Page 4 of Stay (Stay #1)

CASSIDY

A low groan rumbles its way from deep within the mountain of pillows and blankets.

“I don’t feel good,” the voice croaks. “I think I have the flu.”

I snort with about as much derision as I can muster. “What you technically have is called the twenty-four-hour booze flu,” I singsong gleefully before yanking open the thick, ugly blue curtains covering our dorm room window and allowing bright sunlight to filter in.

It’s impossible to summon one ounce of pity for someone who knowingly inflicts this kind of pain onto themselves.

Brooklyn whimpers before attempting to burrow further into the abyss of blankets and pillows piled high on her dorm-issued twin bed.

“Come on, up and at ’em, sunshine. You’ve got class in forty.” I pretend to wince as I add with false pity, “Oh, and don’t you have Calculus this bright and fine Friday morning with Professor Ling? Yeah…that’s going to suck for you.”

“No,” she moans. “No class. Can’t go. Not today. Too sick. Head pounding. Might throw up. Must sleep.”

“Didn’t you tell me that your partying wouldn’t get in the way of attending classes? I made you promise before agreeing to live together.”

And yes, I really had secured a verbal agreement from my bestie regarding this kind of situation.

After last year, I’m not interested in partying.

My sole objective is my classes. But moving in with Brooklyn, who I’ve known forever, seemed like a far better choice than playing Russian roulette with a random roommate assignment.

“No,” she mumbles before smashing another pillow over her face, “I never promised any such thing.”

“Sure, you did. I’ve got it in writing somewhere around here.” I move loudly around the room, preparing for my nine o’clock class. Grabbing a protein bar, I open the wrapper and take a big, crunchy bite.

“Bitch,” she mutters from under the covers.

Well, I think that’s what she mutters.

I grin at the mound of pillows and blankets. “But I’m a lovable bitch, right?”

Most of the time.

Probably…

She grumbles something unintelligible I can’t quite decipher. I’m not sure if she agrees or disagrees with that statement. But since she’s experiencing a killer hangover, I’m going to guess she’s in disagreement.

“You’re down to thirty minutes now. Tick tock, tick tock.” I set a glass of water and two acetaminophen tablets on the table beside her bed. “Take the pills and guzzle the water. It’ll help.” Honestly, it can’t hurt at this point.

The only good thing I have to say about Brooklyn this morning is that the girl can definitely hold her liquor. I thought for sure when I’d texted last night to meet me outside the house, and then carried her drunk ass home, she would be puking all over the place.

Much to my pleasant surprise, that hadn’t turned out to be the case. Nor had she died of alcohol poisoning either.

So, win-win in my book .

She ignores me and mutters, “I think you’d be a much happier person if you got laid once in a while. Just something to consider.”

“I’m already a perfectly happy person.” My sunny disposition nosedives at the suggestion.

I tried that trick last year…it hadn’t worked out so well.

After ten more minutes of cajoling Brooklyn from bed, she reluctantly pulls the pillows and blankets off her face before blinking at the harsh sunlight pouring in through the large bank of east-facing windows.

She covers her eyes with a hand as if the bright light might scorch her retinas.

“You’re a horrible person for forcing me to get up when I feel like such crap. ”

My gaze slides over the little bit of her I can see. Her long blonde hair is in total disarray and her skin is waxy looking. Actually, she looks a little green around the gills.

“If it’s any consolation, you look just as bad as you feel.”

“Bitch,” she grumbles.

Unaffected by her new pet name for me, I shrug. “Alright then, I’m off.” I wrap a turquoise scarf around my neck before grabbing my oversized messenger bag and sunglasses as I head out. “See you later, alligator.”

Just as I’m about to close the door, I whip it open and poke my head back inside.

“Get your lazy ass out of bed right now,” I bellow at the top of my lungs.

In answer, she hurtles one of her hot pink pillows at the door. It falls pathetically short of its mark. I shake my head at such an embarrassingly sad attempt.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have really shitty aim?” A future softball competitor, she is not. It’s doubtful she’d even do well in an over forty beer league.

