Page 5

Avalon

Sitting on Nash’s couch while he dug in the fridge for a couple bottles of water, I opened the mail program on my laptop and devoured Parrish’s email. Again.

Beautiful . He’d called me beautiful. Me? I found it hard to believe. But…how many other girls could he have tackled today?

And I was missing my phone. Until he’d written, I hadn’t realized I’d lost it. I’d dug around in my backpack, sure he couldn’t have it. No dice. It was gone. Crap.

That meant Parrish had it. I’d have to find a way to meet up with him, because I sure couldn’t afford to replace my cell.

But it also meant he’d called me beautiful.

Me.

Mind. Blown.

— . — . —

From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Date: March 18, 2025 Subject: RE: Do You Know

P,

I’ve met a girl named Avalon once or twice, though I’m not sure we’re talking about the same woman.

You might want to try being at the same place at the same time tomorrow.

A lot of us are creatures of habit. Maybe, you ran into her near the lot where she parks, so that was her normal path through campus.

A

— . — . —

Which was a whole lot of crap. Yes, we all had habits, but schedules changed day to day. Mine did. Still, I could definitely make sure to be in that same place tomorrow afternoon. Just so I could get back my cell phone, of course.

“That doesn’t look like you’re figuring out the statistics problem,” Nash said, coming back with a water.

“Thought we were taking a break to eat,” I countered, quickly shutting down my email, and in my haste, almost knocking over the water he’d just set beside me. With lightning fast reflexes, he rescued it before it splashed all over his books.

“Sorry,” I muttered.

“Hey, what’s a night without some mishap?”

“Ugh…I hate that I’m such a klutz,” I groaned.

He sank down beside me and knocked his shoulder into mine. “I love that about you. So…?”

“So…what?” I asked.

“Were you writing him?” Nash asked, nodding toward the laptop I’d just pushed aside. His lips quirked up on one side, telling me he already knew the answer.

“Um, well—” I tipped my head, giving a half shrug.

I wasn’t inviting Nash into this situation again. It was fine when Parrish and I were just writing one another, but now, after we’d collided, literally… Well, I just didn’t know that I wanted to share the details.

“I need to figure out Sheena and the whole apartment situation,” I said, diverting the topic. “She was being a complete bitch this morning, threatening to kick me out again.”

“Why?”

“Honestly…” I huffed out a frustrated breath. “She’s psycho? I don’t know. Today, she accused me of eating the last of her strawberries.”

“She does know you’re allergic to them, right?” Nash asked, his eyebrow raised, his expression clearly judging my roommate. Best bestie ever.

“I’ve told her. Whether or not she’s processed that… Who knows? I’m just trying to get through the next month and a half until graduation, then I’m getting the fuck out of her life.”

“You could stay here,” he offered. “You know you can couch surf here for the rest of the semester. Porter wouldn’t care.”

“If she keeps it up, I might have to take you up on that. Out of necessity rather than preference. She’s gotten more and more unpredictable, since she broke up with her last boyfriend. Who knows if that’s even the reason—”

I stopped as Nash’s roommate, Porter, strolled into the living room from his bedroom.

Once he appeared, it didn’t matter what I was saying anyway.

Nash’s attention zeroed in on him, and he tracked his roommate’s path from his bedroom to the pizza boxes on the counter.

Since I’d known I’d be spending most of the evening here, I’d purposely brought a couple in case Porter was home, after all.

“Help yourself,” I called when he opened and closed both boxes to see what I’d brought.

“You guys haven’t even eaten any yet,” he said, grabbing paper plates from one of the cupboards.

“We’re about to,” Nash told him.

“One of the guys from the team is coming over in a few minutes. I should probably call Just Pizza and order a couple more.”

Before he could pull out his phone or we could say anything, a knock rapped on the door.

“Huh, speak of the devil,” Porter chuckled as he went to answer. A few moments later, he was back with Parrish on his heels. I couldn’t believe it. I came to Nash’s place a couple times a week and I’d never run into Parrish, but today of all days…

I ran my hand over my hair, hoping my braid wasn’t ragged with escaping tendrils.

Parrish’s eyes immediately lit on me, and I dropped my arm, curling my fists in the hem of my oversize sweatshirt. I started to shrink down then realized it was too late. He’d already seen me.

“Avalon,” he exclaimed, staring at me until he shook his head as if coming back to himself. He pointed at me. “Hey! I have your phone.”

“You do?” I asked, pretending surprise. I had a bet to win, and telling him I was his pen pal wouldn’t do.

