“It will?”
“Arya in a bikini in the hot tub each night.”
“Ah. And maybe slipping into your room for a few hours?”
“Indeed.” I grab my phone from the kitchen counter. There’s a text from her reminding me of our flight’s departure time.
“Did you borrow that sweater from Declan?” Shane asks. “Or did you leave it too long in the dryer?”
I glance down at the navy knit shirt that’s tighter than it should be. My hand slides down to be sure it’s hanging over my belt at least. “Arya bought it.”
Shane laughs. “So the fact that it looks shrink-wrapped on you is intentional?”
I don’t crack a smile, but it takes work. “You’ll have to ask her.”
He laughs again. “I will. Why didn’t you?”
We step outside, and I lock the door. “The girl can put her ankles behind her head. I don’t ask her pointless questions.”
Shane’s grin widens as we jog down the steps. “Hmm. Funny how that goes. You were rolling your eyes at PDA as recently as last semester. And yet at Declan’s, anytime Arya walks near your chair, you move your arm so she can crawl into your lap.”
“Which part of she can put her ankles behind her head do you not understand?”
Shane’s grin stays plastered on his face. He enjoys that Declan and I have fallen prey to committed relationships, too.
I never say much on that score, but silently, I agree it’s worked out well. Arya likes being part of this six-member group, and right now, nothing matters more to me than her happiness.
48
ERIK
The Lady Knights lead the Jazz category and are second in the Pom category, which means it all comes down to Hip Hop.
Our Granthorpe contingent has staked out the third row above the judges, so we’ve got a great view of the floor. Tavi sits between me and Jeff Tremblay, videotaping. Reynolds sits next to me with a sparkly bronze knight painted on her right cheekbone. Beyond her are Declan, Shane, and Avery. Directly in front of me is Nanna Nixon, Arya’s grandmother.
She’s pure perfection with her silver pixie haircut, navy pantsuit, and bronze loafers. In her tote bag, Mrs. Nixon carries a bottle of champagne and a new designer handbag. Celebration gifts for Arya since her grandma has no doubt she’s going to win.
Her grandmother also had enough empathy to ask how she was doing after the horrible ordeal. Her first question after meeting me was, “Do you know if she’s sleeping?”
“She’s sleeping,” I promised. “I think stopping Casanova put her mind at rest. By the way, she calls you one of her role models. How does it feel to be the mentor of a hero?”
That earned me a smile and a wink from Nanna.
The dance routine wows us all.
It’s incredible that the women can stay in sync when their feet are moving so fast. They nail their sideways flips, too, hitting the floor exactly on beat. Afterward, when we’re standing and applauding, I can tell Arya thinks they have it.
The dancers bounce up and down and wave, and when we lock eyes, Arya blows me a kiss.
It should not twist me into knots, but it does. I slide a hand into my pocket to feel the ring. It’s too small to get over the knuckles of my pinky, but I leave it on the tip.
I would’ve waited to ask her, to avoid stealing thunder from the championship run, but Tavi says some of Arya’s frenemies doubt I’m committed. I don’t give a fuck what they think, but their skepticism bothers Arya, so the speculation will end.
The head judge announces the national champions. “Granthorpe University!”
The dancers go wild.
Next to me, Reynolds is very still. I turn my head and find her staring down at her phone. Even from a foot above, I can see the headline.Alleged Casanova Killer Dead.
