His black henley pulls across his chest and shoulders in a way that emphasizes the muscles he builds so he has more stamina to sculpt with hard mediums. His hair is still messy, dark strands falling across his forehead, and he hasn’t shaved in a day or two so there’s stubble along his jaw that sharpens the angles of his face. His sleeves are pushed to his elbows and I can see the tendons in his forearms, the hands that sculpt, shape, and build things, and I have to look away because I’m staring at his hands like a weirdo.
I really need to stop thinking of those strong hands all over my body.
Even though my heart is pounding, I keep folding a sweater and try to ignore him.
“You don’t snore, do you?” he asks. “Your room is next to mine.”
Dammit.I thought I picked the room next to Carter’s. Of coursehisroom is right there on the other side of this wall. I fold the sweater slower. “I don’t snore. Do you?”
He pushes off the frame and walks closer. Two steps. Three. “Maybe.” His voice drops as his face gets a bit too close to mine. “Will that be a problem?”
It’s not a flirtatious sentence. Written on paper it would read flat. But out of Dorien’s mouth, with his eyes holding mine and his head tilted just slightly, everything feels electric. Every word becomes a dare.
I open my mouth to respond with something I think is brilliant, but what comes out is absolutely nothing because Tyler appears behind Dorien, duffel bag over his shoulder. He’s almost as tall as Dorien, but not quite, and his hair flops over his forehead. He’s smiling like a golden retriever who just found the park.
“Hey!” he says.
Dorien turns and his posture stiffens. “Who the hell are you?”
Tyler extends his hand for a bro shake, completely unfazed. “Tyler. June invited me.”
They shake. Dorien’s eyes slide to me.
Tyler drops his bag and catches my gaze. “We sharing a room?”
And here it is. The wall I brought. I look at Dorien looking at me, and I think about his voice two days ago saying I’m pretty when I’m concentrating, and I think about how I basically melted from his seductive tone, and I think about how Icannotlet this keep happening because every time I get close to him I feel happy but also scared.
Scared of bad things happening. Doesn’t he still feel that too? It feels like he’s now ready to throw caution to the wind.
I’m not there yet.
I hook my arm through Tyler’s. “Yup. Hope you don’t snore.”
He laughs. “Nah.” He tosses his bag on the floor next to the bed.
Dorien gives me a look I can read perfectly because I’ve been studying his face for years. It says:really?And beneath that, a flicker of a dare that says:we’ll see.Then he turns and walks out.
I unhook my arm from Tyler’s, sit on the bed, then stare at the ceiling and think,I already regret this.But Tyler is a good guy. He won’t pressure me for anything, so we can platonically share the same bed.
“Want to go for a walk?” he asks, bursting with enthusiasm. “The woods look amazing.”
“No,” I say. “I need a nap.”
He nods, unbothered. “Cool. I’ll go explore.”
He leaves and I immediately dig through my bag for my diary and flip to a blank page. I’ve been keeping notes on Dorien’s behavior since the cemetery. I need to see it written down to believe it’s real. The list so far:
He held the door for me after Mixed Media last week, and when I gave him a suspicious look he said, “Don’t get used to it,” but he did it again every class after that.
He waited outside my watercolor class to give me coffee, exactly the way I like it. Didn’t say a word, just handed it to me then left. I didn’t even know he knew how I take my coffee.
In Mixed Media this week, I was struggling with an adhesive that wouldn’t bond and he came up behind me, put his hand over mine, and said, “Slower. You’re rushing.” His mouth was close enough to my ear that I felt his breath on my neck.
And Carter has been telling me that Dorien is asking about mea lot. Like every time they hang out. My cousin is starting to get annoyed by it.
Things changed for me at the cemetery, but did they change even more for Dorien? Honestly, I’m starting to wonder if he’s been body-snatched, or this is somehow his twin.
I add a few notes to my diary about how it felt like he was flirting just now, even though he was asking something dumb about me snoring. I write:What am I supposed to do? Should I…
