“As you all know, the nominations for next year’s house leadership were closed before the break,” Graycen continues.
Hazen immediately sits up straight, his gaze laser-focused on Graycen, and both Connor and Rath do the same.
We’ve been wondering when they’re going to announce the results of the nominations and how they’re going to explain it to everyone. It looks like we won’t have to wait long.
“Normally we’d announce the nominees so they can get started on their campaigns,” Graycen says, sounding way more bored now that he’s talking about the elections than he did when he was going through the pros and cons list of using scented or non-scented trash bags in the common areas. “But we’re not doing that.”
Another low murmur moves through the crowd as everyone reacts to his announcement.
“This year,” he continues, raising his voice enough to quiet the whispers. “Things are going to be different.” He flicks his gaze over to where the four of us are sitting. “It seems we’ve broken a record,” he continues as he looks back out at the group. “And this is the first time in Keepers history that there have only been four nominees.”
This time the buzz of voices is loud as everyone starts talking at once, and I don’t miss how almost everyone in the room turns to stare at us, even though Declan didn’t mention any names yet.
“So in a Keepers first, we’re announcing next year’s leadership team,” Graycen says, his tone as flat as his expression. “So congrats to Anthony, Logan, Hazen, and Connor.”
A loud smattering of applause rings out, and a few people shout their congratulations, but Graycen quickly raises his hands to once again silence the room.
“And now that there’s no further business to discuss, the meeting is adjourned,” he declares, officially ending the meeting.
The four of us are quickly surrounded by a group of our frat brothers as they come to congratulate us, and we spend the next few minutes joking about prime room assignments and other house perks that can only be granted by leaders.
It doesn’t escape me that there’s one brother in particular who doesn’t come to talk to us, and he also spent the meeting looking like he was a million miles away.
Something is definitely on West’s mind. I wonder what it could be?
A smile tilts the corner of my lips as West finally gets to his feet and haphazardly pulls his hoodie on.
The muscles on his arms bunch and pull enticingly as he yanks the fabric over his head, and the tight material of his tee clings to his hard stomach as it rides up, showing off a strip of smooth skin above his low-slung jeans.
I give the guys a quick upnod to excuse myself, then casually walk toward the door, timing my exit so I reach it at the same time as West.
He’s so distracted he doesn’t seem to notice me until we’re almost at the door, and his double take, along with the little two-step move he does as he stumbles to a stop, is weirdly endearing.
“Oh. Sorry.” He lets out a breathy laugh and scrubs one hand through his fluffy blond hair. “Almost ran right into you.”
We’ve stopped, so I’m blocking just enough of the exit that he can’t slip by without either rubbing up against me or asking me to move.
“It’s all good,” I tell him and shift closer to the door. “Partner.”
“Partner?” His eyes go comically round. “Oh, right. The project.” He huffs out another laugh and shoots me a wry smile. “Can you tell I was in my own world there?”
I motion for him to go first. “Anything going on?”
“No,” he says quickly and steps through the door, his arm and shoulder brushing mine as he passes. “Just tried from traveling.”
I fall into step beside him as we walk down the hall together. “Did you have a good break?”
He offers me a weak smile. “Yeah, it was great. How was yours?”
“Pretty good.”
“That’s good.” He shoots me a quick glance. “Congratulations on the leadership thing. And for breaking a record like that.” His smile is rueful as he shakes his head and drops his gaze to the floor for a few beats. “I bet your dad will be happy you did what no one else in Keeper history has done.”
I quickly rake my gaze over his body, and how his entire demeanor changes at the mention of my father.
It’s almost like he’s folding in on himself as his broad shoulders droop and turn inward, and he even leans forward the slightest bit, like he’s trying to make himself smaller.
“He definitely will be.” I don’t bother telling him that our dads were informed about not only our wins, but our lack of competition before we were, so I already know exactly how he feels about the news. “Your dad wouldn’t be happy if it were you?”
