Davy Harwood (The Immortal Prophecy 1)

“Get back here from wherever you are and deal with Adam. I don’t want him here.”

I sighed in surrender. “I’ll be right there.”

“Thank you. I’m going to make Adam wait in the lobby for you.”

Before I could reply, she’d already hung up.

Roane peered out the window and then looked back. “Gregory’s back. I’ll have him take you to your dorm.”

I wondered if my exhaustion was from the Immortal’s change in my body or knowing my life wouldn’t be the same again. A third option was the desire that literally throbbed inside of me. My guess—the Immortal had nothing on Roane. When I started towards the door, he stopped me. “Stay away from Wren. Make sure you’re never alone with her.”

“Why?”

“There are some things that you don’t know about her and she knows about you. Avoid her if you see her.”

I nodded and left with a heavy heart.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“We have seven different types of chairs in the room. Why do we have seven different chairs? It’s insane. It’s a complete lack of chair-efficiency. I can’t handle all these chairs.”

This is what greeted me as I stepped inside my dorm room.

Emily was frantic. She had placed every chair in a line, which wasn’t long because our dorm room wasn’t big. Now she paced with frantic hands in the air.

I frowned and shut the door. “What’s going on?”

“He called! Can you believe it? He called. He’s downstairs. Right now!”

“Who?”

“That guy from the bar. The one that…” It was endearing how my roommate hung her head and blushed. “…I made out with. I’ve never done that, Davy.” Her eyes were wide and horrified. “I can’t believe I did that and now he found me. He’s downstairs.”

I wasn’t sure what my role was here, but I improvised. “What does he want?”

“Dinner,” she blurted out.

Horrifying. A slow smile started to spread on my face. “Dinner?”

“Can you believe it? He wants to sit and eat and talk. I don’t know what to do.”

“Apparently you’re categorizing our chairs.” I frowned as I looked over the room. There was an inordinate amount of chairs. Both of us had desk chairs. There was a pink bean bag that sat beside an inflated purple bean bag. Not to mention the couch, plus another lawn chair—I wasn’t sure where that came from. Then there were our regular desk chairs that came with the dorm room. She was right. I counted seven.

“I still feel like crap. Why do I feel like this? I hate being sick. I have too much work to do.” Emily moaned and fell into one of the chairs.

A thought occurred to me. “You can come with me and Adam.”

Disgust first flashed over her features, but then a bright smile lit it up. “You’re right. It’s not awkward then. I won’t even have to talk. You like to talk. You and Adam can talk, but no mushy stuff. I don’t think I can stomach that tonight.” She pressed an open palm over her stomach and I feared she was going to actually throw up.

I remembered my night of vomiting and grimaced. My stupid body had been changing and I felt a tingle in my palm. My body was still changing.

When I turned towards the closet, I muttered to myself, “I don’t know if I could stomach it either.”

“What’s he wearing?”

“Who?”

“The guy!”