AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You were serious about the TV thing? It’s really not in my budget.” This time there’s no timid smile, just a blank expression, like he’s either ignoring or owning the fact that we clearly come from two vastly different backgrounds.
Good. I don’t want to make a big deal of that either.
“I’ve got the TV and the video game system. I got some graduation money specifically for getting my dorm room set up.” I lead us toward electronics, wondering if the blatant lie about my finances sounded plausible. Things with Cruz may be looking up after yesterday, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to tell him about my fucked-up home life, even if he did share something personal with me.
We pick a twenty-seven-inch TV, the biggest we think will fit atop one of the dressers, and an Xbox with two controllers. I thought about splurging for headsets, mainly to spend my dad’s money, but also so Cruz can play with his teammates in the other dorm. But since he doesn’t think he’ll have that much time to play, I leave them on the shelf. It’s not like I have anyone to game with.
By the time we get back to the dorm and get everything set the way we want it, the dining hall is open for dinner, so we make our way there. We’re just sitting down to eat our burgers when two other guys help themselves to seats at our table and immediately start jabbering to Cruz.
Jocks. My whole body goes tense.
At one point I was one of them. Still am in the sense that I play a sport, but that’s where the similarities end. Macho locker-room bullshit that’s supposed to pass as camaraderie holds no appeal for me.
“Killer party last night,” the striking dark-haired one says, and damn, even his voice is pretty.
“How did you feel this morning?” the attractive blond asks. “Since you’re so epically bad at beer pong, I’m gonna guess shitty.”
“Did you even make it back to your new room? Once you remembered you have it?” The dark-haired guy flashes Cruz a smile that can only be described as dazzling, despite the fact I’m pretty sure it’s meant to be mischievous. I don’t think he’s capable of looking anything other than enthralling, regardless of the expression he’s wearing.
Cruz glosses over that question by introducing me. “Guys, this is my roommate, Liam. Liam, this is Jagger.” He points to the dark-haired one. “And Cameron.” He points to the blond.
Jagger, the beautiful one closest to me, thrusts out his hand. “Sup, man? You get here this morning?”
I shake his hand before taking Cameron’s. “Last night.”
“Shit man, we must’ve just missed you. We moved this lug in and took him to a party.” Jagger grins like he’s reliving a good memory, or sharing an inside joke, and once again I’m struck by how good-looking he is.
It’s not that Cameron isn’t, he’s got a sexy surfer look about him, but Jagger is otherworldly. That almost makes me more edgy than the fact he’s a jock.
“Yeah, he knows all about that party.” Cruz ducks his head to rub the back of his neck, a move that conveniently keeps him from noticing the daggers I shoot at him.
How could he? I know I told him I’m not hiding in the closet, but to blurt out what he saw me doing last night?
My legs feel like jelly under the table. I have no desire to make a scene, but I’m determined not to sit here while he ridicules me. Before I can get up though, Cruz continues, a slight blush on his face.
“I got back to the room, buzzed as all hell–thanks to that damn game–and collapsed on the bed only to find him already in it. Scared the shit out of us both.”
The breath I didn’t know I was holding seeps out as I realize Cruz didn’t just throw me under the bus, and the other two explode into a fit of laughter.
“Fuck man, that’d be like the Hulk falling on top of you,” Jagger says.
“I’m not that big,” Cruz mumbles.
“You’re not that small either.” Cameron laughs. “He’s lucky you didn’t break his ribs. Not that you’re a small guy or anything.” Cameron tilts his head in my direction. “But not many people are as ripped as our Cruz.”
Don’t I know it.
“So, what’s your story?” I involuntarily tense at Jagger’s question, though I think that’s more due to my privacy issues than the fact he’s a jock. Or hauntingly beautiful.
“What do you mean?” I try to keep my expression blank.
“Where are you from, what’s your major, how big of a genius are you…you know. Your story.”
“Looking for tutors already, Kitcat?” Cameron taunts with an exaggerated eyebrow wag.
“I like to be prepared.” Jagger doesn’t miss a beat. “So?” He turns to me.
“Kitcat?” My brow scrunches.
