Dad left our family long ago.
“Are you sure you don’t want the grapes?” I ask. “It’s a long drive back to Springfield. You can eat it in the car.”
“No eating in the car,” she says lightly.
Gaby is health and safety conscious in every way. She has no intention of leaving me.
I say goodbye to her, then sit at my desk, waiting for my roommate to arrive.
I can’t sit still. I stand, then sit again, then check the time. He’s officially late, but maybe he has a long drive.
I hope living with him won’t be strange. I eye theLord of the Ringsposter I stuck to the wall. Maybe I should remove it. Maybe he’ll declare me a nerd or something. He does play hockey, like me. That’s why we’re rooming together. We’ll both have the same crazy schedule with early practices.
No one on my team in Springfield was intoLord of the Rings.
I open the glass container and remove the plastic top. I take a grape and pop it in my mouth.
Gaby was right. They are good. Bigger than normal and sweet and juicy.
I take another grape.
Then the door opens, and a man my age walks in.
He’s tall and lugs a red duffel bag over each broad shoulder, the width meant to terrify opposing teams. “You must be my roomie.”
Oh, God.
If I had any doubts I was attracted to men, they’re gone now. He has dark hair, and a pale freckled face. His eyes are blue-green, and his lashes are long. His lips pull up into the sort of smile that makes me understand why kissing was invented.
His duffel bags fall to the floor, and for a moment I worry the bang is the sound of my heart. His gaze drifts to theLord of the Ringsposter.
“Cool! I loveLord of the Rings.Awesome, dude.”
He reaches out and gives me a fist bump. Our fingers are touching, and I forget how fist bumps work. I put the grape into my mouth.
“I’m hot,” Axel declares, and I nod. “The elevator was busy, so I took the stairs. But three floors with two full bags is a lot.”
He whips off his shirt. Sweaty skin glistens.
My gaze bounces to the ceiling. Then the floor. Then, against my better judgment, back to him.
His six-pack flashes before me. His abs are carved deep, and my fingers twitch. His jeans are low, and the V leads somewhere definitely interesting.
And I swallow my grape.
It goes right down my throat and lodges somewhere it’s not supposed to be.
Fuck.
I’m rooming with the most handsome man I’ve ever seen, and I just swallowed a grape.
The grape is heavy in the center of my chest, and I try to cough.
I can’t.
I’m not breathing.
Shit.
