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Unfortunately, what wakes us is a knock on the door.
“Just a sec,” Landon calls, his voice rough from sleep.
“Shit,” I murmur, holding the blanket tighter against my chest.
“Is Parker in there with you?” Hayden asks through the door.
I grimace. One of the rules we all agreed on was that we would exercise discretion. This probably isn’t it.
“I’ll be out in just a second,” I say apologetically.
I hear Hayden sigh on the other side of the door, and the horror of disappointing an authority figure has me out of bed quicker than anything. “I’ll be waiting right here. Make it quick, please.”
“Go in my closet,” Landon mutters, rubbing his eyes as he reluctantly sits up. “You can grab one of my T-shirts.”
I’m flustered as I hustle over to the closet and open the door. His T-shirts are all hanging up, so it’s easy enough to grab one for me and one for him. I tug the one I picked for myself on, but my legs are still far too bare.
“Do you have sweatpants I can borrow?”
He nods. “They’re in the drawers. Pants, shorts. Take whatever,” he says, grabbing the shirt I brought out for him.
I head back to the closet, but being in here alone while he waits on the bed feels almost as invasive as it felt the night I packed his bag for Malek’s.
Suddenly remembering the time Brittany left her shirt here hoping he would find it, I call back, “I’m not going to find a treasure trove of random girl clothes in here, am I?”
He startles me, appearing in the doorway as he pulls on his shirt. “Why would I have girl clothes?”
“From all the panties that have been dropped at your feet,” I say dryly. “Ugh, I don’t have panties. God, I need to stash an emergency outfit in your room or something.”
Landon joins me in the closet, reaching into a basket overhead.
I’m horrified when he hands me a pair of panties.
“Ew, I’m not wearing some girl’s panties, Landon.”
He smirks. “They’re yours.”
“What?” I scowl at him.
He steals my panties all the time and puts them in his pocket, but I always end up getting them back. And these aren’t even panties, they’re… bikini bottoms.
Recognition hits me, and my jaw drops open when I realize why they’re familiar. “These are the bikini bottoms I was wearing at that party sophomore year.”
He nods, reaching into a drawer to get himself some pants.
“You kept them?”
“Obviously.”
“Why?”
“Why do you think?” he asks, stepping into a pair of fitted sweats.
I stare at the bikini bottoms I lost years ago. To be honest, I was in such a rush to get away from him that night, I didn’t even think about what happened to them. “It’s not exactly a great memory,” I point out, feeling a touch awkward to have to bring it up.
He shrugs. “Good memories, bad memories. They’re all memories of us, so I’ll take ’em.”
I crack a smile as I step into them. “That’s kind of sweet.”
