Luke beams and nudges Sebastian. “Axel likes your muffs.”
Sebastian swallows hard.
Sebastian is a TV presenter and he’s excellent at it. Luke forced us to see many episodes ofSeeking Mr. Right, the TV show he used to host.
“Quiet!” I mouth in my sternest expression.
Luke’s eyes round.
Finn chuckles. “Axel wants your earmuffs, Sebastian.”
Sebastian yanks them off and hands them to me, his hand trembling.
“Thank you.”
Sebastian shoots Luke a confused look.
It took Sebastian a while to get used to being with all of us jocks, and I haven’t made things better by taking his earmuffs.
I flash him a wide grin, and he draws back but gives me a nervous smile.
I turn back to Enzo. He’s still out. In fact, a small spot is forming on my sweatpants where he’s drooling on them. It should be disgusting, but I just watch the dark spot grow. I slip the earmuffs on him carefully, proud when he doesn’t stir.
Though that means he’s really exhausted.
Huh. I don’t remember Enzo having narcoleptic tendencies. He never even needed to take naps.
I study him.
Sleep is important for healthy immune systems and body functioning in general. What is going on with him?
I let him sleep, and when the bus turns onto the highway, I keep him from shifting onto the floor.
I glance down at him. His face is buried against my leg, which I guess is unusual, but that’s what happens when you’re really sleepy. Sometimes you need sleep. I mean, sometimes I’m starving, and that doesn’t change no matter who I’m sitting next to.
Enzo looks like he hasn’t gotten a haircut in a while, which is strange. He’s usually fastidious about his appearance, and though there was a time when he didn’t have any money, and we would stay in together when our dormmates ventured into Boston, that’s not the case now.
Unless… I frown. God, maybe he has gambling debts. Maybe he’s on the run from the mob.
Maybe that’s why he’s sleepy. He’s exhausted from fear. My stomach drops.
That would suck.
I never saw Enzo even use a slot machine before, but Enzo has managed to surprise me. Maybe he jumped straight to poker games or something. Maybe the Blizzards paid him an extra few percentage points more than LA, and that was worth it for him to hold off the mob.
If he’s running from the mob.
If the mob exists.
“Are you petting him?” Finn whispers to me.
I turn to him. “No.”
“Your hands are in his hair.”
I look at my hands. They are in his hair. Huh.
I lift my hands from his hair carefully. Enzo whines beneath me. I put them back quickly, and he settles at once. I slide my hands back through his silky strands, longer than normal, and he makes a small sound in his sleep and presses closer.
