“Cali said you’d want to see him. I just—”
“Seth, go right in.” The smooth, plotting tone of Cali Grant grates harder against my eardrums than Mariah’s wails. Cali has been after my spot atop the PSL Chi house for so long that I’m not surprised she’s trying this right now. “Let him in, Haley.”
“No, Haley—” I panic.
“I’m so sorry, but she scares me,” Haley whispers.
“I should scare you,” I say through gritted teeth. But it’s too late. I’ve been so in my head the past few days about my weird interaction at the bookstore with that store clerk and calling Jenny “Pixie” that I haven’t put enough energy into keeping my edges sharp, and now Seth Aarons is about to enter my bedroom,
Are you happy neurotic Maddie?
Madeline.
Fuck. Focus.
My face is green. My hair is gross. I’m wearing a punny, nerd shirt, and it’s too late to correct any of this.
New strategy. Pretend like none of this is a big deal. If I don’t act like I’m embarrassed, maybe Seth won’t pick up on how humiliating this is.
I return my gaze to my computer, lying on my stomach to conceal my heating pad and narwhals, and cross my legs, letting them flick high in the air. My insides come alive, like a grand opening of an amusement park with its flips, churns, and sugary sweet anticipation.
Again, a peculiar, nostalgic sensation fights for real estate of my mind and body, like all the control I’ve mastered over the years to keep the dorky First-Year repressed is unraveling.
“Hey.” I nod as he bows under the door frame. “What’s up?”
Seth shuts the door and freezes when his eyes fall on me. His lips pull into a slow, devastating smile as his eyebrows creep upward. Whether in confusion or surprise, I can’t tell.
Without a word of acknowledgment, his hand slides into his pocket and retrieves his phone.
Shit, does he seriously think he’s going to take a picture? Oh, hell no.
But he’s a fast draw, and before I know it, a white flash assaults my eyes while I’m lunging toward his phone. An internal pain screeches with the sudden motion, but I do my best to ignore it.
Seth raises his phone above his head, and while I’m not small at five-eleven, I forgot how much taller he is than me. He must be at least six-four. Maybe even six-five, the way he loomed over Connor’s six-two frame.
“Come on, Peter Stalker. No loser paparazzi in the bedroom.” I jump up, trying to reach for it. Seth angles the phone down, and it flashes again. “Do you have a death wish, Aarons? If you don’t quit it and delete those right now, I swear, I’ll kick you so hard, it’ll make your ancestors’ balls recede too.”
Seth chuckles, scrolling through his photos above my head, his other hand placed over his sensitive area. “Come on. You look cute.” He continues scrolling. Maybe I could bite him. I doubt my teeth would penetrate his flannel barrier enough to cause significant damage, but it’s worth trying.
“Cute is what—” I lunge and miss. “Guys call girls when they have nothing nice to say but don’t want to come off like an ass.” I reach my grabby hands, brushing the bottom of his phone with my fingertips. Damn.
“Really? Because cute is what I say when something is cute, and I want to call it cute.”
“Cute is for the average, Aarons,” I huff. “And I’m not average.”
“Well, obviously.” He rolls his eyes. “Oh. This is definitely the one.” He angles the photo at me and smiles. “Madeline Grinch.”
“Har. Har.” With a bounce on my toes, I swipe for the phone again but land awkwardly on Seth’s aggravating feet instead. His free arm wraps around my back to stabilize me, and those damn electric shocks I felt at the bookstore follow. My breath hitches at the sparking sensation that terrorizes my nervous system. Seth’s stare dances over my lips, and the evergreen wildwood held within gives way to a mischievous glint.
The pull to rise on my toes for a far more disconcerting reason heightens, and I swallow it back down. “Seth. Come on. You came into my safe space. That’s not fair,” I pout. I hate the damsel in distress card, but with Seth’s savior complex, it’s a strategy I’m willing to employ.
Desperate measures and all that.
“This wouldn’t have been an issue if you had responded to my calls or texts over the past five days.”
Or maybe Seth is that big of an asshat. Back to attack mode, then.
Seth lets his guard down, and I dive forward in a last-ditch effort. He shifts out of the way, and I come close to crashing into the wall.
