I don’t get out much. I’m a mechanical engineering major and usually buried under a ton of homework.
Interesting. I’m majoring in fashion merchandising. Pretty much opposite ends of the spectrum and yet we’re both housed in the same building.
That’s true.
You can always tell the difference between the fashion students and the engineering ones who wear pocket protectors and look socially out of place with the crowds of people.
All right…
This little back and forth has gone on long enough. All I’m doing is prolonging the inevitable and digging my grave deeper. Instead of responding, I toss the phone on the nightstand and yank off the T-shirt and jeans before sliding beneath the covers. For good measure, I turn on my side and face the wall, so I won’t be tempted to pick up the cell.
I squeeze my eyelids closed as the slim device pings.
Nope. I’m not going to do it. I’m not—
Less than ten seconds later, I roll over and snatch it from the nightstand.
Fuck me.
6
BROOKE
My eyelids crack open when there’s a knock on my bedroom door. The garbled-out words must be loud enough for Sasha to hear, because she pushes the thick wood open and takes a peek inside my room.
“Hey, are you up?”
“No. Go away. Still sleeping.”
Instead, she pads into the room, and I catch a whiff of maple syrup and warm butter. I open my eyes more fully to see a fresh stack of pancakes.
With a groan, I push myself up into a seated position and shove my hair out of my face. “Oh my god, that smells amazing.”
She waves her hand in front of it until the tantalizing scent penetrates my senses and my belly grumbles.
“I made them just for you,” she sing-songs.
As soon as she hands over the plate, I dig in. Without question, breakfast is one of my favorite meals of the day. Especially when I’m not the one cooking it. Sasha has always been an early riser and loves to putter around the tiny kitchen. Although, with soccer and classes, she doesn’t have a lot of spare time to do it. But it’s fully appreciated when she does.
As I shove a forkful of fluffy goodness into my mouth, she settles on the edge of my bed.
“You know it’s ten o’clock, right?”
My eyes widen as my fork stalls midway to my mouth. “Seriously?”
She nods. “I checked on you a few times to make sure you were still breathing.”
I smirk and devour another bite. “You’re a good friend,” I say around a mouthful of pancake.
With a shake of her head, she squints. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t understand that.” She makes a few tsking noises. “What would Elaine say if she heard you talking with your mouth full?”
It’s tempting to stick out my tongue, but that would probably be gross. The girl did, after all, make me breakfast. So, I’ll let the comment slide.
Once I’ve swallowed down the mouthful, I say, “We both know my mother would be aghast at my lack of manners.” Ugh. Elaine is the last person I want to discuss first thing in the morning. In fact, I try not to think of her unless absolutely necessary.
“She’d probably make you take a refresher course on etiquette.”
She’s not lying about that.
“Why are you such a sleepyhead this morning? We both got home at the same time last night, but I’m pretty sure I was up later than you,” she waggles her brows, “if you know what I mean.”
I roll my eyes. “Yup, I heard.”
My bestie is usually mortified when I mention the decibel level of their little love sessions. This time, she grins, looking as pleased as a cat that just ate the canary.
Rather than delve into her sexcapades, which will only depress me since there haven’t been any shenanigans for me since Andrew, I say, “Actually, I was up texting until five this morning.”
“Ohhhh.” Her eyes widen as she rubs her hands together. A giddy expression settles on her face. “Wait…don’t tell me. Let me guess.” A moment of silence ticks by as she stares at the ceiling with narrowed eyes. “Was it that cute Sig Delt I saw you talking with? FYI—he couldn’t take his eyes off you.”
Her hand snakes out to slap my arm.
“Ouch!” I wince. Sasha works out and can do some major damage if she wants. I’ve been on the receiving end of her playful punches for years. They’re not always so playful. “You almost made me drop the plate.”
“Why didn’t you tell me on the way home?”
I raise my brows. “For one, it’s not that guy. And two, you were so busy sucking face in the backseat, you wouldn’t have heard anything I said.”
A dull flush stains her cheeks. “We were not sucking face.”
“Yeah, you were.” I distinctly remember thinking there was an excellent possibility that he was going to hoover her tonsils right out of her body.