“Evie’s here!” Brodie yelled out into the house, his own voice bouncing back at him ominously. No one responded, though, so he shrugged and set my bags beside the staircase. “I think there’s an empty room upstairs. Come on, I’ll show you.”
If I squinted, I could imagine Bluebell House used to be a regal home. The wooden banister was finished with decorative flourishes and the well-worn steps were of solid construction. Graffiti decorated the walls as we ascended, though, and I wrinkled my nose at the musty, old cat urine sort of smell.
“Dean Attworth said he’d send the cleaning crew over this evening,” Brodie called over his shoulder, reading my mind. “It’s been empty for a while…”
“No shit,” I murmured. “What about furniture?” Becausehe’d just opened the door to a huge butentirely emptyroom. In fairness, it was more than double the size of my dorm room and had the most amazing bay window looking out into the woods behind the college but…nowhere to sleep.
“Also being delivered this evening,” Brodie assured me. “Do you like this room? Or I can show you some of the other available spaces if this?—”
“No, this is fine,” I quickly assured him. “We won’t be here for long, right? Just…until Connor and Andrew make nice?”
Brodie rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact. “Yeah. Right. Anyway, I’ll show you where the bathroom is.”
He spent some time showing me around, and by the time he was done, the furniture had started arriving. I breathed a small sigh of relief to see the truck unloading bedframes and mattresses first.
I thanked him for the tour, then grabbed an armful of cleaning supplies that I’d seen in the kitchen. The cleaning crew had a big enough job as it was, I could handle doing my own room.
An hour later my room was as clean as I could make it, and I was hard at work on the shared bathroom farther down the hall when I heard the telltale sounds of more people arriving. I considered going downstairs and making nice, but anger and resentment stopped me. It wastheirfault I had been dragged into this strange and unusual punishment.
“You know we have a whole cleaning crew here, right?” Andrew asked, startling me as I scrubbed the base of the shower on my hands and knees.
Biting back my urge to curse him out—because he was still President Kingsbridge’s son—I settled on a frosty glare over my shoulder. “I’m aware. But they’ll be here until morning if we don’t pitch in and help. Or were you unaware how disgusting this place was?”
His pursed lips and pinched brow as he looked around said he’d definitely noticed. “You’re strange, Evelyn.”
“And you’re a spineless prick, but you don’t see me pointing out facts,” I muttered under my breath, turning back to the scrubbing andhopinghe hadn’t heard me.
The shocked laugh he let out said otherwise and I winced. “Fair call, Evelyn. Do you have any allergies? I’m having my people pick up dinner for everyone in town. Maybe Thai food?”
That was…nice of him. I thought these guys all hated each other?
“I eat anything,” I replied, confused by the offer after I just insulted him. “Not fussy.”
Andrew didn’t respond immediately and I found myself glancing over my shoulder to see if he was still there. He was, and he was staring at my ass.
Wait. No, maybe he was staring at the mold on the shower curtain which was destined for the trash. That made more sense.
“Okay, I’ll order a selection to share in that case,” he finally murmured, his brow furrowing as he shifted his gaze around the bathroom. “We just can’t order anything with shellfish because Connor is allergic.”
“That’s fine, like I said…I’ll eat anything.” I meant it, too. I was yet to find a food I strongly disliked, which made it easy for me at restaurants.
Andrew nodded, then left me to my cleaning. It wasn’t until after he was gone that I paused my scrubbing and frowned. Why the fuck would Andrew know Connor’s allergies?
More to the point, why would hecare?
This day was officially weird as shit. Maybe the cleaning fumes were messing with my head or something. Yeah. That must be it.
9
EVELYN
By the time I finished cleaning, I was a sweaty mess. I ducked into my room and grabbed new underwear and shorts, deciding to change before dinner. Not like I was in any great rush to hang out with the assholes who got me sent here in the first place.
Spoiled-rotten rich boys, who were clearly used to getting whatever they wanted and gave zero fucks about the consequences for anyone else. Especially innocent bystanders.
Andrew had dropped me in the shit to save his girlfriend, and therefore he was number one in my ranking of housemates—asshole rankings as it were.
It would no doubt be a rotating list, but he could take the crown today.
