I glance across the room. There’s banging and crashing coming from behind the door, along with some low-level cussing.
I head over to the bathroom. “Need a hand in there?”
Donovan grabs me by the shoulders. “Carrie, what the hell?”
“Seems like your friend needs help.”
Lane starts to laugh. Adam stuffs a fist in his mouth.
“So, you didn’t talk her through our code words, huh, Don?”
“What are you guys talking about?” I glance back and forth between them.
“He’s on the toilet!” Donovan says, frog-marching me back into the living room.
I shudder. That was close. I glare at Donovan.I knew coming here was a bad call, I should have followed my gut!
Lane props an elbow on the back of the couch.
“Just so you know, Carrie—if you ever hear Lewis say he needs to go look for something on his desk… Whatever you do, don’t go into his bedroom.”
I flash him a thumbs-up.
“Why would she go into his bedroom, anyway?” Donovan pipes up.
I glance at him, surprised.
“I can think of plenty of reasons!” Lewis grins, emerging from the bathroom. “You’re Becca’s roomie, right?”
Before I know it, Lewis is pulling me in for a giant bear hug.Hope he washed his hands!I flail my arms in the air.
“Get me out of here,” I choke out, waving my arms at Wolinski.
“This is giving Lois vibes.” Lane laughs.
“Just introducing myself, that’s all.” Lewis releases me from his grip and beams. “Lewis Conley.”
I smooth down my tank and take a step back, reasserting my boundaries—or trying to, anyway. If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s random hugs, especially from chaotic guys like this one.
“Look at her!” Lane shakes his head sternly. “You scared her.”
“I’m good, I promise!” I shoot them a small smile. “I had a dog named Lewis once. He was noisy and weird but super loving.”
I pat him on the shoulder, and he’s enjoying this way too much.
“Stroke me like you mean it, baby!”
I give him a hard stare. “Sadly, we had to put him down.”
Lane bursts out laughing. “Okay, I take it back. She’s worse than Lois!”
“Why do you guys always bring home aggressive women?” Lewis whines, shuffling toward the coffee table. “Nobody loves me!”
If you’d told me at the start of the year that I’d find myself in the Campus Drivers’ den, I would’ve suspected alcohol poisoning or a sudden personality transplant.
“Come on, you coming?” Donovan cuts in abruptly.
His voice makes me jump. He’s been pretty quiet so far today.
