Page 14 of Prince Material (The Prince Pact #2)
I held my breath, waiting for his response, aware of Ashley’s knowing look beside me.
Orson
Can’t. Still working. But thanks for the updates.
My fingers hovered over the keyboard. I wanted to push, to tell him the problem set would still be there tomorrow, that he deserved a break. But I remembered how he’d tensed when I’d suggested the same thing earlier.
Me
No problem. Good luck with the studying.
I slipped my phone back in my pocket, ignoring Ashley’s raised eyebrow .
“That was him, I assume? You lit up like a Christmas tree when he texted. Maybe he’s not as uninterested as you think.”
I snorted. “Trust me, he’s made it very clear that even friendship would be a distraction from his goals.”
“Could be he needs a good distraction.”
I wasn’t counting on it.
When the game ended—the Eagles had somehow, by sheer luck, managed to get one touchdown in—Brett leaned over to me. “Wanna come hang out in my dorm? It’s our post-game tradition.”
“Sounds good.”
Anything to not have to face Orson yet. Not before I had myself in check again.
Brett’s dorm room was packed with people, music competing with excited chatter as everyone relived the game’s most spectacular failures.
Someone had strung up cheap LED lights that cast everything in a blue glow, making it feel almost like a club.
If clubs smelled like pizza and had motivational posters on the walls.
“So what’s the verdict?” Brett handed me a Coke. “American football: yay or nay?”
“The game itself? Confusing. The atmosphere?” I grinned. “Pretty amazing, actually. Though I still don’t understand why you call it football.”
“Because ‘organized chaos with occasional running’ doesn’t roll off the tongue as well.”
I laughed, settling onto the floor since every other surface was occupied. The carpet was questionable at best, but I’d survived worse. Probably. “Fair enough. Though I have to ask—why support a team that consistently loses?”
“Character building.” Brett dropped down beside me. “Plus, imagine how epic it’ll be when we finally win something important. The parties will be legendary.”
“Optimistic of you.”
“Hey, my mom always says hope springs eternal.” Brett grinned. “Though in the Eagles’ case, hope mostly springs into fumbles and missed passes.”
I laughed, but my phone buzzing in my pocket distracted me. Another text from Orson.
Orson
Made good progress. Going to bed soon. Don’t wake me when you come in?
Something fluttered inside my belly at the fact that he’d thought to tell me.
Me
I’ll be ninja-quiet. Promise.
Ninja-quiet was what I had in mind when I finally made it back to my room around two in the morning. The party had proven to be more fun than I had expected, and I felt like I’d made some new friends. And best of all, it had kept my mind off Orson. Mostly.
I opened the door to our room quietly. Orson had put some WD-40 on the hinges the other day, so it had stopped squeaking. The only sounds now were Orson’s soft snores, and they made me smile.
I probably should take off my shoes first so my footsteps would be quiet, and so I toed them off, gently pushing them aside.
Brushing my teeth would have to be skipped.
I didn’t want to head to the bathroom and back for that.
That was sure to wake Orson up. Instead, I quietly undressed.
Surely in this case, Orson would forgive me for throwing my clothes on my desk chair.
It wasn’t like I could see enough to put them anywhere else.
Dressed in just my boxer briefs, I tiptoed toward my bed… only to trip over my shoes, stumbling forward with all the grace of a drunk giraffe. I crashed right into Orson’s bed, all but falling on top of him.
“Wha—?” Orson bolted, his hair a wild mess and his eyes wide behind his glasses. Wait, why was he wearing his glasses in bed?
“Shit, sorry!” I whispered, though whispering seemed pointless now. “I was trying not to wake you.”
“Wasn’t sleeping,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “Was waiting.”
I pushed myself on one elbow, our faces only inches apart. I could just see enough with a glimpse of moonlight peeking in from between the curtains. “Waiting? For what?”
“You.” He blinked owlishly at me. “Wanted to make sure you got back okay. It got so late, and…”
Warmth filled me. “You were worried about me?”
“No.” He adjusted his glasses, a sure tell that he was lying. “Just… Campus isn’t always safe at night, and you’re never back this late. Wanted to make sure you hadn’t gotten yourself into trouble.”
“Right.” I couldn’t help smiling. “So you stayed up wearing your glasses in bed because you weren’t worried at all.”
He scowled, but there was no heat in it. “Shut up. I was reading.”
“Of course you were.” I straightened up, immediately missing his warmth. “Well, I’m back safe and sound. No need to worry—I mean, no need to not worry anymore.”
Even in the dim light, I could see his cheeks flush. “Whatever. Just… go to bed.”
But as I reluctantly removed myself from his bed and climbed into my own, I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. He’d waited up for me. Maybe I wasn’t the only one feeling this… whatever this was.
Though that thought was probably more dangerous than any late-night campus walk could ever be.