Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 72060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
“Sounds romantic.” I sigh dreamily. “I want something like that.”
He bumps my shoulder playfully as we head inside our dorm. “You never know. Things can happen when you least expect it.”
“Doubtful,” I mutter.
Once in bed, I turn on my Kindle, and it opens to the last passage I read.
I get lost in the romance between the pages since it’s better than reality.
This one is about childhood friends who become lovers later in life, and given what we just discussed on the way home, it’s a bit too on the nose for me. Still, I keep reading until my eyes grow tired.
7
DEX
Still under my covers, I stare up at the ceiling. My stomach was a mess all last night after Austin left. I hated that I wasn’t the one to comfort him, even though I tried. That it was his new roommate he looked to first. No doubt they stayed up late, talking it through.
The longing on Austin’s face when he thought Brandon showed up because of him and then the disappointment as he watched him flirt with someone else made the guilt double in my gut.
But I noticed another phenomenon as well. Because Austin had been so preoccupied with Brandon showing up, he’d been more willing to interact with other people, which means he’s good at it but doesn’t realize it.
And I want nothing more than to show him all his good points.
I’m not giving myself a pass for my bad ideas, and I certainly understand why he’s become so doubtful where I’m concerned. Things definitely tend to go south whenever I try to help, so it’s a good thing he’s put his foot down.
Milo’s voice is groggy as he sits up in bed. “You alive?”
“Barely,” I reply. Most of the guests left after midnight, but there was still the cleanup to contend with and more to do today.
“I hear you. It was a good time, though.”
“It was.” I sit up and stretch. “But who decided that Thursdays were a good party night? I’ve got a morning class.”
He rolls out of bed and reaches for a towel. “Guess we’re all just trying to extend the weekend.”
“Guess so.” I sign in to my job app, silently cursing myself that I agreed to work this weekend. But I have no room to complain. Since high school, I’ve had this job at a country club that hosts weddings and other fancy events. I help set up, serve guests, and break down the venue at the end of the night. I make my own schedule, which ends up being about one long weekend a month, and it gives me the flexibility I need for all the other stuff in my life.
I finally get my ass in gear and grab a shower before getting dressed and heading out the door and toward campus.
I still have time before class, so when I spot Austin at the coffee cart, I get in line, not only because I badly need some caffeine but also because I want to make sure we’re okay. I don’t want him to think I’m stressing over last night, but I am serious about not meddling in his dating prospects again. That message was loud and clear.
Two guys in front of me are from the swim team, and I only know that because of their purple-and-gold letterman jackets. One of them is chattering more loudly than the other as he recounts the baseball team scandal involving drinking and charges for a player being at a party with an underage girl. It’s been a PR nightmare for the school and was the focus of one of our student government meetings in regard to the athletic department considering education on consent. Christ, if that doesn’t send a message to the other athletes at FU, let alone any students who have partied hard, I don’t know what will. That said, my head is still pounding from lack of sleep, and I almost want to tell them to tone it down.
I scroll through my phone as they step up to order.
“So one lattechino…I mean cappalatte.”
My gaze springs to Austin, and given the rosy flush on his cheeks, he’s mortified by his screw-up. The guys are gracious about it, but since the only time Austin becomes flustered is when a cute guy is involved, I try to guess which one he thinks is attractive.
Probably the quieter one with the dark hair. Once they receive their coffees, they step aside so I can order.
I try and fail to keep the smile from splitting my face.
“Stop it,” Austin scoffs. “I know what you’re gonna say.”
“No, you don’t.” My gut tightens because that familiar tension between us is back. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna urge you to go talk to anyone. I promised you I’m done interfering.”
Besides, I have no idea if those two are together, though I have a feeling they’re not.