“I’m going to go with a big fat yes,” I finally say.
“Holy shit. That’s hot. And those arms?” Everleigh leans back in her chair with a sultry grin, probably thinking the exact same thing I am.
I give her a look. “Save it for your boyfriend.”
Her focus moves to Tristan, who she’s been dating since last year. He has that jock look to him; bulky muscles, which are understandable since he’s on Chatham U’s football team, the perfect head of hair that wisps up at the ends, and a blinding smile. The perfect match for Everleigh since she used to be a cheerleader. However, while she still prances around in skirts half the time—that habit hasn’t died—I don’t think cheering was as endless a love in comparison to her infatuation with books.
“All I’m saying is he isn’t hard on the eyes. How long do you think until everyone is raving about him on campus?”
“He’s not attending Chatham,” Sylvia announces, welcoming herself back into the conversation.
“What?” Ev asks what I’m thinking. “How is that possible?”
Sylvia shrugs. “I don’t know, but I heard them talking about it when they got here.”
He doesn’t look much older than us and fits in with the guys perfectly well, which prompts the question: whyisn’the attending Chatham U?
Then again, it’s none of my business, and I shouldn’t put too much thought into it. We’ve all been through things, and what we choose to keep private is our own business. There can be a million different explanations, but what does it matter?
“That’s definitely unusual.”
“It’s none of our business,” I tell them because I wouldn’t want someone prying into my life, trying to decipher details that they don’t need to know.
Ev sighs. “You’re right.” She wraps her hand around my shoulder and pulls me into her side. “I missed being here. Home was nice for a few months, but I am so happy to be back in this apartment with you two.”
I lean into her hold, missing how close we all used to be. When the three of us were attached at the hip and didn’t hit up campus parties without each other. “I missed you too, Ev.”
I really did. I missed her affection and caring personality the most. I missed the warmth and liveliness she contributes to the apartment.
“Talking to you too, Sylvia.”
Sylvia’s phone buzzes against the table, and when her brows furrow from whatever she reads on it, she excuses herself, disappearing in the direction of the hall bathroom.
Everleigh tightens her arms around me in a lingering squeeze as we watch her get farther away. There’s a furrow in her brow when she pulls back. “I’m used to her being wild but not claiming an entire wine bottle as her drink for the night. You think she’s okay?”
“Not even close.”
An hour later,after a few people head out, I find myself in the kitchen, looking for something more appetizing than drinking down a few beers on an empty stomach. I’m not in the mood to wake up with a dull headache, and I don’t like how it’ll slow me down when it comes to my new favorite way to destress.
I search the fridge, not finding anything noteworthy, then pick a banana out of the fruit basket. As I’m pulling down the peel, an energy buzzes through the space, and I look up to find Colson tossing a beer can into the recycling bin, the glass clinking into the bottlenecks.
Tension bounces between us almost immediately, but it doesn’t feel all bad. I’m not sure how to approach him after what transpired but know it’s necessary. If Sebastian has a say in it at all, Colson will be around a lot more, and I don’t want it hanging over our heads or turning into an issue big enough to cause waves.
As embarrassing as it may be to confront, I raise my head and clear my throat for the second time in his presence. When his eyes lock with mine, more tension fills the space between us, rolling in like summer rain clouds—the kind that hang around and seemlike they might clear up, but everyone knows they won’t.
I take a bite of my banana and figure it’s best to dive into the deep end. “We should probably talk about the bathroom thing…”
There it is. Out in the open. I’m about to learn what kind of person he is, and I’m looking forward to seeing how he handles it. Getting to know the type of person Sebastian’s cousin is.
“Do we need to?” is his response, and I’m not sure how to take it. If it’s his way of sweeping it under the rug or if it genuinely isn’t that big of a deal to him.
“I’m only bringing it up because I don’t want it to make things uncomfortable.”
His blue eyes linger on mine, crashing into me like a wave on a sandy beach. “I don’t know what to say other than I usually pay more attention to my surroundings, but I do feel bad that it happened. I’m sorry for that.” His voice is a whole lot less harsh than it was when he left the bathroom, and when it cracks during his apology, I get the feeling he’s being genuine with his admission.
“Thank you,” I murmur, not sure what to follow up with because his eyes are, quite literally, the bluest of blues. So blue that it looks like I’m staring out into the Atlantic. “So it happened, but we’ll also pretend like it never happened,” I joke half-heartedly.
The best approach to have. Giving it the attention it needs but also not making it a thorn in our sides for the rest of eternity.
