"I already have to deal with the sensory overload of the Omega washrooms every day. All those competing scents, all those pheromones, all that hormonal energy bouncing off the walls. I do not need it in my living space too."
Rafe, who has finally managed to stand up though he is still slightly hunched over and walking gingerly, scoffs.
"You cannot just ban sex from the dorm." His voice is incredulous, borderline offended. "What if we want to bring back a... whatever. A date. For the night."
I give him a side glare that could cut glass.
"You are rich, are you not?" I tilt my head with mock innocence. "Go to a hotel. They have plenty on campus, specifically designed for these situations. Romantic suites with soundproof walls and scent neutralizers. Very classy. Very discreet."
He opens his mouth to argue.
"Or find a closet," I continue before he can get a word in. "Or use the locker room. You are always naked there anyway. Might as well make use of it for something productive."
Cal chokes on a laugh. Etienne is smiling again, that soft, amused expression that makes him look even more attractive than he already is.
Stop noticing how attractive your roommates are. Bad brain. Bad. We discussed this.
Rafe groans, his head falling back in frustration.
"I did not choose to be naked in front of you!" he protests, his voice rising. "YOU walked in on ME. In MY locker room. I was minding my own business, taking a post-game shower, and you just barged in like you owned the place!"
I flip him off without breaking eye contact.
"So." I lower my hand. "Are we good with the rules?"
Cal shrugs, clearly deciding this fight is not worth having. "Sure. Whatever. I can work with these."
Rafe grumbles but does not actually disagree, probably too focused on protecting his injured pride and certain other injured areas.
Etienne raises his hand.
Like we are in a classroom. Like I am a teacher who has just asked if anyone has questions. It is so unexpectedly polite, so weirdly endearing, that I almost smile despite myself.
"Yes, Etienne?"
"What are you going to do when Valentine's Day comes?"
The question catches me off guard. I blink at him, temporarily thrown off my confident stride.
"What?"
"Valentine's Day," he repeats, those storm-blue eyes focused entirely on me with an intensity that makes my breath catch. "Your deadline. The day your mother expects you to be bonded. What happens when it arrives?"
Cal snickers from the couch.
"What, you gonna ask her out?" He elbows Etienne playfully. "Take her on a romantic Valentine's date? Sweep her off her feet with your mysterious French-Canadian charm and your brooding author vibes?"
Etienne does not respond to the teasing. Does not even acknowledge it. His eyes stay locked on mine, waiting for an answer like it genuinely matters to him.
He is serious. He is actually serious about this question. What do I do with that?
I smile, trying to mask the flutter of nervousness in my chest.
"Well," I say slowly, "I do not actually know. I have not thought that far ahead, honestly. I have been too focused on getting through the next six weeks to worry about what happens when they are over."
I tilt my head, feeling a spark of something reckless ignite in my chest. The same spark that made me kick Rafe in the balls. The same spark that keeps pushing me to be bolder than I feel.
"But I do not have a date for Valentine's Day. So if you want to be first on the list, Etienne..." I meet his eyes and wink. "Be my guest."
