Mad Boys (Blue Ivy Prep, #2)(27)

“…just because we will be reorganizing current housing assignments to co-ed, this will not change our rules on fraternization or on behavior. If anything, we expect the Blue Ivy Way to be the guiding principle for your interactions. Juniors and seniors, you will also be reorganizing. All juniors currently housed in…”

The groans and the laughter came in equal measure. Co-ed dorms. It wasn’t like we had communal showers. That wasn’t the problem. Juniors were all being rehoused out of my dorm to a different one. Yeah, I didn’t care.

I wasn’t moving. But did that mean KC was moving into my dorm?

I couldn’t quite wrap my head around the concept. Curiously, I didn’t mind it at all, though. If she were in my dorm, it would be easier to—

A shout went up, dragging my attention back to the room. “Are you kidding?” one girl yelled. “You can’t force us to share even the bedrooms in the suites…”

It took a moment for what I’d missed to filter back into my brain. Instead of two to a suite, there may be as many as four. Not in all cases, but it was to accommodate the moving of just under two hundred students into a more confined set of spaces.

“The assignments,” the dean continued, raising his voice to talk over student objections, “have been made. Log in to your student portal on your phones, and you will find your new assignments. Electronic keys will be accessible via your phones for move-in purposes, then you can pick up physical keys later…”

The number of protests continued to climb, yet the dean didn’t appear swayed. Out of curiosity, I checked my phone. Room hadn’t changed, nor had the number of students assigned to it.

I glanced over at Ramsey. He hadn’t seemed to notice me. If he had anything to do with the assignments, he probably made sure no one else was in my room. I wasn’t sure whether to thank him or punch him.

I could do both, I supposed.

Eventually, the assembly was dismissed. Classes would begin on Thursday. It gave everyone present about thirty-six hours to get moved and settled. Students requiring more time would be granted it only on a case-by-case basis.

Oh, and there was a new therapist available to discuss the trauma with them. That was time for me to go. I had zero interest in hearing about anyone coming to talk to us about our feelings. I moved to the back of the hall but kept an eye on KC and her bestie. When they went out a side door, I left through the back and found a way to trail them.

Better to make sure they got to where they were going. A blond guy was waiting for them. KC actually broke from her friend to give him a hug and she smiled for real.

I had no idea who he was, until he turned. She had her phone out and was talking to Dix—that was his name—, then he motioned to where a truck waited in the circular drive.

Rather than get caught staring, I retreated back to my dorm. Yeah, I’d figure out where they got assigned later. I’d just tapped my card key when a familiar, if too scratchy, voice said, “Hey, Hot Shot, can you hold that for a sec?”

I turned to find KC striding toward me. All the words I’d considered saying earlier crumbled. So I just stared and waited.

“Thanks,” she said with a flash of a smile, before covering her mouth with the inside of her elbow as she coughed. After, phone in hand, she glanced up at the map on the inside wall.

“What room?” It came out a little breathless, but she spared me a look.

“Four fourteen.”

“That’s across the hall from me,” I told her, then motioned to the stairs. “Want me to show you?”

I was pretty sure she could find the room on her own, but I wanted to help.

“Thanks,” she croaked out again with a grimace.

“I have water, too,” I said, jerking my thumb to the stairwell.

Her smile was more of a grimace, but she didn’t say anything. How badly had her throat been hurt? Was she going to have issues performing? Concern raced like a fire consuming fuel through me. The analogy made me grimace again.

Taking the stairs here meant avoiding going by Ramsey’s suite. If Lachlan was there, I wanted to skip dealing with him. We were almost to the top when she paused and glanced down the staircases to call, “Up here.”

The sound was horrendous. “You need to stop talking,” I told her. “Or see a doctor. That sounds bad.” Why hadn’t they done more to help her?

“Thanks.” The absolute lack of irony as she gave me a bland look was almost funny.

Almost.

“There,” I told her when we got to her room. “I’ll be right back.”

Then I moved to four-eleven, my suite, across the hall from hers. Once inside, I dropped my bag then went to the kitchen. The fridge had been stocked so I pulled out two one-liter bottles of cold water and carried them back to the open door.

“This one,” KC was saying to Dix, where she stood by the open door.

“They moved everyone out fast,” he commented, and I stared at him where he stood so close to KC. He was taller than her, older too. Way too old to be looking at her the way he was. Dislike licked through me. “Okay, gorgeous, park that ass somewhere and rest. We’ll get everything up here and get you moved in.”

“I can—”

“Do nothing,” he told her firmly, then cut a look at me. He lifted his chin. “You have an admirer.”