The Freshman (College Years 1)

Nice. All the guys I hooked up with my freshman year either lived in dorms or shared a room in a tiny apartment filled with six other douchebags. The guys I dated back then were the absolute worst. Young and horny and not interested in any type of conversation. They were only after one thing. At first, that’s all I wanted too.

But now…I’m second guessing all of my earlier decisions in life. With men. Boys. I don’t know what I want anymore.

That’s not true. I know what I want currently.

Tony.

“Any of them home right now?” I ask.

“They probably are. Couple of our friends are probably there too. They sit around and play Call of Duty all night.”

Typical. I’m sure he plays Call of Duty as well.

“I’ll follow you to your place. I can’t stay long though. I have an early class tomorrow,” I say.

We stop in front of our parked SUVs. “What time is your class?” he asks.

“Eight.” I make a face.

“That sucks,” he says easily. “But don’t worry. I won’t take up too much of your time.”

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

I follow him back to an apartment complex that isn’t too far from mine. As in, we live literally down the road from each other.

Of course we do.

He waits for me as I park, and then leads the way to his condo. It’s a newer complex, filled with two-story condominiums that cater to college students, and there’s a giant gym in the center of the complex that’s full of people. Most of them women clad in sports bras and leggings on the various machines.

“You work out there?” I ask him as we walk past it.

“Sometimes. I get a good enough workout with football practice most of the time. We do a lot of strength conditioning,” he explains.

I am dying to see his abs. Does this make me a shallow person?

Probably.

When we’re finally at his place, he opens the unlocked door for me, and the first thing I see is a stairwell. Once I’m in the living room, I see it’s filled with guys. Like, a lot of guys. The TV is on, but there’s no sound. Music is playing, and it’s really loud.

“Tony! Where the fuck you been?” yells the blond. Jackson. He approaches us, his gaze going to me, his expression sobering right up. “Oh shit. It’s the sexy blonde.”

Clearly, he’s drunk. Or high. Maybe a combi

nation of the two.

“You guys remember Hayden, right?” Tony asks as he stops to stand right next to me. “Be nice.”

“You telling that to us or to her?” The one who winked at me says that.

“Shut the fuck up, Caleb,” Tony says good-naturedly.

“Hey guys.” I wave at them, glancing around the living room. They have a giant dark gray sectional couch that everyone is sprawled on, and the place is relatively clean. Impressive, considering there are at least six guys crowded around this room.

“What are you doing?” Tony asks Jackson.

“Call of Duty tournament,” he says with a shrug. “We’re bored.”

“Sorry I’m missing it.” He glances over at me. “Want to see my room?”