Jax cracks up.
“Blesk has a gig at the Grill,” Erik explains, straightening me without missing a beat. “She’s a musician.”
"What do you play?" Jaxon asks, folding his arms over hischest, accentuating his biceps. Yes, Jaxon, I can see your muscles.
"Just an acoustic guitar.”
As the wind picks up, my skirt shimmies up. Jaxon takes a nice, long, noticeable look at my thighs. I look at Erik, who doesn’t notice Jax’s gaze, too focused on me.
"Can't wait to see you up there," Jaxon says through a light smirk and another obvious leer at my upper thighs.
Ugh. I refuse to acknowledge his double entendre and just say, "Thanks."
"Don't be humble, Blesk,” Erik says. “She doesn’t just play guitar. She writes her own stuff and sings. She's unreal. But…” He stares at me. I go still. “If you don’t want to,” he continues, “I can call Marcus right now and cancel the whole thing. We can stay in.”
Always here to save me. Always here to help me over edges I’m not ready to jump from.Stay in?No.
“Don’t,” I say, then immediately backtrack. “I mean—I’ll do it.” I present what I hope is my most convincing smile while my heart hammers.
He holds my gaze a moment before he nods. “Alright.”
After we collect my suitcase and guitar from administration, we make our way to my dorm.
Eeee.
I peer down at my unimpressively small baggage. Only essentials. I don’t really do clutter. Or trinkets. Or posters. My life has been more… Buffy, The Vampire Slayer, fighting for her life than Joey sneaking through Dawson’s window.
Once we pass the old gargoyles with their leering grins andchipped wings, the lobby hits me with its unexpected brightness, gleaming tile floors, plain but comfortable-looking sofas surrounding a few wooden coffee tables, and a wall of mailboxes.
Erik reads the “FEMALE RESIDENTS ONLY” sign and his jaw softens.
I approach room twenty-three. I drop my baggage on the floor and stand in front of the door.
This is it.
I pause.
“You gonna go in?” Erik asks.
“It’s just… this is my home for the next four years.”
“Yeah.”
“And I want to take it all in.”
“Take your time.” He leans against the opposite wall, crosses his arms, watching my hesitation. A soft, knowing grin rests on his face.
I got this. “Okay.” I slide my key in and push the door open, immediately greeted by a bouncing girl.
“Hi!” a girl yells, jumping up from her position on the room’s central rug. “Hi, I’m Elise.Ooh,wow you smell like daisies!” She yanks my guitar case from my hand, carries it to a bed, and drops it on the mattress.
Um…
“Thanks, it’s my perfume…” I like that she doesn’t try to shake my hand at least. We’re already past formalities, clearly.
“This is your bed,” she begins. “I’ve been waiting for you all day. Did you go to orientation? How old are you? Sorry, I don’t mean to come on so strong.”
I blink at her. “Um, hi. I’m Blesk.” What were her other questions—how old am I?
