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“The singer for that whiny band? The one who always looks like he’s headed for a boardroom meeting when he’s not being all rock and roll? Can’t blame you.”
“Yeah, he’s a lizard. Let’s talk about something nicer,” I chattered. “Like Victorian Lit. And how I might have a prayer of getting a decent grade if I write an amazing final paper. I took your advice and got a tutor. See? I know how to ask for help.”
As we passed a bench, I met a pair of icy blue eyes, and my entire body went on alert.
A group of Kappa Sig guys swarmed over the bench, laughing and chatting with some girls. Patrick stood on the edge of the crowd, his arms crossed over his chest. When he saw me, his expression shifted from bored to awake. Damn the spark between my legs and the hope on my face.
Talk to me. Spend the evening with me before we go back to your room.
Instead, his gaze flicked to Marcus and our linked elbows. Apparently Marcus didn’t pose a threat, because Patrick simply caught my eye again and tapped his bare wrist where his watch had been.11:30 tonight. Don’t be late.
Bastard. I blew him a kiss, and he raised his eyebrows. Chase, who’d left his eternal post at the back door of Kappa Sig, elbowed Patrick, pointing to me and Marcus. I caught the words “Cookie Girl.”
“Friend of yours?” Marcus murmured as we left them behind.
“Sort of.”
“Is there a good reason half a dozen frat bros are watching us?”
“They’re harmless.”
“Don’t get me mixed up in your shit, Christina.”
“Nothing is happening! Everything’s great. I want to meet your girlfriend. I’m dying of curiosity.”
Marcus craned his neck, making no secret of looking over his shoulder. “If you ever need a bodyguard, hire your sort-of friend. He looks like he eats intimidation for lunch.”
“I’ll keep it in mind. And hey.” My voice dropped to a whisper. “Thanks for not giving me a hard time about—”
“Your sugar daddy? Is that still going?”
My cheeks burned hot. I nodded.
“Christina, if you want to let some middle-aged, probably rich guy sweeten your bank account for the pleasure of your company, I’m the last person who’s going to give you grief for it.”
I choked on my mocha. “Thanks,” was all I said. Marcus gave me a funny look.
He steered me to a blanket on the edge of the lawn. A purple-haired girl lay sprawled on her stomach, flipping through a copy ofThe Lighthouse.
“Christina, meet my girlfriend, Amelia. Amelia, this is Christina. Who’s apparently my new best friend as of two minutes ago.”
We stared at each other. Since my roommate didn’t seem inclined to break the silence, I did.
“You call him ‘Marky?’” I pointed to Marcus.
“What’s wrong with that?” She sat up and crossed her arms in the defensive Amelia pose. The newspaper fluttered in the breeze.
“Nothing. Nothing at all. I just wondered if you really had a boyfriend all this time, or if it was an excuse to be out of the apartment.”
A smile twitched her lips. “Both.”
“I’ve bonded with your cat.”
“Yeah, I’m glad. Marky’s allergic.” Jesus, she really did call him that. “Oh, like a month ago, I ate the rest of the food your boyfriend left for you. Sorry.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I said automatically.
“Wait, you’re the roommate?” Marcus’s mouth hung open. He pointed at me. “You’re theroommate.The. Roommate. It’s you.” He doubled over, clutching his knees, shaking with laughter.
