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“Already on my list of things to do today.”

Jackson raises an eyebrow. “You think she’ll keep this on the down low?”

No, I’m not sure at all. But what other choice do I have?

“Yeah,” I lie. “She will.”

AN EMAIL FROM GERARD

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Date: October 18, 2015

Subject: Pretty Please with Sugar on Top!

Hey, Ice Queen!

It’s Gerard. I read your latest post about the mystery man, and I know you’re curious about who the guy is, but could you maybe hold off on finding out? He’s a good friend of mine, and he’s going through some things right now.

I promise to give you the full scoop once everything settles down. You know I’m always happy to help you out, but I want to make sure Elliot is in a better headspace before anything goes public.

Thanks for understanding. You’re the best!

-Gerard

19

ELLIOT

“You want me towhat?”

“Move in with me.”

My cackle would make the Wicked Witch of the West proud. For a second there, I thought Gerard asked me to move in with him. But that would be insane because there’s no way I’m moving into a house full of hockey players. “And pray tell, why in the world would I do that?”

“Because you can’t keep living in the library, Elliot,” Gerard squawks. “It’s not humane. You should be in a dorm room, tucked warmly in a bed and surrounded by otherpeople—not books!”

“What don’t you get, Gerard? I. Can’t. Afford. A dorm.”

“I. Know!” He shoots to his feet and starts pacing back and forth.

We’re in the middle of the quad. Everyone is staring at us, and it’s putting me on edge. This is why I never should have let Gerard into my life.Heis always the center of attention, and now, I’ve been dragged into his orbit for everyone to gawk at.

Gerard stops pacing and plants his hands on his hips. The pose makes his broad shoulders appear even wider, stretching the fabric of his T-shirt. His eyes are fixed on somepoint in the distance as he mutters to himself. I take the opportunity to study him while he’s momentarily preoccupied.

The sunlight turns his golden hair into a shimmering halo, and the irony isn’t lost on me—Gerard, appearing like an angel, offering me salvation. I know I should take it because, as much as I hate to admit it, the boy is right. I shouldn’t be sleeping in a library.

“The guys will love you, Elliot. They’re not the meatheads you think they are,” Gerard insists, staring down at me.

I snort. “Right. A bunch of jocks are going to welcome a nerdy librarian with open arms. I’m sure we’ll be braiding each other’s hair in no time.”

“You’re not giving them enough credit. Or me, for that matter. I wouldn’t ask you to move in if I didn’t think it would work out. Or if I thought you’d be unsafe.”

I chew on my bottom lip and weigh my options. On the one hand, living in the library hasn’t exactly been a picnic. The floor isn’t the most comfortable. Having to sneak into the gym showers every day is liable to give me a heart attack. And I’m pretty sure I’m developing a permanent crick in my neck from using an encyclopedia as a pillow.

But on the other hand, moving into a house full of rowdy, boisterous hockey players will be a nightmare for an introvert like me. I can picture it now—constant noise, no privacy, and the lingering stench of sweat. Plus, there’s the small matter of my massive crush—something else I hate to admit—on Gerard. Living under the same roof as him and seeing him every day? It’s a recipe for disaster.