay quiet.
Don’t move.
It’ll all be over soon.
“You okay?” he asks, staring right at me now.
I blink. “Eh?”
“You seem pensive.”
And he uses words like pensive.
Be still, my heart.
“I’m fine,” I squeak.
He shifts slightly in my direction as he pivots to drop the canvas on my desk behind us. “So, have you made any progress on your goals?” he asks.
“Well...” I stall, ashamed. “It’s only a few weeks into the semester, so… no, I haven’t.”
His gaze drifts down my face. “Are you sure?”
“Actually, I made a car payment the other day, now that I think about it. One down, a... couple hundred to go,” I add with a laugh.
He doesn’t laugh. He stands there beside me, his lips gently curled. “No ink?” he asks.
“Oh, no.” I shake my head. “No. Pain and I don’t mesh well.”
He bites his lower lip with his eyes focused on mine. “Let me know if you change your mind,” he says. “I know a guy. He does good work.”
I nod. “Okay...”
My heart pounds in my chest, an aching reminder of how many seconds keep passing by while I stand here like an idiot. This was not what I expected to happen tonight when I sprinted across the parking lot in the pouring rain. I would get home, peel my wet clothes off, take a hot shower, wrap up in fleece with my Kindle, and get a good night’s sleep.
“Any strangers catch your eye?” he asks.
I notice that he’s looking at my lips again. “No,” I say, but my voice barely comes out. I clear my throat. “No. No time for strangers.”
H
e raises an amused brow. “Is that right?”
“I’m just busy as a bee, you know?” I hold my breath. “Buzzing and... buzzing...”
I blink, and he’s an inch closer. Another and he licks his lips, giving them the lightest sheen.
Is he going to kiss me?
Here? Now? Unsupervised?
Unsupervised?
Heidi, seriously? You’re a college girl now. You’re eighteen. You have a job. You pay rent.
Focus!
My entire body tenses. My pulse pounds and my spine erupts with chills. A wave courses through me as he drifts even closer to reach my lips. I stay still. I don’t breathe. I don’t think. I feel the wave coming up again and... Oh, no.
No.
Not now.
I can’t hold it.
I sneeze.
I sneeze right on his face.
I recoil backward and cover my nose. He shifts two steps back and turns his head, his expression blank.
Dead.
I’m dead.
“Uh...” He discreetly wipes his own nose and mouth with the towel. “Bless you.”
“I’m so sorry,” I say. “I didn’t mean to do that...”
“No, it’s okay...”
“My allergies always act up when it rains.”
He continues looking away. “Happens to the best of us.”
“I’m really sorry,” I say again.
“It’s all right.” He nods as he shifts farther away from me. “So, no new skills yet, huh?”
“Nope,” I squeak.
“It’s only been a few weeks,” he says with a positive smile. “Keep your eyes open. It’s college. You’re bound to learn something eventually.”
Oh, I’ve learned something tonight, all right.
To never, ever, do something like this ever again.
He clears his throat. “Well, I think I’m gonna take off,” he says, pointing toward the door. “I forgot that I have a… thing.”
“Me, too,” I lie, too.
He slides the towel off and hands it to me. “I’ll see you around.”
I nod, dead inside. “Yeah, I’ll see you around,” I repeat.
He walks to the door, keeping a wide birth from me as he goes. I guess I don’t blame him. I wouldn’t want to be within a foot of me right now, either...
His pace quickens as he reaches the hallway. I follow the sound of him to the front door and he walks right on through it. The door closes behind him. I walk to my window and watch as he enters his car and drives right on out of my life. Forever.
I fall onto my bed and smother myself in the pillows.
Completely dead.
Chapter 3
Drew
Well, that was embarrassing.
But I’ve been through worse.
I shake off the secondhand embarrassment as I climb the porch to the Alpha Delta Xi house. That poor girl. Long, brownish-black hair. Bright, golden eyes. Pure red cheeks from being absolutely mortified. Adorably cute, though.
I didn’t even catch her name.
I open the door and instantly cringe at the overflow of guys spilling out of the sitting room on the right.
There was a house meeting tonight.
Which means...
“Rose!” Brick’s voice carries over the gentle murmur. “Get your saggy balls in here!”
I deflate and close the door behind me. The crowd parts in the middle, providing me with a metaphorical aisle to walk down and present myself to the King.
Brick turns up his giant hands. “House meeting tonight, Rose.”
I nod, glancing around into the amused faces of my fraternity brothers. “I can see that.”
“Did you forget?” he asks.
“No.”
“Meeting started at seven.” He looks at his watch. “It’s 7:42.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Why are you forty-two minutes late?”
“Because I was with a girl.”
The room erupts with noises, some good and supportive, others rife with mischief.
Brick bobs his chin. “Okay, then. Present your case.”
I clear my throat, going along with the tradition. “I would have been here on time, but a classmate’s car wouldn’t start,” I say. “I offered to give her a ride home in the storm. She accepted. I drove her home and got stuck in traffic on my way back. That’s why I’m late.”
