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CHAPTER EIGHT

GARY

Easton had gone quiet, and he was staring at me. It always made me flush whenever he did that. I was going to ask him if he changed his mind and wanted his sweater back, but he cleared his throat and looked away, jerking his chin at a bench underneath a light.

I followed his direction, stuffing my hands in the pocket of the hoodie.

It was so warm. No wonder he wore it all the time.

Probably made me look like a little kid because it was huge on me, but I couldn’t bring myself to care.

It smelled like him. I had to seriously fight the urge to bury my nose in the fabric.

It’d basically scream I was into him if I did, and I wasn’t even sure if he liked men. He was impossible to read.

Sitting on the bench, I drew my legs up into the hoodie and snuggled in. The next time I could afford to buy new clothes, I was going to buy a hoodie that was too big. This was way too comfortable.

The silence was heavy, and I caught Easton staring at me a few times. Or maybe he just never stopped. I glanced at him and away, my face flushing, and every time I looked back over, he was watching me. Desperate to ease the tension a little, I asked, “Didn’t you say you were busy most weekends?”

He grunted, stretching his legs out in front of him, his hands shoved into his pockets. He made cool look easy. “Saturday and Sunday I’m busy. Besides, my friends pointed out I was a huge dick to you on Monday. I called because I wanted to apologize.”

“Oh. It’s okay. You don’t need to–”

He flashed me a look that said he wasn’t interested in hearing me argue before continuing.

“I’ve always been short-tempered. I should’ve been nicer. I’m sorry.”

I honestly couldn’t remember a time when someone apologized for upsetting me.

Yeah, I’d been a little hurt when he growled at me like that, and I tried to give him space since I pissed him off, but I didn’t think he’d noticed.

He spent most of the classes we shared with each other glaring at his phone.

The animosity only grew over the next few classes we had together, so I figured I’d ruined any chance at being friends with him and decided to let it go.

We’d get through the group assignment and I’d leave him be.

I didn’t think he’d show up to apologize.

“I…” I didn’t know what to say. What do you say to someone who apologized to you?

“I finished the project. I’ll email it to you on Monday so you can check it before we hand it in.”

My mouth fell open in surprise. “That fast?”

He raised an eyebrow at me. “You finished half of it in a weekend.”

I made a face, wrinkling my nose. Okay, technically I did. But also, no. Because it was just an outline. A detailed one, sure, but he was making it out to be a bigger deal than it was.

A small amount of disappointment settled in my chest when I realized that because we were both quick to finish assignments, I no longer had an excuse to spend time with him. I barely got a day and a half. I regretted being over-prepared now.

“You’re thinking really hard,” he commented after a few minutes of silence. He followed up by poking my temple, nearly knocking me over because I was scrunched inside the hoodie. I fixed myself with a snicker and shrugged.

“I’m not the brightest crayon in the box. Sometimes thinking takes time for me.”

He snorted in disbelief. “Your notes say different.”

“Organized and smart are two different things,” I pointed out.

“So are stubborn and delusional,” he shot back with a growl. For a minute, I worried I pissed him off again, but then he smirked at me and shook his head. “What would you have been doing tonight if your roommate hadn’t suckered you into watching a horror movie?”

“He didn’t sucker me! He asked nicely. And I don’t know. Probably study. Wh–”

I was about to ask why before I saw the smug ‘I told you so’ look on his face. I did study a lot, but that didn’t make me smart. It made me careful. I didn't want to slack off and lose my scholarships. I was already going to graduate up to my ears in debt. I didn’t need to add more.

“Shut up,” I grouched, though there was a smile tugging at my lips.

He was easier to talk to once we got away from sensitive topics.

I found out he liked MMA and his ‘job’ was taking part in fights for money.

That explained the bruise. We both liked Marvel movies, and he’d read a few of my favorite books.

He said he didn’t love reading, not like I did, but he’d pick up a book on a long plane ride or road trip.

We stayed out there chatting until my constant yawning got hard to ignore. It wasn’t that late, close to eleven, but I had to wake up early for my shift most days, so I didn’t stay up like most college kids.

“You’re tired. Think your roommate’s movie is done yet?”

I made a face. “Unlikely. It’s a three movie marathon.

Apparently because me and one of his other friends hadn’t seen some of the more popular ones, they wanted to watch them all.

” And because I was a pushover, I didn’t complain about them keeping me up all night having the marathon in our room.

No way could I sleep with that creepy music and screaming in the background. I’d have nightmares, for sure.

Easton made an irritated noise and pushed to his feet. “Come on. It’s your room too, and you need sleep.”

I didn’t want him to be stuck sitting with me all night, so I went with him, but I still argued about it. “I’m really fine. I’m probably too old to be afraid of those movies anyway.”

He gave a pointed look at the scanner to let us into the building and dragged me with a grip on the hoodie sleeve over to the elevator.

For a minute, my mind protested, the guy who cornered me at work lived in the building, too.

I seriously didn’t want to get trapped in an elevator with him.

But it was empty when the doors slid open, and with Easton there, I felt safe enough to ride to the fifth floor.

I was expecting to say goodbye to him at the door, so when he pushed into the room and kicked off his shoes, my eyebrows shot up.

Carter barely glanced at us, his and everyone else’s eyes glued to the screen where some creepy woman with long black hair was crawling out of a tv screen.

I shuddered, nearly tripping over myself when Easton nudged me.

“Which bed is yours?”

“Um, top bunk. Wait, why?”

I had no idea where he was going with his line of questioning, and he didn’t seem inclined to answer me.

He waited for me to toe off my shoes and gave me a significant look until I climbed the ladder into my bed.

When he came with me, I thought my jaw would hit the floor, it was hanging open so wide.

He nudged and prodded me until I was laying down beside him before fishing some headphones out of his pocket.

He handed me one and stuck the other in his ear, and a minute later, unfamiliar rock music distracted me from the noise of the tv.

At least until the group of guys on the futon all shouted.

I flinched, and my hair on the back of my neck stood up when I tuned back into the creepy music in the background. It was distracting, and I couldn’t enjoy Easton’s music when I knew something terrifying was about to happen on that screen.

Easton made an irritated noise again, and without asking me first, he dragged me against him and settled my head on his chest. The sound of his heartbeat blocked out the creepy music, leaving only the steady thump and slow rock behind.

And against all odds, I fell asleep, and only dreamed of Easton.

I woke up alone to my alarm the next morning.

Easton was gone and the only real trace that he’d been here was the hoodie I’d fallen asleep in.

I gave into the urge to press my face into it, taking a deep breath.

He didn’t douse himself in body spray like Carter and his friends.

A hint of something woody, but mostly just Easton.

I had it so bad for this guy, it wasn’t even funny.

I climbed out of bed, ignoring the two guys on the couch who obviously hadn’t bothered to go home the night before.

They were passed out shoulder to shoulder, like they’d fallen asleep during the movie.

Who the heck falls asleep during a horror movie?

An unfamiliar piece of paper on my desk caught my attention. It was a note from Easton. I smirked when I read it.

You snore.

P.S. Your roommate looked like he wanted to cry during the last movie. You’re not the only one who gets scared. See you Monday.

I bit back a laugh and tucked the note carefully into my desk. Yes, I planned on keeping it. Yes, I realized it was a little weird. No, I don’t want to talk about it.