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“Bus.”
Nope. Never happening.
“I’ll drive you.”
“I can take the bus.”
I slid my hand from her arm to the center of her back. “You can, but you won’t, because I’ll be driving you. You can keep arguing, but it’s a waste of time. As pragmatic as you are, I don’t think you’re a girl wholikeswasting time. Agree to ride with me here and now so we don’t argue for a week just to come to a conclusion that’s already foregone. You’re coming in my car, not riding the bus.”
“You know,” her toe kicked mine, “I existed before you knew me. I have ridden the bus my whole life. It’s no big deal.”
My hand traveled under her hair to squeeze her nape. “Like you said, that was before I knew you. I’m here now. No more bus, Helen.”
Her head cocked. “Will you have the Bimmer back?”
“I should.”
Her eyes flitted over me, then she gave a sharp nod. “Fine. You’re right. I don’t want to argue. You can give me a ride.”
I huffed a short laugh. “Thanks for allowing me the privilege.”
Her mouth quirked. “Ireallylike your car.”
That laugh went on longer. “Asshole.”
Her lips curved a bit higher. “Dick.” She shoved my chest. “Go away now. I need sleep.”
“All right.” I dropped my hand. “Have a good rest of your weekend, Hells.”
She gave me a mocking salute, ducked out from under my hold on her neck, and ran up the steps to her front door. Just before she disappeared inside, she turned back, gave me a long look, then let the door close behind her.
Sweat dripped into my eyes as I climbed the steps to the frat house. A couple beer cans littered the porch, but the guys chipped in for a cleaning service on top of the one provided by the university, so the place stayed pretty clean despite the filth stirred up in these walls. That was the one thing I really liked about living here.
But then, I was a non-frat guy living in a frat house. One of these things didn’t look like the others—and that thing was me. It was out of necessity. If I’d stayed on track, I’d be in the athlete’s dorm, but since I’d quit wrestling over the summer, that was out of the question. Even if I’d been allowed to live there, most of the guys from the team were pissed at me for abandoning them without warning, so it would have been untenable. My dad, being who he was, pulled some strings and got me a single room in the frat. As much as I didn’t love it, the other option was moving back home, and that really fucking wasn’t an option.
I’d put up with this living arrangement for a year. Anything was doable for a year.
“Wait up, man.”
I paused at the front door, turning back to see Daniel jogging up the steps. He clapped my shoulder. “Hey.”
He shook his head and followed me inside. “Look at you, already up and working out. Meanwhile, some of us are just getting in from last night.”
“Oh yeah?” He stayed on my heels to the kitchen where I filled a cup of water. A few other guys were in there, scrounging for food, but Daniel had been right, it was early, so the house was still pretty quiet.
“Good night?” I wasn’t really interested, but he clearly wanted me to ask.
“Fucking fantastic.” He fished the OJ out of the fridge and poured himself a glass. “Got a new dime piece I’m tagging. Sophomore transfer, fine as hell.”
Deacon staggered in, rubbing his eyes. He jabbed a finger at me. “Fuck you. You were supposed to wake me up so I could run with you.”
“I tried. You were dead to the world.” I’d knocked on his door once. Working out was my time. Deacon sometimes horned in on it when he got his ass out of bed, but I wasn’t about to put much effort into waking him since I didn’t want him there in the first place.
“Unf.” He swung around to Daniel. “I caught the tail end of your conversation. Who’s fine as hell?”
“New girl. Elena. Blonde, mouthy, fire in bed. What was it John Mayer called Jessica Simpson? ‘Sexual napalm’? That’s my girl too.” He bit his bottom lip. “Cannot get enough.”
Deacon groaned, and my stomach churned. I could’ve gone the rest of my life without witnessing Daniel bite his lip like that. Jesus.
