Just when I think he’s finally about to leave, he spins around to the toilet and starts fumbling with his fly, a smug grin on his face.
I shoot him a scandalized look. He glances back with a smug grin.
“I give up.” I groan, dropping the hair dryer onto the counter. Shielding my eyes with one hand, I blindly make my way to the door. “I feel sorry for whoever decides it would be a good idea to date you!” I yell out from the corridor.
The toilet flushes in response.
19LANE
Finals season is in full swing, and my evenings are depressingly monotonous. Beer, study, pizza, study. Rinse and repeat. I fucking hate exam season. In true Lane style, I’ve waited until the very last minute to start studying—and I’m stressed. That said, this year is pretty different. I’ve got a rock-solid study buddy who’s drilling me like a Marine now. Once she realized how behind and disorganized I was, my roomie put together a military-style schedule. Now I’m stuck with Drill Sergeant Lois, who quizzes me even when I’m in the bathroom. In exchange, I let her practice her physio stuff on me, and trust me: There’s nothing enjoyable about it. I get the sense she takes sadistic pleasure in hearing me grunt.
“Quit the whining,” she snarls, tugging on my leg.
I’m lying on my bed, Lois sitting at my feet.
“I think you should pick a different major.” I wince, trying to shake myself free. “Maybe try something where you only handle corpses.”
“I said, don’t move!”
“This is literal torture.”
“You really are such a crybaby, aren’t you?”
She slaps my knee and gets to her feet. While her back’s turned, I go for gold, pushing myself up and grabbing her by the waist, pulling her back onto the mattress and watching her squirm once she realizes I’m out for revenge.
“Let me go!” she shrieks as my hands wrap around her lower thigh.
I dodge a foot that comes flying toward my stomach and dig my thumb in above her kneecap, my other hand clasping her wrist.
“Ow!”
“Now who’s the crybaby?” I laugh, running my fingers over her skin.
“I’m gonna kill you, Lane!” she yells.
She’s thrashing harder now, and I decide to kick things up a notch, hovering over her and launching into a full-blown tickle attack, watching as she wriggles and shrieks. She’s wasting her breath—keeping her pinned down is child’s play.
“Help! You’re squashing me!” she yelps. “Get off me!”
“That’s funny, because I think you’re super comfy.” I pinch her gently on her side, and she falls still, her limbs suddenly loosening. Just when I think she’s decided to call it quits, she starts her thrashing again, her knee slamming me right in the balls.
“Fuck!” I groan, collapsing on top of her.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” I can feel her breath against my Adam’s apple. “Did that hurt?”
I’m too winded to speak. Once the stabbing starts to fade, I lift my head and glare at her.
“I won that round, right?”
Unbelievable. I blink a few times, suddenly aware of how we’re sprawled out on the bed, her beneath me. She must have read my mind, because she’s blushing.
“So now that we’ve quit—mind getting the hell off me?” she whispers, before swallowing hard.
“What’s a little roughhousing between friends?” I prop myself up on one elbow beside her head.
“No, this is weird. It’s like you’re about to lick my face, or something.”
“Who even does that?”