Her second attempt almost hits its intended target. “Better.”

I smile as one of her hands snakes out from the thick pile of blankets to flip me off.

With a snicker, I shut the door before hustling my way across campus for my nine o’clock class which—thanks to Brooklyn—I’m running late for.

I try to multitask on the fly as I read a text sent by one of my professors.

Even though this bad habit is always ill-advised when trying to maneuver through a herd of students who are also attempting to haul ass across campus, I do it anyway.

I certainly can’t deny my own stupidity as I smack into a wall. With a grunt, I stagger back a few steps before strong arms reach out to steady me.

To the best of my knowledge, walls don’t have arms.

It only takes a moment for my belly to hollow out because I think I recognize that muscular chest.

Crap.

Could life seriously be cruel enough to throw this guy into my oblivious path within twelve short hours of our previous meeting?

The answer to that question is a resounding yes .

My gaze arrows to his smiling, golden-brown eyes. A slight wind ruffles his gorgeous hair as we stand in the middle of the cement walking path that snakes its way through campus.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” I mutter, feeling off kilter.

One of his dark brows lifts at my disgruntled greeting. “Let me guess,” he says, “now you think I’m stalking you.”

My eyes widen before narrowing in consideration.

Hmmm. I suppose that’s a possibility.

“Are you?”

He snorts before shaking his head. He shifts his weight, looking as if he might be settling in for a long conversation. “I don’t even know your name, remember? You wouldn’t give it to me last night.”

“It’s a good thing I didn’t, because apparently, there’s an excellent chance you might be stalking me,” I quip while trying to think of a hasty exit strategy.

He runs his tongue across the front of his teeth.

I feel the effect of it straight down to my traitorous core.

Somehow, this guy has triggered more responses within me in the past twelve hours than any other guy has in the previous nine months.

“I’m not saying this to sound like a conceited jack?— ”

“But that’s exactly what you’ll sound like if you continue with that train of thought,” I finish sweetly, hoping to cut him off so I can bale on this conversation.

“—ass, but most girls would be delighted to have my attention.”

My gaze slides reluctantly over him again.

All right, I’ll secretly admit that statement is probably accurate. With all that messy dark hair, golden-brown eyes, and handsomely chiseled face…

And let’s not forgot about his muscular body. I’m willing to bet there’s a six-pack hidden under that grey Henley.

My mouth dries at the thought.

What the hell am I doing?

I give myself a quick mental slap before rolling my eyes. “You’re right, that totally makes you sound like a conceited jackass.”

His eyes narrow.

I can almost feel the heat of them moving over me, singeing me in the process. Even though the morning air has a slight chill to it, I’m starting to feel hot all over.

“What did you say your name was again?”

A smile spreads slyly across my face. “I didn’t, and because I don’t want to encourage someone who I might have to take out a restraining order against, I’m not giving it to you either.

” Rather pointedly, I glance down at the phone in my hand.

“Not that this conversation isn’t scintillating, but I need to get going or I’ll be late for my nine o’clock. ”

“Seeing as we’re both heading the same way, I’ll join you,” he says smugly.

I groan.

Loudly.

Being coy has never been one of my fortes.

“No, that’s okay. I’m in a hurry.” I give him a bit of side-eye to see if he’s gotten the hint that I’m not interested in him or his company.

If the grin gracing his lips is any indication, he hasn’t. Or he just doesn’t care. I’m going with the whole doesn’t care theory.

Have I mentioned how aggravating I find this guy ?

My feet grind to a halt as I glare at him.

He’s tanking my morning mojo. Maybe if I make him uncomfortable enough, it’ll penetrate his thick skull that I’m not interested.

He stops before eyeing me quizzically. After a few silent moments slide by he asks, “Are we going to stand around all day or head to class? ’Cuz I’m up for either.”

Grrrr.

