Eden takes it from me and holds it against her chest, and I pull off my black turtleneck in one swift move. She takes it from me as well, but her eyes are locked on my chest and torso as she not so subtly checks me out for a few beats.
I know I look good, and I’ve worked hard for my body. My natural state is slender and lean, but the many hours I put in the gym and all the lifting I do have given me a broader, more sculpted physique that’s a bitch to maintain, but is more in line with what people consider the ideal male body type.
Being appreciated feels nice, and her attention is a nice ego boost after getting my ass handed to me by whoever the fuck attacked me.
“Sorry,” she mumbles, tearing her gaze from my chest. “Where do you want these?” She holds up my discarded clothes, still not looking at me.
“My desk chair is fine.”
I lean over to undo my boots as she brings my clothes over to my desk, but the ache in my side stops me, and I let out a low groan as I sit back up.
“What’s wrong?” Eden asks, hurrying back over to my bed.
“My side is a bit sore.” I glance down and see that the area between my hipbone and the bottom of my ribs is bright red, and I can already see streaks of a dark blue bruise forming over the inflamed skin.
Thank fuck he missed my ribs, otherwise I’d be in a hell of a lot more pain right now.
“Do you want help?” she asks. “I can take them off for you.”
“It’s fine,” I tell her quickly.
Having her help me to my room or get me water and put my clothes away is one thing, but asking her to take off my boots feels wrong. Like I’m debasing her after everything she’s done for me.
“So you’re just going to sleep in them?” She gives me another look that’s so reminiscent of my sister’s. “Or are you going to let me help you since you obviously need it?”
“Help me,” I mumble. “Thanks,” I add, injecting as much sincerity into my voice as I can while she kneels at my feet.
Her nimble fingers make quick work of the laces of my boots, and she carefully slips them off and tucks them against the wall so they’re out of the way.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asks, watching me carefully as I pull my phone out of my pocket and toss it on the bed.
“I’m fine,” I say for what feels like the hundredth time.
She gives me a dubious look but doesn’t say anything as she watches me hoist my feet back onto my bed and lean back against my headboard.
“Sorry if getting my ass kicked ruined your plans for the night,” I say when I’m settled.
She perches on the edge of the mattress next to me. “Honestly, it’s probably a good thing you did.”
I shoot her a confused look.
She lets out a soft laugh and shakes her head. “I was on my way to Rebel House when I saw you.”
“You were?”
She nods and lets out another laugh, this one as sardonic as her wry half-smile.
“Were you going to see Felix?” I ask.
I might not have ever spoken to Eden before, but it’s no secret that her best friend moved into Rebel House earlier this year, and as far as anyone knows, he’s the only non-member to ever live in one of the frats. I don’t know all the details ofthe situation, but apparently there’s some obscure school rule about siblings, or stepsiblings in Felix’s case, being required to live together after a family tragedy, and he moved in with his stepbrother Killian, who happens to be Xave’s cousin.
I shove that thought away before it can go anywhere. Xave is the last person I want to think about right now, and I don’t need to be popping wood in front of Eden because I’m remembering how Xave’s dick felt in my mouth.
“Nope, I was going to the main house to see Jordan.” She chews on her lip for a few beats. “But it’s a good thing you distracted me because that would have been a huge mistake.” Her eyes widen in horror. “Not that I’m glad you got hurt,” she says quickly. “Just that nothing good ever comes from asking Jordan for help.”
“Help? Are you okay?”
She smiles, some of her earlier sarcasm melting away as her expression softens. “Yeah. Mostly. I think.”
