“I’m good,” I assure them. “But I enjoy cooking and baking, so…”
“Lots of sleepovers?” Colt suggests, still in his boxers, but I think he added a t-shirt for me, because it’s inside out. “With Noah,” he adds quickly when his roommate growls.
“I really appreciate you letting me stay here last night, but I have to get to a study group, so I’ll see you boys around?”
“You’re not eating?” Noah asks me.
“I ate some rejects,” I assure him, then turn to the door.
“Wait, I’ll drive you. Just give me five minutes to have another one.”
“It’s light out—” I start, but he gives me a pointed look, so I stop.
The guys demolish the pancakes and ask me for the recipe, licking their plates clean before Noah walks me out to his truck.
“You know you didn’t have to do that, right?” he says once we’re inside.
“You didn’t like the pancakes?”
“They were the bomb, but I meant it when I said all you have to bring is you. No pastries or pancakes necessary.”
“I know,” I assure him, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to encroach on someone without feeling like I need to earn my welcome.
Noah looks like he doesn’t believe me either, then asks, “What are you doing on Friday?” His hands are tapping on the wheel, almost like he’s nervous.
“Do you have a game? Is Izzie?—”
“We’re throwing a party,” he stops me. “Not too big, mostly the hockey team, to celebrate the end of classes.”
“That’s fun,” I say, still wondering why he needs me to watch his sister.
“Wanna come?” Noah asks. “I know parties aren’t your thing, but your book will need some, and it could help to watch us in our natural habitat,” he teases. “I promise, if it sucks, I’ll walk you home. Or we can play scrabble in my bedroom.”
“Scrabble?”
“Figure a writer would like a game about words.”
“I have exams until next Wednesday.”
“My last one is on the Monday,” he agrees. “But Owen and Michael are flying out Saturday morning, so my need to study was overruled.”
As the captain, I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t overrule him, but he does bend over backwards to make life easier for everyone else, so it makes sense that he’d sacrifice himself in this case.
“Is this a ploy for me to cook?” I ask, and his laugh is boyish and beautiful.
“Pretty sure my roommates are in love with you, so cooking for them again might be a bad idea, unless you want David to convert the basement for you.”
“I like them,” I assure him.
“Me too, but I’m serious. If you show up with anything other than yourself, or even glance at our pantry…”
“You’ll what?”
He looks to me, eyes filled with lust, before turning back to the road.
“I was going to say you won’t be allowed in, but it felt like an empty threat.”
“I’ll see how my studying goes.”
