Fallen Crest University (Fallen Crest High #5)(20)

I flipped on the light and stepped under the water. Mason was dressed and sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for me when I came back out. My eyes narrowed, but as he looked me up and down, a slow grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, and I started to forget the small hope I’d had of him joining me. Raking a hand through his hair, I tugged his head to look up and into my eyes.

His hands rested on my hips, and he pulled me to stand between his legs.

I said fiercely, “I will be okay.” I paused and then asked, “Okay?”

His hands tightened once before relaxing. “I know you will be.”

Logan was in the living room when we passed, heading for the vehicle. He grinned and waved his fingers to us. “Toodles, lovers. Don’t screw in the parking lot. I heard they ramped up their security guard detail.” His gaze shifted to Mason. “Something about a fight by the campus bookstore.”

“Really?” I frowned. “I hadn’t heard anything. My RA would’ve said something—well, I think she would’ve anyway.”

He went back to the football game on the television and shrugged. “Hmm. Yeah, well, maybe she’s not in the know, like I am.”

“Logan.” A low warning came from Mason.

Ignoring him, Logan raised a hand in the air again. “Tell your roommate she’s hot, Sam. I’ll be stopping by for morning coffee and crumpets.”

“Toodles and now crumpets.” I rolled my eyes, following Mason out the door. Bypassing him as he stopped to hold the door for me, I said, “Your brother needs to stop watching the BBC network.”

Logan shouted from inside, “I heard that, and never, woman. BBC holds my heart like no vixen ever shall.”

I groaned.

Mason grinned and let go of the door so it could swing shut. “He’s hyped up for a good fight. He was bored last year in Fallen Crest when all the action was here. He’s been in a Monty Python phase lately. Don’t get him going on the burning of witches.”

I glanced up at him as he said that, rounding the car for the driver’s seat. I tried to judge if there was an undertone or hidden meaning in his statement, but as Mason got into the car and started the engine, he didn’t seem to hold on to anything. His shoulders were relaxed. He grinned at me and reached over to grab my hand when I got inside. He held my hand the entire drive back.

The tension from in the bedroom seemed to have lifted off his shoulders—at least for now—but I knew some of that was because Logan was here.

We were all here.

The house that loomed in front of us was large and in charge.

Music pounded from it. The lights were bright through the windows¸ spilling out onto the backyard. And people were everywhere. I glanced around the group of girls who opted to skip the movie night for this house party, and most looked scared. A couple were already drunk while my roommate was busy checking her phone. She had a bored expression on her face. I frowned, unsure of how to take that, but I understood the nerves from the rest. This was their first college party. To be honest, I was a little unnerved, but I thought it was more because I hadn’t told Mason I was going to this party. He thought I was safe and sound, sitting all cozied up with a bowl of popcorn, a blanket, and maybe even a wine cooler.

That was the plan until the movie reserved by the resident advisor sucked. After thirty minutes of most people spending time on their phones or taking restroom breaks, she let us go and threw in an invite to a party she’d heard about. It was her way of making up for the suck-ass movie. We were given directions and a few guidelines on what kind of guys to stay away from, and then she gave us the green light along with a request to save the puking for outside and not in the floor’s restrooms.

That led to a group of nine of us trekking across campus and down one block.

“So…” Summer cleared her throat, putting her phone in her pocket. “What do you say, ladies? Are we going to tackle this bitch or stare at it all night?”

Another girl, a little heavyset with red hair, smacked herself in the chest. She nodded firmly and declared, “Hell yes, we are.” She paused before adding, “Tackle this bitch, I mean. Not just stare at it all night. I, for one, want to meet a man, and that ain’t happening if I hang out with only you ladies this year.”

Summer thrust her fist in the air. “That’s the whoring spirit we want.”

I grinned.

The red-haired girl nodded again to us. “That’s what I have. Not a whore, but I have spirit. I have the drinking spirit tonight.”

Another girl, shorter than the rest with striking, blue eyes and white hair, piped up, “We need to buddy up. Sexual assaults happen at parties like these, so we need to check on each other.”

Summer grabbed my hand, holding it in the air. “My roommate’s mine.”

As they found their buddies, their hands joining ours in the air, Summer leaned closer to me. “I’m glad you came. You looked unsure about it before.”

I shrugged. “My boyfriend has enemies on campus. He worries.”

“Stay close to me. My mom worried about the same thing, so she made me take self-defense classes. You know,” her cheeks flushed as she lowered her voice, “because I’m a model.”

I glanced around, but the others hadn’t heard. “I know how to fight a tiny bit, but don’t be embarrassed about that. I get it. I really do.”