Oswald is picking up on the same cues I am. We both know when we’re not wanted, but the difference here is I don’t think that’s really what’s going on. Something certainly spooked Waylynn, and I have every intention of finding out what that was, but then my brother says, “We should get going.”
I let him see my aggravation, but he still rises from the chair and lays a hand on my shoulder. “Thank you for letting us crash at your place all day. We’ll let you get some rest.”
I huff under my breath and push up to stand, dislodging his hand. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow.” It ends up coming out like a threat, but only because I’m pissed at Oz.
“Yes, Mr. Gravlin.” Waylynn bobs her head twice, reacting to my tone.
The way Oswald jerks his head around to look at her draws my attention. Damn it, that’s mine. I grunt and grab his arm to haul him toward the door, suddenly in a rush when I wasn’t before.
“See you tomorrow,” he calls as I shove him out. Once we’re in the truck, he murmurs, “That was hot as fuck.”
“Shut up,” I mumble dejectedly. I don’t need him to tell me. I get a fucking hard-on every time she says shit like that.
“Do you think she went to a Catholic school with all girls and little skirts?” He’s looking at the door wistfully. “Or a boarding school where—”
“Stop,” I tell him, but the thoughts are already in my head, and I’m having a hard time not picturing sweet Waylynn in white thigh highs and not much else. “Who do you think was on the phone?”
“I don’t know, someone from back home. You think it was a boyfriend?”
“I don’t know. She said she missed them and told them she loved them.” I almost feel bad for listening to her call, almost.
“She seemed kind of sad after too,” Oz agrees. “It could have been her family. I hear my teammates say shit like that sometimes to theirs.”
Damn, it’s been so long since I thought of anyone else besides Oswald when it comes to family, that didn’t even cross my mind, or maybe it’s just because it involves her and I can’t seem to think straight where she’s concerned. “You’re right—it was probably her family.” That makes me feel better.
“Do you think we should have asked her what was wrong? I mean, it felt like we were already barging into her life as it was. I didn’t want to push her,” Oz muses.
“I didn’t ask because I knew she wouldn’t tell us. I was going to see if she would soften up if we stayed longer.”
“How much longer? We’ve been there most of the day.” He snorts.
“Are you sure you don’t know what happened? You didn’t say something?”
“Unless she thinks I’m a dumbass because I didn’t know how to work the vacuum, I’ve got nothing.”
“Am I taking you to the dorm?” I question as we leave her quiet neighborhood for sorority row.
“I don’t have my shit,” he says in lieu of answering.
“So that means you want me to wait for you while you go in and get your shit.”
“If you don’t want to, I can get up early and grab my stuff in the morning.” He avoids answering again.
“It’s fine, just be quick. I don’t want to be waiting out here forever.” I sigh.
“You can come in and say hi to some of your old friends,” he offers jokingly. I never made a ton of friends. I hung out and partied with a few people, but not friends. I only have two of those—Bates and Oz.
“I’m good. Bates called me earlier, and I didn’t pick up,” I tell him so he knows I have something to do.
“Oh shit, we probably should have invited him to Waylynn’s. We always do Sunday dinner if he doesn’t have a show.” Oswald is looking at me instead of getting out of the car.
“He knew there was a possibility we wouldn’t make it back with the game being out of town.”
“Why didn’t he come?”
“He had to work Saturday. It was overtime. Go, I want to get home,” I urge.
Oz slams the truck door and jogs down the long path to the south quad, and I shoot a text off to Bates.
