Zeke went straight to his bed and curled into a ball before I waved goodbye and closed his door behind me.
After reaching my dorm, I found another note passed under my door. It read, “Breakfast in my room, knock two times –O.” A smile formed, and each time it did, it became easier and easier to smile in his name. This smile was different from others. It wasn’t the kind of smile I had to fake, which was my go-to smile. This smile wasn’t pressured like when someone told a horrible joke. This smile wasn’t forced, like the times people said, “Smile, Mia. Things could be worse.” No, this was Ollie’s smile; habitual, distinctive, and easy.
I walked the four rooms down to Ollie’s and knocked two times as instructed.
“Who’s there?”
“Mia.”
“Mia who?” Ollie asked, amused, from the other side of the door.
Shaking my head, my Ollie-smile reached my eyes. “Mia, come in already?”
The door opened and a half-asleep Ollie stood on the other side with a lazy smile. I couldn’t help but wonder if it was his “Mia-smile,” or if he had one at all. His hair was a mess, and he wore sweatpants with a loose black tee.
“We’re going to have to work on your knock-knock jokes, love.” His two emerald eyes sparkled as he reached for my good hand and pulled me in.
His room was cleaner than I’d ever seen. There were pillows—actual pillows—and blankets over his mattress. “Did you not have a party last night?”
“I did, but I kicked everyone out early. Here, I got your croissant,” Ollie said, handing me over a bag, “but I couldn’t get the coffee. That’s only on Saturdays.”
Wasting no time, I reached into the bag for the donut and sank my teeth into its glory. “Oh, you are incredible,” I hummed with a mouthful.
Ollie climbed over the mattress and melted into a heap of pillows against the wall. “What are your plans for the day?” he asked as I fell over the mattress beside him.
“We’re on lockdown, so I guess nothing. I’m supposed to be in my dorm right now.”
“No, you’re good. Stanley won’t do a security check because of a storm.”
After finishing my donut, I sucked the glaze off my fingers as impulsive moans were liberated from inside. Ollie’s eyes lit up as I savored each finger. “Do you always moan when you eat? Because you’re sort of turning me on.”
I elbowed him playfully in the shoulder, and he fell back, pretending to be wounded.
“I’m told I make more noise when I eat than during sex, so yeah … as long as the food’s good, I can’t help it.”
“I like it,” he whispered, and another clash of thunder echoed in the room as the wind whistled against the window, “but I don’t want to hear about your sex life.”
“Jealous?”
Ollie shook his head. “Crestfallen.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“Gutted”—he wrapped his arms around my waist and dragged me back against him—”discouraged”—he moved the hair from my neck—”crushed”—he grazed his nose across the skin below my ear—”Shall I keep going, Mia?”
All I could think about were his hands on me and his breath on my neck.
Yes, keep going, Ollie.
“I understand.”
Stupid, stupid mouth of mine.
Ollie released me from his hold and lay flat on his back behind me. It took all the strength I had to not climb on top of him. “So, how are we going to keep ourselves occupied?” I asked, wondering what was going through his mind, but then I remembered what Jake and Alicia had said. Their words replayed over and over.“Ollie doesn’t mess around. He’s notthe type.”
Ollie turned over onto his side and lifted his head into his hand. “Okay, before you say anything—”
I fell to my side, facing him. “Why does the beginning of that sentence scare me?”
