1
“You ‘bout ready?” my roommate Kelley asks from where he’s leaning on the kitchen counter. He already has his jacket on and he’s typing something on his phone, probably sending an update to the group chat about our ETA.
“Yeah. Just finishing this up,” I mumble as I work with my needle to close off the latest knitted hat I’ve been working on. I’ll attach a pompom to the crown later. I drop my stuff back into my basket and stand from where I’ve been working on the couch.
“How many is that?” Kelley asks, nodding to the box of colorful knitted hats sitting next to the coffee table.
I snag my coat off the back of the recliner and slide it on. “That would be number forty-three,” I state proudly, flashing him a grin. Once I get to fifty, Ivy, Kelley’s girlfriend and one of my best friends, offered to wash and bag them for me. Then I’ll take them to the Knots of Love collection location.
This will be my eighth box of fifty hats since July.
That’s four hundred knitted hats in eight months.
I don’t mean to brag, but I’m a beast.
“Damn,” Kelley says as he follows me out, “this box filled up fast.”
“No shit. Interviews had me keyed, and the wait was killer.” The more pressure I’ve got on my shoulders, the faster I knit. Needless to say, the entire med school application process is to thank for my successful hat production.
“All worth it now, though, yeah?” He grins at me as we slide into his Jeep.
“Hells yes.” I grin back.
We pull up to Ivy’s apartment complex, and I wait in the car while Kelley runs in to grab her. And to also probably bang one out on the couch since Bailey, V’s roomie and another of my good friends, is already at Riggs’s place. I swear, Kell and V never stop boning, but they gotta make up for all the years they spent pining, I guess.
When I see them coming back to the car fifteen minutes later, I jump into the back seat, so V can ride shotgun.
“How many?” I ask them when they’re buckling up.
“How many what?” Sweet V asks, her innocent baby blues blinking at me from the front seat, and I choke on a laugh, just as Kelley throws up two fingers.
“Two,” I shout, pretending to be appalled. “A whole quarter hour and onlytwo?” Kelley fights laughter, and Ivy shakes her head, finally catching on. “Shoulda picked me, V,” I joke. “I’d have made you come at least three times.”
Ivy and Kelley laugh it off; they know I’m just kidding. Those two are grossly perfect for each other, and though I was feeling V for a bit when we first met, I backed off pretty quickly when I saw how she and Kell were together.
I knew they were gone for each other even before they did.
“I got seven more, V, then I’m ready for you,” I change the subject, and Ivy whips around with a smile.
“Dang, Jesse, that was fast,” she praises, and I mime dusting off my shoulders. “Are you going to want me to take them to Mrs. Gunther or are you going to do it?”
“I’ll do it,” I tell her. “You know she likes me better.”
Ivy rolls her eyes at my jibe. Mrs. Roxanne Gunther, the nice older lady who runs the Knots of Love collection site near the Butler University campus, likes Ivy just fine, but she fucking loves me. Roxanne is about ninety years old and drives her late husband’s 1976 Ford Mustang Cobra to deliver her Avon orders. She always has some sort of pie and fresh sweet tea at her house, and she’s got a new badass story to tell me every time I drop off a box of hats for donation. I fucking love that lady.
“You better watch it, or she’ll ask you to be husband number four,” Kelley says with a laugh, and I waggle my brows.
“I’m down. You know I like the older women.” I say it jokingly enough, and while Kelley chuckles, I don’t miss the way Ivy’s lips purse slightly. She’s the protective mama bear of our group, and she’s still not over the bullshit that went down last summer. I’m not quite over it, either, but I don’t tell her that. It’s going to take her some time. I reach up and squeeze her biceps lightly, and she flashes me a soft smile before taking a deep breath.
Kelley pulls up to the curb, a block down from Riggs’s townhouse. I can already hear the music pumping from the building and see people milling about on the front lawn. Riggs Stanton, Butler University’s star pitcher, has been dating Bailey since around Christmas. They had a rocky as hell start, but things are going good now. He even hangs with me and Kelley on nights when V and B are doing secretive girl shit that we’re not invited to.
“Damn, is the whole campus here?” Kelley muses as we hop out of the Jeep. He slings his arm over Ivy’s shoulder, and we make our way to the house. “Bet Riggs loves this.”
I snort, because we all know Riggs does not love this.
If Riggs could go the rest of his life without having to attend another raging house party, he gladly would. Bummer for him, his roommate Dylan was selected to play in the MLB Draft League, so the whole baseball team decided to throw him a party. And since Riggs is the unofficial team captain and campus stud, he’s hosting. Dude’s fucking thrilled. Not.
When we walk into the house, we’re greeted almost immediately by Bailey and Riggs. Ivy must have texted to let them know we were here.
“Hi guys!” Bailey shouts over the music, then she links her arm with Ivy’s and starts to pull her away.
“Kelley,” Riggs greets as he shuttles us in, then he turns to me. “Slipper Dick,” he says, lips tilted in a small smirk, so I wink at him.
“It’s Doctor Slipper Dick to you,” I say, and his grin breaks through, just as Bailey shouts at us over her shoulder.
“You’re not a doctor yet! If someone gets hit by a car, we’re still calling 911.”
I flip her off just as she flips me off, then she and V disappear into the house.
“This place is packed,” Kelley says, and he gestures for my coat, so I shrug it off and hand it to him. “You want these in your room?” he asks Riggs.
“Yeah, just toss them on the bed.” Kelley heads up the stairs with our coats, and I follow Riggs into the kitchen, weaving in and out of the insane crowd of people on the way.
I’m reaching into the fridge and grabbing three of the fancy beers when someone bumps into me. I step back to find Riggs’s roommate, Dylan, blitzed off his ass and grinning like an idiot. It’s his party; he can dude bro if he wants to.
“J Dawg,” he shouts and pulls me into a drunk hug.
“Hey,” I say with a smile, giving his back a few pats before pulling away. “Congrats on the Draft League, man. That’s fucking awesome.”
“I know, right?” he slurs. “And what about you? You got into Harvard Med!”
I can’t resist the in, so I grin and say, “What, like it’s hard?”
Dylan scrunches up his face in disbelief. “Yeah, bro. It’s fucking Harvard.”
“Legally Blonde?” I ask, brows raised and eyes wide. Is he messin’ with me?
“Dude.” He blinks. “This is my natural hair color.”
“Never mind, man.” I shake my head. “Super excited for you.” I pat him on the shoulder once more as I shuffle around him. “I need your autograph before you leave.”
I push my way back through the kitchen and small dining area until I find Kelley and Riggs in the living room. Their girlfriends are nowhere to be found, so I stroll up and offer them each a beer.
“Beer pong in the garage?” I suggest.