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Jiggle. Jiggle.
Beneath the covers, my body stiffened, the sound somehow catapulting me into the past, into unpleasant memories I’d gotten very good at suppressing.
Jiggle, jiggle, jiggle.The sound grew persistent, frustrated even.
Open this door!The demand echoed in my brain.There are no locked doors in this house. Your space is my space!
The door in question shuddered under a fist. A surge of alarm had me springing up into a sitting position.
“Lars!” The muffled voice called from the other side. “Open up, bro.”
Expelling the breath I’d been holding I got out of bed, fighting the covers trying to hold me hostage. Tripping a little, I stumbled the short distance to the door (seriously, American dorm rooms weresosmall) and yanked it open.
Rush stood on the other side, the neckline of his gray T-shirt darkened with sweat, his damp hair swept back away from his face. “I can’t find my damn key,” he said in lieu of thanks.
Leaving the door wide, I moved away, glancing at his bed which was empty.
“I didn’t even hear you leave,” I told him.
“I can be quiet when I want to be.”
I snorted. “Right.”
Swinging the door shut behind him, he came the rest of the way into our shared dorm room, ripping his shirt over his head to mop up his hairline. “You were out like a light. Must have been tired.”
More like mentally exhausted.“Did you go work out?” I asked. “Right before a swim meet?”
“Just a light jog. Had to get the blood pumping.”
“Better not wear yourself out. I don’t feel like having my ears ring for the entire day from Coach’s whistle.”
“That man has an unhealthy attachment to that piece of metal.”
I snickered as I slid back into bed. Rooming with Rush had been an adjustment, one of many since coming to Westbrook. This was one of the biggest, though. I valued having my own space, a place where I could be totally alone with myself. I felt safe like that, liked knowing I could be all that I was without worrying about what anyone else was thinking.
This dorm didn’t allow for that. It was literally one room with two beds and space for a desk and dressers. We did have our own bathroom, something I guess was an Elite privilege because, in most dorms here, the entire floor had to share.
I shuddered at that thought. At least I could shut myself in the bathroom when I was really overwhelmed.
It was hard to sleep too, having someone so close, lying vulnerable in a bed with someone I didn’t know well just feet away. I never really relaxed. I guess it wasn’t surprising I’d fallen into an exhausted sleep last night and didn’t hear him moving around this morning.
There was only so long a person could go on light sleep and anxiety.
Keeping my word to stay away from Win tipped me over the edge. I’d forgotten how utterly exhausting it was to actively try and avoid someone.
He made it harder.
Coming to the pool with those mirrored aviators he loved so much shielding his sleepy eyes. It was stupid and ridiculous he wore them because the sun wasn’t even fully up. His hair was rumpled and wild. He yawned so wide I could see all of his teeth. His big hand was always wrapped around a coffee like my favorite drink was recommending a person. He just looked so goddamn comforting and so much the way he did when he crawled out of my bed in the mornings before class and kissed me.
I missed that.
I missed him.
It also didn’t help that he was forever touching the guys at the pool, laughing as he did it or leaning in to speak to them. I knew it was his job. Hell, I even knew the touch was clinical. It didn’t matter. I seethed with hurt, with wanting his hands on only me.
And as sucky as I was at self-preservation I seemed to be excelling at staying away. It wasn’t for my sake though, it was for his.
The broken, hollow look I saw in his eyes over a week ago when he basically pleaded with me to stay away haunted me. His ghosts joined mine, making me feel like a walking haunted house.
