For a second, something flickered in his eyes — but it disappeared too quickly, replaced by his usual cocky half smile, which made him wince. “Was hoping you’d say that.”
He followed me in. I shut the door quickly, leaning against it like I could hold the rest of the world at bay if I just pressed hard enough.
The room suddenly felt too small, too quiet, and too full of him. He pulled his hood back, and under the harsh dorm light, the bruises looked worse. His jaw was swelling, and his knuckles were raw.
“Jesus, Dante.” I crossed my arms tightly, as if that could stop me from reaching for him. “You look like you went several rounds with a cement wall.”
“Close enough,” he muttered, sinking onto the edge of my couch as if he belonged there. “But I’m still standing, so that’s a win.”
I hovered, furious at myself for letting him in and already trying to figure out how to get him out before Bev came home. The two of us together in a small space was a bad idea.
And yet, here we were.
I needed to do something. I walked to the kitchen, yanked open the tiny freezer above the fridge, grabbed the ice tray, and filled a zip-top bag with a handful of ice. I wrapped it in a dish towel and tossed it at him.
He caught it with one hand, hissed when the cold hit his bruised knuckles, then pressed it gingerly to the side of his jaw. “You always this hospitable, Sav?”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I shot back, pacing to avoid staring at the cut along his cheekbone. “If you pass out in here, I’m not the one explaining it to campus security. Trust me, I’ve already got plenty of secrets to keep.”
He sank into the sofa seat, leaned back, winced, then smirked at me. “You’re worried about me.”
I folded my arms tightly. “I’m worried about the gossip, thank you very much. The golden-boy quarterback getting into fights isn’t my problem.”
“Funny,” he murmured, shifting the ice to his split lip. “Feels like I just became your problem when you let me in.”
The air between us grew tense. Too close. Too risky. I should’ve pushed him back into the hallway. I should’ve slammed the door in his smug, bruised face.
Instead, I grabbed another towel, dipped it in cold water, and handed it to him. “Here. You’ve got blood on your knuckles.”
His fingers brushed mine when he took it, the briefest graze, but it sent a pulse straight through me.
He dabbed awkwardly at his knuckles, juggling the ice pack, and before I could stop myself, I reached out and caught his wrist.
“Let me help,” I murmured, pulling the towel from his hand. My fingers brushed his, a jolt of heat passing between us so sharp I nearly dropped the cloth. I pressed the cool fabric against his skin, close enough to smell the faint mix of sweat,blood, and the fresh scent of laundry detergent lingering on his hoodie.
Dante didn’t move. He simply watched me, his blue eyes burning in a way that made the tiny dorm room feel airless.
“Sav,” he said, low, like it wasn’t my name but a secret.
I heard a key in the lock.
I jerked back so quickly that the towel slipped from my hand and hit the floor. “Move!” I hissed at him, pulling him to his feet, ignoring his groans, and ushered him to my room.
“Savvy? You home?” Bev’s voice filled the doorway as I shoved the school’s quarterback into my bedroom and quickly closed the door behind me.
Bev’s brows shot up as she looked at me. “Wow. Okay. Did I interrupt something?”
My heart pounded so loudly I could barely hear myself say, “No. Absolutely not.”
But the warmth of him still lingered in my fingertips, betraying every lie on my tongue — because the undeniable fact was that I had Dante Spence in my bedroom, with no way to get him out anytime soon, not without someone noticing.
And it would be very,verybad if someone saw him.
Chapter 16
Dante
The speed with which she denied the fact that her roommatehadalmost interrupted something, or that I was hiding in her bedroom, made me grin.
