Boyfriend Material (Hawthorne University, #2)(39)

I laugh. “Okay, it was just something I had to know.”

“Glad to help.” He yawns widely. “Where are we going for brunch?”

I tap him on the shoulder teasingly. “Stop that. I have to go. I have to check on my mom today.”

“All right,” he says, sitting up and stretching.

I start to move backward to let him stand, but I forget where we are, on the edge of the water, and nearly topple over. At the last second, he reaches forward and grabs me, pulling me flush against him so that all the breath leaves my body.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs as his hand caresses down my spine. “Every time.”





16





Eric





I wake up, stretch, turn my head—and stare at the eyes that greet me. Lucifer is curled up with part of his tail in my hair. “Beat it,” I growl.

He gets up and prisses to the other pillow.

After my shower, he’s moved back to mine. “You aren’t sleeping in here all day,” I mutter as I throw on some jeans and a Hawthorne sweatshirt.

“Go bother Reece. He’s your owner.” I set him outside my room and close the door tight.

“Where you going?” Boone asks from the couch as I grab my jacket off the hook. He’s still wearing his pledge shirt from last night. He rubs his forehead, and I’m guessing he just got home.

“Errands. Hey, I thought Kappa was doing black-out week for mid-terms, but you look rough. Are you guys still drinking every night?” It’s been two weeks since the party where Parker handcuffed Julia. I told Boone about Parker and Julia, but he claims the brothers said she went into his room willingly.

Just like she said they would. Such bullshit.

“Every night. I have to be there.” He lets out a heavy groan. “Once I get in, things will ease up.”

Right. He’s completely bought into the party-every-night lifestyle.

“Hope you know what you’re doing.”

He nods and looks away from me.

Instead of partying, I’ve been on the ice a lot. Studying. Running. Working out. I’ve met up with Julia several times. I’ve taken her to Bell Mountain, the lake, even a historic cabin on the outskirts of town.

Reece walks into the kitchen in an orange speedo and opens a kitchen cabinet and pulls out some cereal.

“Are you bringing breakfast in bed?” a female voice calls from his room.

I smirk at him and he shrugs. “I have a friend over. We may be loud.”

I give Boone a slight head nod and he blinks, then catches on and moves to the bookcase. I chat with Reece, moving in closer to him as I block his view of Boone. I ask him who he’s got in his room and how they hooked up. I must step in too close, because his eyes flare as he catches on and runs to the den to get away. His socks slip on the hardwood and he slams into the back of the couch. His feet fly over his head as he tumbles to the floor. Boone dives on top of him and puts his hand on his head.

“I pass the puck,” Boone shouts.

“Fucking socks,” Reece cries out in defeat.

“Belongs to you now,” Boone says with relish.

“Concur,” we say in unison.

Boone hands the puck to Reece and they climb to their feet.

Reece glares at me. “You were working with him? I thought we had a pact.”

I laugh. “Classic prisoner’s dilemma. I chose to turn you in and work with the jailer to save my own skin.”

I leave them and head outside, a grin on my face. I’m not sure if it is the hijinks with the boys or hanging with Julia.

When I pull up to her house, she comes out smiling, and I wonder if it’s for the photography or me. She’s wearing flared jeans with daisies on them and a cropped pink sweater. Her hair is swept up in a high ponytail, her lips full and pink.

“Hey,” I say when she slides in. She’s wearing a new perfume, something floral and light. “Where to this Sunday?”

She packs her equipment on the floor. “I was thinking about doing something different. Somewhere inside?” She gazes out at the dark clouds. “It looks like rain. I haven’t done much with indoor photography. Maybe I should start.”

“Somewhere inside. Got it.”

“You do?”

“Yep. Leave it to me.”

Shifting gears, I drive us to the perfect place.

She wrinkles her nose when we arrive. “What is this?”

“My domain.” I wink.

“An ice-skating rink?”

I scoff. “No. Hockey rink. Holy shit, you’ve never been?”

She laughs, the sound rather embarrassed. “No.”

“I’m wounded. Come on. It’ll be empty.”

She wraps her fingers around the door handle but hesitates. “Yeah, but what do I take pictures of in there?”

“I don’t know. Me?” I flex a bicep. “That is, if you can catch me with that lens of yours.”

“I don’t skate. I need to be close to a subject. Maybe the equipment? Hmmm.” Her forehead furrows.

“Or . . . if you’re more adventurous . . .”

“Skate? You want me to skate?” She shakes her head. “Nope. Big no. I had roller skates when I was seven and broke my arm.”