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“For fuck’s sake,” I mutter. “I’m impressed—except with Trey’s British accent. That was awful.”
Link laughs, the sound melting my insides like it always does, and I relax between the guys, letting them hash out which movie we should watch because I honestly don’t care as long as we're together. Sometimes, I feel like they flirt with each other as much as they do with me, and it gives me all the butterflies. And despite the fact that our relationship remains undefined,everything feels so perfect, and in the back of my head, I wonder if it’s just too good to be true.
“Areyou sure you don’t want to come home with me?” I ask Fiona again as I sit on her fluffy purple duvet, watching her pack.
Fiona’s roommate, Catherine, glances over at me from where she’s studying at her desk and rolls her eyes. “I offered the same thing, but the girl is stubborn.”
“She’s my mom,” Fi says, smiling sadly. “I’m giving her one more chance to prove she’s not a complete piece of shit. Worst case, if things go sideways, I’ll just leave and come back here.”
Fiona’s visit with her mom over Thanksgiving was a train wreck. Apparently, Fi’s mom and her new rich boyfriend went on a drinking binge, and she walked in on them fucking on the kitchen counter. Then to make matters worse, her mom was too hungover the next day to cook, so Fi had to lie to her extended family and order take out.
“Fair enough,” I say, knowing even after everything my mom did, if she were still alive, I’d probably be giving her another chance too. “But promise you’ll call me if you head back, and I’ll come back, too. I can’t stand the thought of you bumming around campus over Christmas by yourself.”
“Fine,” Fiona concedes, though I’m not sure I believe her.
“Well, I’m going head out.” I put on Link’s Whitmore U hoodie and shiver when I catch a whiff of his woodsy scent. “I want to get some writing done before Trey and Link finish their last final.”
“You know you’re done with school stuff, right? Your last final was yesterday.”
I pick up my backpack off the floor. “I don’t just write for school, you know.”
“Ugh, right, right. My bestie, the great American novelist,” she teases, tossing a scrunchie at me. Then she stops, eyeing me critically as I go to leave. “I know you insist you’re not dating Trey or Lincoln…or both of them, whatever. But you sure have been wearing a lot of their clothing lately.”
I glance at Catherine, who’s suddenly watching me very intently. I clear my throat. “I’m leaving,” I say, ignoring Fiona’s shit-eating grin.
“And don’t think I didn’t see you sniff that hoodie like a creeper when you put it on!” she calls out as I close the door.
I frown, wondering if Catherine will gossip about that little interaction later. Now that we suspect that Matt has entered full stalker mode, interactions like that make me nervous. Not that I care about my reputation that much, but I do care about the internship.
I take the elevator down and walk out into the lobby. The rain is pummeling the windows, and I sigh as I put up my hood and tuck my long hair into it.
I actually own a raincoat, I think.I suppose I should use it sometime.
I sprint across the quad, heading for the humanities building, the heavy books in my backpack making my strides clumsy and uneven. With my head down, all I see are my green rain boots as I skip over muddy patches in the grass. I accidentally step into a deep puddle and stumble forward.
I cry out as I lose my balance, but a strong hand steadies me, halting my descent. I blink up through the raindrops coating my eyelashes and see Matt’s blue eyes staring down at me. My stomach twists with dread. He’s wearing a black raincoat with the hood pulled up, and it gives me ominous vibes like I’m staring at the red-eyed Matt from my nightmares. His gaze scansmy soaking-wet body, and he frowns when he pauses on my oversized hoodie.
“Where are you going?” he asks, his voice as cold as the freezing downpour.
I yank my hand free, and I continue running toward the library, sighing with relief when I step into the warm foyer, my wet boots squeaking obnoxiously on the floor.
I hear Matt’s heavy footsteps behind me, and the thrill of fear makes me dizzy as I turn to see him entering as well, shaking water from his coat.
“Don’t you own a raincoat?” he snaps, staring disdainfully at my wet clothing. “And whose hoodie is that?” He has a sharp look in his eyes bordering on jealousy and rage.
I ignore his question, swallowing hard as I do my best to glare confidently at him, but my insides feel like mush. “I need to go study,” I say, backing up.
“Didn’t you finish your last final yesterday?”
I freeze. Foreboding prickles the back of my neck and sends a shiver through my whole body. “How did you know that?”
He smiles. “Did you like my gift? I really missed seeing your O face.”
I know I should be afraid, but his words are infuriating. “Too bad I faked it with you.”
Matt’s eyes narrow dangerously.
Suddenly, a heavy arm falls across my shoulders, the familiar mix of apples and cinnamon tickling my nose and soothing my nerves. I relax into Trey’s warm hold.
