Cole’s doorknob rattles, and Bryson lets go of me and takes a full step back. Cole swings his door open, good and pissed.
“Dude,” he groans into Bryson, looking equally sexually disheveled. “Baya?” His eyes bulge as he takes me in. “What the hell? Did you touch my sister?” He charges at Bryson with his chest pulled back like a gorilla.
“No!” I’m quick to step between them and avert a physical altercation. “No, he didn’t.” But all of my girl parts wish to God he did.
I place a hand on either of their chests as if to keep them apart, but really I’m taking a moment to molest the hell out of Bryson’s abs—and, just as I suspected, he’s carved from oven-heated marble. “I was just about to crash on the couch”—I hesitate for a second, dripping my fingers down Bryson’s chest—“like all weekend.” I try to bat my lashes at him in an ill attempt to flirt, but he’s got my stomach knotted up in a bundle of nerves, and I want to cry because it feels like I’m invisible to him as well. “Anyway, I sort of need to catch up on some serious beauty sleep.”
“No, no, no….” Cole groans into the idea.
“Yes, yes, yes,” I counter. “Hesaid it was okay.” I smile over at Bryson with the lie still fresh on my lips. At least I’d like to think he’d say it was okay if I had asked—offered up his bedroom maybe…hisbodyto keep me warm.
“That’s right.” Bryson gives an apprehensive nod. His glacial blue eyes pulsate over mine as if speaking in code. There’s an undeniable pull taking place. Bryson has power over me whether I like it or not. “I’m just going to jump in the shower real quick. Either of you guys want to hit breakfast in a little while?”
“Cole.” A girl’s voice emanates from deep in my brother’s bedroom. Seriously? Does anybody sleep alone around here?
“Nah, I’ve got more important things to do.” Cole glances over his shoulder.
More important things, orpeopleto do? I want to ask but don’t. Just thinking about what goes on in that love shack of his makes my stomach turn. Come to think of it, this entire place is probably heavily coated with genetic forensics I want no part of, especially the couch.
Cole socks Bryson in the arm. “Why don’t you guys go ahead.”
“Will do.” Bryson glances over at me with the ghost of a smile before disappearing down the hall.
Cole wags his finger at me to come in close.
“What?” I openly glare into the dark pit behind him. “By the way, Mom is going have an aneurism when I tell her what a testosterone-laden beast you’ve morphed into.”
“Baya.” He closes his eyes a moment. “Please don’t say a word to Mom.” He digs his fingers into his eyes in an effort to wipe away his sleep. “Anyway, I thought I heard something about rush.” Cole shakes his head without verbalizing his disapproval. “Trust me, Alpha Chi is the last place you want to be.”
“Sounds like some backward cheer.” I’m only half-teasing because I can feel my blood boiling just beneath the surface. “This isn’t going to turn into another book club lecture is it? Because in case you haven’t noticed—and you probably haven’t because you’re too busy jonesing for condoms—I’m in college now, and I plan on having a life for once.” Life is code for fun which just might be code for penis, but I’m not brave enough to admit it.
“Hey”—his eyes soften into mine, and for the first time since I’ve arrived it’s like looking in a mirror—“I want you to have a life. I really do. It’s just I don’t want you mixed up with the wrong crowd. I want you to have agoodlife.”
“Cole,” the girl’s voice hums from his bedroom.
“Sounds like you’re living the good life,” I muse. I don’t really care for the double standard he’s imposing. I’d call him out on it, but I’d rather not toss around the wordhypocritebefore seven in the morning.
“Just do us both a favor and don’t rush. Trust me, the last thing you want to be is a ‘sorority’ girl.” He sayssororitylike it’s a new strain of herpes.
“Excuseme!” The girl laughs while nailing him in the back of the head with a pillow. I smell a Greek tragedy in the making.
“I’d better let you go.” I glance into his room before looking him right in the eye. “Looks like things are about to get violent. Be careful in there.” I don’t bother wavering from my hard stare. Cole has systematically been pushing all my buttons by pulling the big brother card every time I turn around. I’d hate to break it to him, but the more he tries to push me into the arms of a fictional boyfriend, the more I’m tempted to add my name to the wall of horrors and start chalking up my own damn tally marks. And if he tries lecturing me on the benefits of being a good girl one more time, I swear I’ll put every penis on notice well before afternoon. But he doesn’t.
I head over to the couch and hear the door to his room click shut, the sound of incessant laughter on the other side, then a slam and a whack. Something tells me a little more than a pillow fight just broke out.
“Sorry.” I apologize to Bryson for the tenth time as we head outside of the building. “It’s just, my roommate is making meinsane. Honest to God, I’m looking forward to her menstrual cycle just so the both of us can finally get some rest.”
He huffs out a laugh, and I’m entranced with the way the slight impression of a comma slices up his cheek.
“Sorry—TMI, I know.” I shake my head. “But I haven’t been able to get one ounce of studying done in that room.” Mostly it’s Bryson’s fault because I can’t stop thinking about him. He’s become my singular obsession like no other boy has, and, now, I’m going to have breakfast with his mouthwatering abs.
“You don’t need to apologize—especially when you’ve done absolutely nothing wrong. Jeanie’s the one who should say she’s sorry.”
I glance down at my lavender flip-flops, my questionable level of dress, considering I’m wearing the tiny cotton shorts I slept in and a WB sweatshirt.
Maybe I shouldn’t care that Jeanie Waters is having marathon sex. Maybe I should be running from Cole’s apartment because of the very same reason. Listening to Cole satisfy his jock itch is just as bad.
“Sometimes I wonder if coming here was nothing but a big mistake.”
