“Come on, guys. It’s Saturday night. You’re acting like a couple of old men,” Finn whined.
“Don’t you have to do some organic chemistry experiment guaranteed to set up the cure for cancer or something?” I asked as I stepped over his outstretched legs on my way to the kitchen for a beer to take to my room.
“Fuck you, Bax.”
Both ’Han and I chuckled at our friend as we went our separate ways.
In the privacy of my bedroom, I pulled out my phone. All day, I’d been itching to check it, but I’d held off. No sense in coming across as too eager—or pathetic. But when I pulled up my texts, I had nothing. Nothing in my voice box either. I’d spent three fucking long days without Piper, and I didn’t have a clue why. Whatever had “come up” was messing with my head big-time. At least ’Han hadn’t mentioned that dirty word during the shoot today. Still, I couldn’t figure out any scenario where her radio silence meant anything other than she’d had her fun slumming it with a football player and wanted to move on.
Tough shit for my heart, which had gone and done something totally stupid and fallen for her. Hard. Her blindside block had laid me flat before I’d even heard the snap count.
Instead of working on the design project I needed to finish by Tuesday, I dragged out my sketch pad and lost myself in visions of the sexiest, most vibrant woman I’d ever met. I had no idea of the passing hours until Finn knocked on my door to ask if I had a plan for dinner since it was my turn to cook. My phone read seven o’clock and I groaned. Hopefully, no one had touched the five-pound package of hamburger I’d shoved to the back of the fridge when I picked it up earlier in the week.
When I dropped down the stairs to the kitchen, I found Danny and Finn arguing over who was the better Bond—Pierce Brosnan or Daniel Craig. Full beers lubricated this exceptionally important discussion, and I shook my head.
“You’re both wrong. Everyone knows the best Bond was Roger Moore. He kicked everyone’s ass and never took himself too seriously,” I interjected on my way to the fridge. Discovering the untouched package of burger, I heaved a sigh of relief.
“Daniel Craig was basically indestructible. The badass of all badasses,” Danny said in a sage tone like he was imparting some sort of ancient wisdom.
Finn choked on his beer. “Daniel Craig thought he was playing a hit man rather than the suavest British spy who ever packed a Walther PPK.”
Danny cracked up. “Suavest? You can’t make up words to win an argument.”
I pulled a pot out of the cupboard, swirled a couple of tablespoons of olive oil over the bottom, and dumped in half the hamburger to brown. While the meat cooked, I grated a couple of pounds of potatoes and carrots into a mound on the counter, thinly sliced a head of cabbage and a package of mushrooms, chopped up some onion and celery, and tossed all the veggies on top of the meat, stirring the whole works together. Then I added a few cans of cream of chicken and cream of mushroom soup to the pot, my secret mix of spices, and covered it with a tight lid.
Once I had supper underway, I snagged a beer from the fridge and joined my friends at the table. “How did this whole Bond conversation come up anyway?” I asked as I flicked the cap of my beer at the trash can beside the door.
“Danny was reading something about the debate concerning who should play Bond next since Daniel Craig returned his weapon to MI6.” Finn slid his chair over a bit to make room for me.
“For fuck’s sake. That’soldnews. Have the two of you been living under a rock or something?” I laughed.
“Are you guys discussing the next Bond?” Jamaica asked as she preceded ’Han into the kitchen. Guess the smell of cooking food had lured them from whatever fun the two of them were having behind ’Han’s locked bedroom door. “Idris Elba would be perfect. He’s sooo sexy. That little grin he has would melt the panties off any actress lucky enough to play a Bond girl opposite him.” She sighed.
“Idris Elba is your Hollywood crush, babe? How did I not know this?” Callahan asked as he stepped over to the stove, his hand hovering precariously over the pot of stew cooking there.
“Touch that and die,” I said when his fingers closed over the handle of the lid.
“A bit melodramatic, don’tcha think?” he asked with a raised brow.
“It needs to cook for at least an hour. If you pop the lid, you extend the cook time. We’re already looking at a late dinner as it is, but if you want Finn to gnaw off one of your arms while he waits, be my guest.” With a raised brow, I tipped my beer in his direction and took a swig.
“Have you heard from Piper today?” Callahan asked as he stepped from the stove to the fridge and grabbed a couple of beers for his girlfriend and himself.
“Since when is my private life any of your business?” As soon as the words left my mouth, I wanted them back—and the defensive tone with which I’d delivered them.
“I’ll take that as a no,” he said, a warning in his expression.
Jamaica’s gaze darted between us. “Piper is truly a good person. Her parents are stupid-rich and entitled, but she’s not like them.” She touched my shoulder. “She was with Charlie Chase for years, though. I don’t think you get over a long-term relationship like that so easily.”
“Unless you catch the fucker in the act when he’s cheating on you.”
Her eyes rounded, and I shut myself up with a long pull from my bottle of beer.
“I wondered about that, but Chess and Saylor haven’t said much, and I didn’t want to upset Piper more by asking.” Jamaica’s mouth turned down. “To be honest, we all had a bad feeling about Charlie from the night we met him at freshman orientation.”
Finn leaned back in his chair, eyeing me. “Isn’t he the president of the student senate?”
“Second banana,” I clarified. “And the brains behind the idea of funneling off some of our athletic fees to student government ‘in the interest of all students,’” I added with air quotes. “Because we bring money into the university, and the student senate spends it.” My roommates met my growl of disgust with their own.
