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Charlie takes ahold of his arm as he starts to walk out. “Case, wait. Where are you going? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, everything is fine. I just have to go get something for Noelle. I’ll be back later, I promise. Want to watchGame of Thronesor something?” he asks.

“Uh, yeah, I guess. I’m pretty tired though, so it depends on when you get back.”

“Heard,” he says, then nods at me. “Becks, take care of our girl. Be back later.” He taps the doorframe with his palm as he walks out of my room.

I know I won’t change his mind about leaving since it’s Noelle, but, shit, this is going to be awkward as fuck. But again, I’m not mad about it. I just need her to warm up to the idea of hanging out with me without wanting to kill me.

CHAPTERFIVE

CHARLIE

The four of us—me,Beck, Archie, and Liam—watch as Casey leaves. I’m kind of wondering if I should go follow him out and offer to go with him. Noelle and I have always been friendly, but I’m not close with her like Casey is. I know something happened to her last year, yet I’m not sure what. She started dating some baseball player, and Casey was pissed about it. Beck may know more, but I’m not going to ask him. If Casey wants to tell me more, he will.

“All right, kids, I have business to attend to this evenin’, so I’ll see y’all tomorrow. Pitz, you coming with or you stayin’ home tonight?” Archie asks.

“I’ve got a little something of my own going on tonight, but I might see you out. You going to The Point?” he asks.

“You know it. The ladies are waiting. I’ll see you losers later,” Archie says with a salute as he walks out.

“Charlie, Linson, I’m out. Oh, but, hey, can you grab me some chocolate milk at the store? It’s my cheat treat,” Pitz says.

“Only if you promise not to drink directly from the carton,” I say.

“Scout’s honor,” he says while holding two fingers over his heart and winks at me, then turns and walks out, which makes me giggle.

I’m not a giggling type of girl, but Pitz is a cutie with his dimples and all-American guy looks. He can make any girl—and maybe a few guys—swoon with his charm. Not that I would ever act on it. He’s truly just a friend. A hot one.

Beck clears his throat, and I spot him sitting on the edge of his king-size bed. I can’t read the look on his face. I think we’re both feeling awkward, and, well, I’m not really sure what to say to him.

I can’t remember the last time we were alone together. Probably the end of August, going into our senior year. I remember the pleading look on his face. His hair fell over his red-rimmed eyes, and his hands were on his hips as I turned my back on him and walked upstairs to my room.

The thought makes my eyes water, so I turn toward the closet and say, “Did you see where they set the box with my bathroom stuff? I just want to get that out now so I can shower when we get back from the store.”

“Uh, yeah. I think Archie put it on the top shelf on the left side of the closet. Do you want me to grab it for you? Is it heavy?”

“Nope. I can get it. I don’t think it’s that heavy. My towels and my hair stuff are in there. I’ll grab my toothbrush out of my duffel too. I feel like I need to refresh a little after being in the car all day, dealing with the room drama, and moving. I’ll be out in a few,” I say while walking into the closet.

When I come out, Beck is gone, so I move to the bathroom with my box and place it on the floor, next to the second sink that looks unused. Then I go back out to the bedroom and grab my duffel bag, where I left it near the door to the room.

While I walk to the bathroom, my eyes roam the room. It’s so typical Beckham. He’s always been a neat freak, so his schematically Star Wars–themed bed, which is fitting for his engineering major, is tightly made, even after he sat on it. On the wall, there are only a few things. One calendar and a whiteboard with football plays on it. Knowing him, I’m sure he wrote out the plays as he memorized the playbook. He also has a small desk with a chair and a tall dresser. It looks like there are drawers that pull out from under the bed, providing additional storage.

But what has me slightly concerned is, where am I going to put this damn cot?

Twenty minutes later, I’m sitting in the desk chair after I brushed my teeth, washed my face, and brushed my hair, and I text Aunt Lindsay to see when she’ll be here with the cot. It’s been nearly two hours since we left the sorority house. She tells me she’s waiting for Andy to come home, which could be a while. So, it should give me time to run to the store and get a few things.

“You ready to go?”

I spin in the chair to see Beck standing in the doorway. His arms grab hold of the doorframe at the top, making his arm muscles pop and exposing a hint of his abs and that stupid V that hot guys have. Oh, and he threw on a hat. Backward. It’s like he’s intentionally trying to destroy me.

“When did you change?”

Jesus, Charlie. What a stupid question. But he literally has me stupefied right now with all the skin he has showing.

“I, uh, changed my shirt real quick while you were in the bathroom. I guess we should make some kind of schedule or something for bathroom time and changing and stuff,” he says lowly.

I stare at him while he stands there with his unassuming good looks. A lot can change on a guy in a year, and he has certainly matured physically—in the best way possible. Where he was once lean, he’s now filled out with all sinewy muscles. I wonder if he still likes it when he gets his back scratched or if he’s still ticklish when fingers run along the sides of his torso.