Wishing I was more graceful, I clumsily unfolded from behind the coffee table where Nash and I had studied, and stood to face Parrish.

I smoothed down my Rustin Loggerheads sweatshirt and forced myself not to knot my hands in the fabric again.

“Yeah,” he answered. “But I don’t have it with me. Maybe when you’re done here, we can go get it.”

“She’s done,” Nash cut in, and I swung my attention toward him, staring at him wide-eyed while silently screaming, What the fuck, Nash?

“Nash!” I protested.

“What?” he said, all innocence. “You finished your assignment, and we weren’t making more progress on the other work. You don’t have the stats class again ‘til next week, so we can pick up on it tomorrow.” His eyes flicked over to Parrish then back to me. “Or when you’re free again.”

He smirked, knowing damn well, I wouldn’t make a scene. The glare I shot at him promised I’d deal with him later. I glanced back to the other two men. “Aren’t you two going to hang out?”

“Nah, Parrish was just picking up a book he needs.” Porter looked over at Parrish. “Give me a sec, and I’ll grab that. Then you can take Avalon to get her phone.”

Planning Nash’s murder, I gathered my books and laptop while Porter left the room. Maybe it was just me, but tension seemed to zing around the room like rogue ping-pong balls in a wind tunnel. Goosebumps lifted on my skin as Parrish studied me, my awareness of his proximity making my body tingle.

“Traitor,” I muttered at Nash while I bent near, stuffing my things into my backpack.

“You love me,” he laughed.

“Right now, that’s up for debate,” I growled.

He made a kissy noise at me. “Text me later? Once you have your phone back and all? You’re welcome.”

Parrish’s eyes narrowed on us as I straightened. His jaw clenched, his gaze flicking between Nash and me.

“What?” I asked. Didn’t he want to take me with him? “We don’t need to go get my phone. We can meet up tomorrow. You don’t have to—“

“Here’s that book,” Porter interrupted as he returned. He handed over a spiral-bound book with a depiction of a hockey game on the cover. “You can keep it. I have a spare.”

Parrish nodded then looked over at me, his gaze bouncing between Nash and me again. “Ready?”

“Yeah. Sure,” I agreed, grabbing my heavy backpack off the table. Parrish took it from me before I could sling it over my shoulder. After quick goodbyes, I followed him outside to the hallway then downstairs to the sidewalk.

My stomach growled as I walked, reminding me I hadn’t eaten any of the pizza I’d brought to Nash’s place. And since that was my meal money I’d budgeted for today, I’d have to make do with a granola bar later. I suppressed a sigh. A granola bar and crazy Sheena. Not the night I’d planned.

“My car’s the blue one over there,” he said, indicating to an older-model crossover parked four spaces from the door, beneath one of the lot lights.

“You drove?”

He shrugged. “I don’t live close, and it’s too cold to walk tonight. I take it you didn’t drive over.”

I shook my head. “Don’t have a car. I either walk or Uber everywhere. Mostly, I walk since I live near campus. Nash was going to drive me home tonight, though.”

“He your boyfriend?” Parrish asked, opening the passenger door for me. As if we were on a date…

It’s not a date. Get a grip, Av.

“Nash?” I laughed. “No. We’re just friends. He’s my best friend.”

Parrish nodded, his expression relaxing. Was that why he’d glared at Nash? He’d been worried about that?

Silently, he put my backpack on the backseat then circled to the driver’s seat.

“So…he’ll kick my ass if I’m not a gentleman?” he said, starting the car and pulling from the parking space. Warm air blew from the vents, a welcome perk on this chilly night. Nash’s car wouldn’t even have warmed up by the time we got to my place.

“You’d be lucky if that’s what he did,” I laughed. “More likely, he’d hack into your accounts and screw up your life.”

“I consider myself warned.”

We fell silent, and my stomach growled, the sound cutting through the quiet. Heat crawled up my neck in a prickle.

“I haven’t eaten dinner,” he announced. “Can I take you to grab a bite? On me, since I dragged you away from Porter and Nash’s before you had any pizza.”

Considering I’d spent my budgeted dinner money on the pizza back at Nash’s, then hadn’t eaten any of it, I’d be a fool to say no. “Sure?”

He grinned. “Great. I live off campus in the other direction, and there’s a diner I like, halfway between here and there.”

“Great,” I echoed, an entirely different sensation overtaking any hunger pangs as butterflies took off in my middle.

After all these months of anonymous conversations, I was having a date with Parrish.

Sort of. I’d take what I could get, though.

One evening with Parrish? Maybe, it would extinguish my crush on him. Somehow, though, I doubted it.