“Micah? Who are you talking to?”
My eyes snap up to him, ready to block Vince’s field of vision, but Linden’s fully dressed when he slowly descends the stairs to join us, although his cheeks are still flushed from what we did, his hair in disarray.
“Oh!” Vince’s smile grows impossibly wider as he takes him in, causing a growl to form in my chest. “So you must be the—”
“Other roommate!” I interject before I can catch myself, killing whatever word was right there on the tip of Vince’s tongue.
Micah, July 24th
“Thank you again for doing this.”
I nod, turning the hot paper cup in my hand, then lift it in a small salute toward Mike.
“Thank you for inviting me,” I say, and he laughs, warm but also a little awkward.
“Please, it’s the least I could do. I mean, since I ambushed you right after your vacation and all. But I just thought we could talk a bit and get to know each other before we…” He clears his throat, a boyish grin blooming on his lips.
“You know,” he adds with a wink.
Oh, do Iknow.
My snort sounds fake to my own ears, so I quickly take a sip of my coffee. I let my gaze wander over St. Bernard’s campus and the students lingering in the shade of the trees, to the huge buildings made of brick and sandstone towering on our sides. I can’t think of the architectural style right now—linen-pants Colin probably knows—just that the whole setting looks magical. This is how I picture England, only with worse weather.
“Sorry, what did you say?” I cringe when I realize Mike is looking at me expectantly with those dark teddy eyes. My stomach cramps when I meet his gaze, and I quickly take another sip of coffee. I already regret agreeing to this, but I needed something to distract myself.
The last days have been awkward, the Nook brimming with an odd tension as everyone returned from their respective holidays, trying to pick up old routines again while already mourning summer. Nicko’s absence left an emptiness more noticeable than I had expected. I actually miss his grumpy face as he slouched over to the coffee machine first thing in the morning, his snarky comments, and all the hockey sticks strewn across the living room.
Instead, there’s Vince now, bright and happy andloud. A presence that can’t be ignored. A shiver runs down my back every time my gaze brushes over his rainbow tattoo, and whenever our eyes meet, his words echo in my mind:So you must be theI interrupted him right in time, but I can still feel the word linger inside the Nook.
I feel sorry for his bumpy start in our house since Linden and I are doing our best to avoid him after that embarrassing first encounter.
AndLinden—I haven’t seen much of him, either, since he excused himself that night to go to bed, leaving me standing there with Vince. I hope it’s not on purpose, since he seems to be buried under extra shifts at the pound and trying to catch up on his summer classes, but it sure feels like it.
He leaves early every morning—even before I head off to the gym, then returns with a tired smile after dark. I try to save him a plate every night, our exchanges suddenly reduced to a whispered “you didn’t have to wait up” and “I wanted to”. It’s weird after spending those intense weeks together on the farm.It’s even weirder after everything that happened on the day we got back. Questions keep swirling in my head.
Is this it?
Did we already tick all the boxes?
I thought we had until September?
But it never seems to be the right time to ask about it.
“I said: Have you been with another guy before?”This might be the third time Mike has to repeat himself. I bite the inside of my cheek in an attempt to prevent my mind from drifting off again. He deserves that much at least.
“Yeah,” I hum, surprised by how easily I manage to confirm it—no hiccup, no hesitation. “But not with Seb!” I feel obligated to add that piece of information, remembering Seb’s panicked reaction a few weeks ago.
God, it feels like all of that happened in another life. I wish I could have talked to him before meeting up with Mike; maybe I could have shared a bit of what happened over the summer. But he’s not responding to any of my texts, which happens from time to time when a new TV show or art project captures all of his attention and becomes his whole personality, apart from football.
“Not? Oh. I always assumed, ’cause…” Mike trails off.
“...because of the threesomes? Yeah, we noticed that…uh…got a little out of hand.” I rub the back of my neck while letting out a soft laugh. “But no, we never…I mean, it was only ever about the girls. They’re mostly interested in Seb anyway. I’m just the”—I wave my hand in search of the right word, then decide on—“accessory.”
“A very pretty accessory,” Mike clarifies cheekily, and I snort at the compliment.
“You’re a charmer,” I point out, but my stomach is in knots. This feels so wrong, like I’m about to cheat on Linden, which isentirely stupid! Everything we did together was meant to lead to this point.
The echo in my head intensifies:So you must be the—
