Room Mated: Standalone Reverse Harem Romance

“Perfect,” Mason muttered under his breath. “I do not think that word means what she thinks it means.”

Kylie either didn’t hear him or didn’t care, because her smile got bigger. “Come on, let’s go see how it looks.” She all but pushed us out of the kitchenette and crossed the room to stand next to the study table. “It’s perfect,” she said with a sigh of contentment.

I held my breath as I waited to see if she’d make us move it again, but after a few seconds, it seemed we were in the clear.

“Now we have our own bar,” Kylie said dreamily.

And indeed, we did. Kylie and Parker had spotted the monstrosity when they passed by the chemistry building. The object in question had a chest-high countertop that was eight feet, six inches long and thirty-two inches wide. How’d I know the exact measurements? Because I was the only one who’d thought to measure it before we tried to get it in the service elevator.

“Now I can make proper drinks for you all,” Kylie gushed. Despite how heavy the thing had been, it made the perfect bar. The countertop was hard and smooth. The part facing outward had wooden paneling, and the side facing the kitchenette had plenty of shelves for bottles of booze and whatever else Kylie needed.

“And then we can all die of whatever chemicals are housed in the chem lab,” Mason said.

That didn’t deflate Kylie’s grin at all. “I’ll clean it all, I promise.”

I pointed. “Don’t forget that end, that’s where they tested their anecdotes on live anthrax.” Kylie gave me a good-natured shove, or at least, she tried to. It didn’t have much effect since she was half my height. Okay, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration, but it still felt like I was being bossed around by a squeaky little mouse. Or maybe it was just my aching back making me cranky.

Kylie turned on her heels, still bouncing. “I can’t wait to organize all the bottles you bought. And we’ll need cups. And ice. Do you think we should get a bigger fridge? The freezer’s so small in that one.”

“Wow, you’re really committed to your drinking,” Mason said, and this time, Kylie smacked him.

“It’s not about drinking, it’s about camaraderie. Hanging out together. Having fun. That’s why people go to a bar.”

“I think some people go there for the drinking,” Parker said. I had to admit he seemed more animated today. More present. Maybe the manual labor had done him some good. He probably needed the exercise endorphins. It wasn’t like he hit the gym most days like he’d done last year.

Kylie practically skipped over to the wall of windows. She dragged one of the stools over, pushing it in front of the bar. “Look, it fits perfectly!”

“Oh good, now more of our furniture is covered in anthrax,” Mason said, and Parker laughed. What was up with him today?

Kylie pulled more stools over, and we let her. Collectively, the three of us had moved enough furniture for the day. “It’ll be great,” she gushed. “You’ll see!”

Mason looked at her quizzically. “Why the hell do you keep smiling like that?”

“Smiling like what?” Kylie asked, beaming.

“Like that.”

“I’m just happy,” she claimed. “This was already the most amazing dorm suite on the planet, and now it has a bar, so it’s even better. Why shouldn’t I smile about that?”

“It’s just… weird,” Mason said.

“I like it when you smile,” Parker said, something close to a smile widening his own lips.

“Kylie’s smiling her butt off and Parker’s way less grumpy than usual,” I mused. “Is there something going on that we should know about?”

Mason’s eyes widened as he looked at the pair of them.

“I’m just excited about the anthrax bar,” Parker said.

“Me too,” Kylie said. “I’ll clean it right now.” Still smiling, she ducked behind the bar, looking for cleaning supplies in the kitchen cabinets.

“I’ve got some studying to do,” Parker said, grabbing his backpack and heading to the balcony.

There was an actual spring in his step. What the hell?

Mason jerked his head toward the bedroom, and I followed him in, shaking my head. Back in the main room, Kylie actually whistled while she worked.

Mason closed the door. “Do you think Parker got farther with her than we did?” Disbelief filled his voice. “No, it can’t be. No fucking way.”

“And yet, she’s grinning from ear to ear and he looks fifty percent less like an advertisement for depression medicine.” I shook my head, trying to process it. “So maybe they did do something.”

“It’s always the quiet ones,” Mason muttered. But then a familiar expression stole over his face. It was the one he wore when he was about to obliterate his opponent on the tennis court. “Guess that means we need to up our game.”

I grinned. “I guess we do.”