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Prescott is standing just underneath my window, a duffle bag over his shoulder as he lazily throws a pebble in the air before catching it.
“What does it look like I’m doing?”
“That’s what I want to know.” I look down at my watch.Almost midnight? Where did the time go?“Trying to wake up half the building?”
I tilt my head back, praying to all the gods that Grace and Rei didn’t hear anything because I’m in no mood to explain what Prescott Wentworth, of all people, is doing standing outside of my bedroom in the middle of the night.
“More like trying to get your attention. Took you long enough, by the way.”
“I was working. Hell, for all you know, I could have earbuds in.”
He quirks his brow in that I-know-it-all manner I hate. “Did you?”
“No, but that’s beside the point. Don’t you know about that thing called a phone?”
Prescott pretends to think about it. “Haven’t heard of it.”
“A magical thing, really.” I lean my elbow against the windowsill, propping my chin on my palm. “You type in a number and press call, and it’ll connect you directly to the person you want to talk to.”
“Smartass.”
“I have my moments.” I tilt my chin at him. “So whatareyou doing here? Weren’t you out of town?”
Shit.
The words slip out of my mouth before I can think them through.
Prescott knows it too. A smug smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he lifts his brow at me. “Following my schedule, doll?”
“As if,” I scoff. “My brother’s on your team, in case you forgot.”
A shadow falls over his face at the mention of Nixon. “No, I didn’t forget.”
Then again, if I were screwing my best friend’s little sister behind said best friend’s back, I’d feel like shit too. Not that Nixon has anything to do with whatever’s going on between us.
Fucking. Screwing. Or any other verb you want to use.
Nothing more or nothing less.
Deciding a change of subject is in order, I lift my brow at him. “So, are you planning to give me an answer or what?”
From the looks of it, he probably just came back to campus not that long ago.
“I was walking home when I saw your light was still on.” My stomach does a little flip. It’s stupid and completely unreasonable, but it’s there. “Want company?”
I graze my teeth over my lower lip, letting it pop out. “I guess so,” I shrug, trying not to seem too eager.
Because I’m not.
Eager.
Not at all.
“Catch.”
“Wha—”
Before I can blink, he tosses his duffle in the air. I’m so surprised it almost slips my fingers, but I manage to catch the strap at the very last second. The damn thing is heavy as hell too. Tugging it inside, I let it drop on the floor before shoving my head out of the window again, but Prescott isn’t down there. Nope, he’s holding onto the ladder that’s not that far from my window and climbing up.
