I raised my brows. “By everyone, do you mean Kreed?”
“Well, you are currently occupying his room,” he pointed out reasonably, stretching one arm above his head as he leaned back, thewhite T-shirt hugging his defined chest. We wore nearly identical sweatpants. I’d stolen mine from Kreed.
I tried not to think about the fact that I was in bed with Maddox. I didn’t want to make it weird. We were just hanging out. It didn’t have to mean anything. “He went for a run.”
Maddox snorted. “I don’t understand how he actually enjoys the torture. If Coach didn’t force us to run conditioning laps for football, I’d never voluntarily touch a track, let alone run for recreational fun.”
“It clears his head, I guess,” I offered with a shrug because I was with Maddox. Running sucked. Unless my life depended on it.
A mischievous grin crossed his full lips. “You know what else clears your head?”
“If you say sex, I’m kicking you off the bed.”
His lips twitched, but he tipped his chin toward the nightstand. “Gin on the rocks. Much more civilized. Less sweating involved.”
I rolled my eyes hard. “That does the exact opposite of clearing your head. It’s called avoidance through intoxication.”
His grin spread wider as he ducked his hand under the bed, fishing around blindly for a moment. When his arm emerged, he was holding a bottle, the amber glass flashing under the lamplight. He dangled it in front of my face like forbidden contraband, eyebrows waggling.
“How did you even—” I started, reaching for it automatically.
He shrugged, looking far too damn pleased with himself.
“Never mind. Just pass it over.” I held out my palm, waiting.
The glass bottle landed in my hand. The label was smudged, half of the gin already gone. I twisted the cap and took a cautious sip. The burn slid down my throat like liquid fire.
“You’re absolutely my kind of girl, menace,” Maddox said approvingly, settling back on his elbows and getting comfortable.
“You’d better hope to God Kreed doesn’t come home and find us drunk together in his bed,” I muttered, but I took another sip before passing the bottle across the space between us. “He’ll murder both of us. Me for the betrayal, you for the audacity.”
Maddox winked. “I’m actually hoping he does catch us. The look on his face would be absolutely priceless.” He tipped the bottle back and took a long pull before passing it back to me, his throat working as he swallowed.
“I really needed this.” My neck rotated from side to side a few times. “It’s been the longest week of my entire life.”
“Tell me about it.” His expression shifted, his brows drawing together thoughtfully. “I’m trying to decide if I just say ‘fuck this entire semester and fuck my summer plan,’ or if I actually put legitimate effort into salvaging my grades. It’s hard as hell to focus when Crusty Rusty is still out there plotting God knows what.”
My lips twitched upward at the ridiculous nickname. “We could study together,” I offered, thinking it would be nice to have someone hold me accountable, but I wasn’t sure Maddox was the right person for the job. “Make it less painful. With the gin as motivation, obviously.”
He tilted his head slightly, considering. “I like the way you think, menace. Let me grab my laptop from my room.”
He was gone for less than sixty seconds, his return marked by a completely ridiculous little slide across the hardwood floor, one arm spread wide for balance, the other clutching his computer, socked feet gliding as if he’d been watchingFootlooseone too many times. He flopped back down onto the bed with zero grace, springs protesting, and set his computer on his lap.
“Is Mason home?” I asked, wondering if we should get him in here too and make a night of it. We could order a pizza.
“Nope, you’re stuck with just me. Good thing because I’m not about to share my time alone with you. Or this bottle of gin.”
“You do realize I’m in love with your brother,” I threw out casually because the alcohol had made my tongue reckless and my filter nonexistent.
“Which one?”
I rolled my eyes, my finger circling the rim of the bottle. “Take a guess.”
“Does he know?” he asked.
I drew my legs up slightly on the bed so my knees were steepled. “Yes. Unfortunately, I let it slip out.”
“And?” he prompted for details, leaning forward.
