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But she isn’t listening to me. “Are you sure you are claiming the RA?”
“Evan? Yes. I don’t know why—I’ll probably pass out trying to talk to him.”
She stops. “Wait…is he hung and hot?”
I blink my eyelashes dramatically, realizing she never saw his face. “Cameron… Wait.” I say, pulling out my phone and Googling him. A really unfair photo of Evan and Owen holding puppies comes up. I hold it out to her. She looks at my phone and then back to me before looking back at my phone. She takes hers out and takes a photo of my phone before shaking her head. “You’re a bitch.”
“Love you too,” I tease as she starts to walk away. “Lunch?” I ask, laughing at her pouting.
“Not until you release your claim.”
“Ha, never,” I say, following her as we come to the fork where she goes toward the dentistry part of campus and I go the other way toward the ACOB. “Not my fault you didn’t call ‘Claim’ fast enough.”
She laughs as we separate to go where we need to be. When a text comes through in our team group chat, I laugh when I see it’s from Cameron and it’s the picture of Evan and Owen.
This is who Callie claimed. The RA. We hate her.
I snort as all the comments come at me.
What a bitch!
Are you kidding me? How is he hung and that hot?
Wait, is he the chunky or skinny one? And why are they both so hot?
Do they have sign-ups for threesomes?
Does anyone know the Google Doc for that? Should I make one?
When everyone agrees, I almost trip over my feet laughing. They’re all such dorks.
Hold on. I have a question. Callie claimed him, but if he denies her, can someone call next?
Within seconds, my phone is dinging with claims, and I just laugh. They are crazy and a bit rude to assume I’ll get denied. I’ve just gotta see him and make him mine. It won’t be hard. I’m an adorable chick, a real catch, and we have hockey in common. I’m not a puck bunny; I know hockey. I mean, I’m in. Easy peasy. I shut off my phone since I can’t have it on in the ACOB and tuck it into my pocket, still laughing a bit. As I reach for the door, it’s pushed open, and my face runs into a very hard chest. I bounce off him. Not far, but it makes me unsteady. I grab on to the door as he fumbles with his belongings. I look up just as the person I ran into looks down at me.
Evan Adler.
Fuckadoodle.
Green eyes. Or, no, blue. No, a breathtaking mix. Wow.
Oh. My. God.
Talk, Callie!
“Oh.”
Wow, riveting.
“Sorry, my bad. I really pushed that door,” he says, gathering his stuff. He looks down at me, expecting me to further the conversation, but instead, I just gawk at him. It’s extremely uncomfortable, and thankfully, he moves so I don’t have to. “Here,” he says, opening the door for me as he tucks his books under his arm. When he smiles and I see the dimples in his cheeks, I forget how to walk. So, of course, I trip on the threshold of the door he has open for me as I try to go in. I brace myself and glance back at him.
“You good?”
I nod. “I think so?”
“You sure?”
“No?” I answer, holding his gaze.
“No?” he asks, confused.
“I don’t know?”
“Okay?”
“Okay?”
This is fucking pathetic. He grins once more and then hooks his thumb behind him. “I gotta go.”
“Okay.”
“Okay,” he says, still grinning. “Stay weird.”
I press my lips together, but not even the force of my jaw can keep me from saying, “Stay hot.”
He looks back at me, his eyes wide, and then he chuckles. “This is by far the strangest interaction I’ve ever had.”
I give him a half smile, and when I go to lean into the door, I miss the frame and fall to my death. I let out a shriek, and I swear I can hear him laughing as the door shuts.
Between us.
I glance over to see him leaning to the side to look at me through the window. He holds up a thumb, and I hold mine up in response. He then jerks his behind him before turning to jog away.
I’m unsure if he really needed to go or if he was running from me.
Probably the latter.
I wish I could run from me.