Brick’s face drops more and more each second. “That’s it?”
I nod, unwilling to kiss and tell. Or get sneezed on and tell, in this case. “That’s it.”
He sighs, disappointed that there wasn’t anything juicier in that story. “Okay, then. Let’s vote, boys.”
The chanting begins immediately.
“Drop! Drop! Drop!”
They shout. They grin and raise their fists, eager for me to receive the punishment I so rightfully deserve.
Brick waves his thick arms and they go quiet. “You heard them, Rose!” He laughs. “Forty-two minutes late. Forty-two push-ups. Let’s go.”
I remove my jacket before dropping into a plank on the floor. I brace myself, keeping proper form as I lower down and push up again.
One. Two. Three.
Brick continues. “Now, while Rose pays his penance, where were we?”
“Cups,” someone says.
Eleven. Twelve.
“Right.” He snaps his fingers twice. “We always need more than we think we’ll need, so let’s stock up. Hopefully, we’ll have enough to hold back for the Halloween bash next month. Anyway, who volunteers for that?”
“We’ll do it!” someone says.
Twenty-three. Twenty-four. Twenty-five.
“Outstanding.” Brick checks his clipboard. “Oh. To keep in line with new campus regulations, we have to check IDs at the door, so...” There’s a loud audible groan throughout the group. “Hey! We don’t want to get shut down, do we? Let’s follow the rules. How we doing down there, Rose?”
“Thirty-one,” I count aloud, my voice straining. “Thirty-two.”
“Good boy. We need men at the doors. Two per half-hour shift. The sign-up sheet will be posted in the kitchen tonight after the meeting. If it’s not full up by four tomorrow, I’m just going to randomly put some names, so don’t make me be the bad guy, boys. Just do it.”
Forty-one. Forty-two.
I hop back up.
Brick looks at me and bows his head. “And what did you learn?” he asks.
I take a breath. “Don’t be late to house meetings,” I answer.
“Super!” He puts his pen to his paper. “Congrats. You and Newbury get first shift tomorrow night.”
“What—!”
I turn around. My roommate glares at me from the sofa behind me, slack-jawed and annoyed.
I shrug. “Sorry, Seth.”
The guys laugh as I plop down beside him with my jacket.
“Right...” Brick checks his clipboard again. “Now, where was I? Oh. Tickets for the Greek Masquerade Ball are now available in the bursar’s office. You can bring one guest each — not one guest for each arm.” He pointedly stares at Jack across the room. “Talking to you, Mr. Vallens.”
Laughter erupts at the inside joke. Jack just shrugs, smug and proud.
Seth, however, glares at me some more. “Not cool,” he whispers beneath Brick’s booming voice.
“It’s just thirty minutes,” I say. “No big deal.”
“It’s the first thirty minutes,” he argues. “The first thirty minutes are sacred. The first thirty minutes set the tone for the entire night. The first thirty minutes determine whether you spend the night whispering sweet nothings into a lady’s earlobe or juggling your ping-pong balls alone in the bathroom.”
I chortle. “Something about that just doesn’t seem true...”
“Believe it, baby.”
“Don’t call me baby, Seth.”
“Night ruined because you had to go play good Samaritan. And you didn’t even get any. It’s just embarrassi
ng.”
Lightning brightens up the sky outside for half a second before thunder rolls over it. I watch as the unstoppable rain torrents down and my mind wanders back to those gorgeous golden eyes.
“I don’t know,” I mutter. “Could be worse.”
Chapter 4
Heidi
The rain has stopped, but clouds linger overhead as I make my way across campus toward the student parking lot where I left my car overnight. It’s early — too early — but I couldn’t get to sleep last night.
Gee, I wonder why.
It couldn’t possibly be because I spent the entire time staring at my ceiling, replaying the incident on a loop for hours on end. His handsome green eyes. His sharp cheekbones and square jawline. The way he smiled after literally everything I said and looked at me like I was the only girl in the room. I mean, I was, but also — wow — green eyes.
I don’t even know his name.
It’s for the best, I tell myself. Not knowing his name means he doesn’t know mine. All I can do is cross my fingers and hope he never models for my sketching class again. I can continue to live my life while he lives his and we never ever have to see each other again. And there he is.
I halt on the sidewalk so quickly I nearly spill my to-go coffee.
He’s in the parking lot with his phone in hand, casually leaning against the driver’s side of his car parked directly in front of mine.
He hasn’t spotted me yet.
Go.
Run.
Don’t look back.
He glances up and sees me.
Shit.
And he smiles.
My heart plunges into my gut. Can’t run away now.
I continue forward. He pushes off the door and puts his phone away, ready to give me his undivided attention. Or laugh at me. Probably laugh at me.
“Hey, there,” he says as I get close.
I pause a few feet away, still very confused. “Hey,” I say as I look at the cars.
“I saw your car parked here,” he says. “I figured I’d swing in and see if you still needed that jump.”
“Have you been waiting long?” I ask.
“Oh, no. A few minutes maybe.”