“You can keep your delusions, but no offense.” I lift my chin and try my best to channel a sharp, sarcastic response when the warmth between us invites me to melt and soften. “I don’t want to put something on my skin that’s been on the floor for god knows how long and probably hasn’t been washed in years.”
A slow dangerous smile rakes across Cole’s face. “Fair enough,” he says, waving a dismissive hand on me. “You can go.”
I arch a brow. “That’s it?”
“You made a valid point. Go get your clothes. I’m hungry and tired.”
“Okay?” I eye him, still skeptical. Cole has never surrendered that easily.
But I’m hungry and tired too, and I need to shower off the ice rink. I took an antihistamine not too long ago, but I’m still itchy.
I walk down the hallway that I’ve never been down, even though I’ve been in this apartment a million times. In the morning, the women leave the first door, the pad of their steps too quick to be coming from the second. This should be Cole’s then. It’s slightly ajar, and I know he loves his privacy, but I can’t help but peek. Clothes are strewn all over the floor along with various old food wrappers and a box of condoms. Gross. Thank god I didn’t accept clothes from him, and I definitely won’t be sleeping in here tonight.
Caden’s room is at the end of the hallway. I push the door open. I don’t want to snoop, but also, I haven’t seen his room and I’m curious. The naïve part of me is hoping there’s a picture of us on his nightstand, maybe a journal with doodled hearts and Caden and Natalie forever scribbled all over it. I don’t know, something that tells me I have a chance.
My fingers drag over the oak grain of his desk. Everything in this room is immaculate. Tidy. The bed is made with a plaid comforter smoothly pressed across it. There isn’t a piece of clothing on the floor or a speck of dust to clog my lungs. Cedar and lemon fill my nostrils as I slowly step through the room. My fingers freeze over an Organic Chemistry textbook. What the—? Caden is a psychology major, he wouldn’t need to take this class. Why does he have it?
I’ll have to text him. Ask him if he’s considering switching majors. He has the perfect disposition to be a doctor with an excellent bedside manner.
He’d also be stupidly attractive in scrubs.
Caden’s bureau is next to his desk. It’s sparse on top. I slide open the first drawer, quick to close it because—boxer briefs. I’m not that nosy. Okay, second drawer. Long-sleeve shirts and flannel pants. Perfect.
I pull out the top shirt and grab a pair of pajama pants.
On a corner of the shirt, the words “Pine Valley University Hockey” encircle a pair of hockey sticks. The number “25” and “Sinclair” are printed down the sleeve.
That’s weird. Why would Caden have Cole’s shirt?
I shrug and put it back, but the next shirt in the drawer is another Pine Valley University hockey shirt.
What the hell is going on?
Suddenly, Cole is leaning against the doorframe with a smug ass grin on his face. “So, how’s it going?” he asks.
“Is this some kind of prank?” I panic, picking up the second shirt and again, finding a very Cole-coded, decidedly not Caden’s, shirt underneath it.
“No, believe it or not, Natalie, I don’t spend my days wondering how I can mess with you.”
“But this is Caden’s room. Why does he have your shirts?”
“You sure it’s Caden’s room? It’d be odd for me to store my extra hockey stuff in here if it was.” He nods to a corner of the room where a couple of hockey sticks are leaning. I take a look around, catching the details I didn’t see before. A hockey trophy, more pre-med books, and perhaps most damning of all, the business textbook from our shared class this semester.
“This—” My voice wobbles. “This is your room?”
“Glad you finally got there,” he says. With a wide grin, he walks over, snatches the pants from me, and turns back towards his drawer. “These are scratchy. Here.” He gives me a pair of worn black and green plaid pants. “And this is my favorite pajama shirt.”
“Oh, well, I don’t want to take your favorite shirt.” I chew my lip. My brain is trying to process a thousand things all at once and damn near about to go up in flames. I can feel smoke coming out of my ears.
“I want you to. You’ll be comfy in this.” He smiles softly at me and eagerly shoves the clothes in my hands, but I don’t take them. “Hey? You okay?”
“This is yourroom,” I say again. “Yourroom.”
“Ah, you’re still spiraling over that. Yeah. I don’t know what he told you, Natalie, but Caden’s the slob, not me. Here.” This time he opens my hands and puts the clothes in them. “Sorry, I ugh—I didn’t think it’d hit you quite like this.”
“So, does that mean Caden’s the one who has houseguests regularly?” I squeak.
Cole’s eyebrows pinch together. “Uhm. Yeah. Natalie, I don’t even acknowledge his guests in the morning, because I don’t know if I’m supposed to or not. How much of an ass do you think I am?”