“Fine,” I huff, figuring I’ll only have to walk with him for a block or so before we go our separate ways. If I’m lucky, I’ll never lay eyes on him again.

Thank god I don’t know his name. It’ll hopefully make forgetting him that much easier. I won’t be able to put a name to that gorgeous face.

I internally wince at my own unfiltered thoughts.

Because I still think he’s beautiful.

Ridiculously so.

And that’s really saying something with the harsh morning sunlight pouring down on us.

Anyone can look like a ten in dim party lighting.

Somehow this guy manages to pull off being an eleven in bright sunlight at nine in the morning.

And it wouldn’t surprise me to learn that he just rolled out of bed looking like that either.

The way the sun highlights all the different shades of mahogany color in his hair has something hot arrowing straight down to my core.

For the love of god and all that’s holy, I still want to drag my traitorous fingers through his hair.

I want to muss it up even more than it already is.

He has one of those artfully messy hairstyles that not many guys can pull off so effortlessly.

I, on the other hand, feel as if I’ve barely scraped myself together with a high ponytail and a scarf…

I seriously need to get away from this guy before I do something completely crazy and actually start to like him.

His deep voice breaks into the chaotic whirl of my thoughts. “So, where you headed?”

I sigh, reluctant to give him any more info than he’s already been able to gather. I don’t want whatever this is between us to become a habit .

“Psychology.”

“Huh.” A smile spreads across his face. “201?” He looks way too happy as he poses the question. It only shreds the last of my frayed nerves.

My guarded gaze swings to his as we continue walking. “That’s right.”

His grin broadens, and those damnable dimples flash and wink. “What a coincidence. Me, too.”

Perfect.

But that doesn’t necessarily mean we have to sit next to each other, does it?

I’ll ditch him as soon as we enter the lecture hall. After all, it seats well over two hundred people, so there’s plenty of room to put some much-needed distance between us. But now I’ll have to see him three times a week for the remainder of the semester.

Talk about crummy luck.

“Hey, Cole,” simpers a skinny blonde from out of nowhere.

Cole.

Crap.

I kind of like that name. And somehow, even though I don’t know him, it fits perfectly. Now I have a name to go along with his striking face.

Double crap.

He offers a friendly smile along with a chin lift. From the corner of my eye, I can’t help but watch their interaction. I want him to be flirty or maybe even stop and talk with her.

He doesn’t.

“Hey, Jules, how’s it going?”

A smile lights up her pretty face just before her eyes rove over him, eating the guy up alive.

Jules isn’t trying to hide the fact that she’d like nothing more than to take a big bite out of him.

Even though I’m walking beside him and it’s fairly obvious we’re together—although not together, if you know what I mean—she doesn’t spare me a glance.

Which is seriously fine with me …

But rude just the same.

“Are we gonna see you at the Alpha Sig party tonight?” Her voice lowers, becoming all sexy and sultry. At this point I want to roll my eyes. Doesn’t this girl realize that it isn’t even nine o’clock in the morning?

“Probably.”

“Then I’ll definitely look for you there.” She bats her thick, mascara-laden lashes at him, and it takes everything I have inside not to bust out laughing.

I’m almost embarrassed for her.

She skewers him with an intense look. Kind of like she’s attempting to use Jedi mind tricks or subliminal messaging, or something along those lines. I think she might be trying to convey that when she finds him tonight, there’ll be an extra special treat in it for him.

Of a sexual nature…wink-wink.

It’s entirely possible the protein bar I wolfed down might make an unexpected reappearance if I don’t get out of here pronto. I’m unsure how much of Jules I can take this early in the morning without becoming violently ill.

Maybe I’d be more tolerant if I’d had my morning cup of coffee.

..but then again, probably not. Rather than watch the pair of them make googly eyes at one another—all right, so maybe the googly eyes are fairly one-sided—I hasten my step, thinking this might be the perfect opportunity to execute an escape plan.

I don’t like the way Cole makes the nerves in my belly tremble.

It’s disconcerting.

“Okay, well, I’ll catch you later.” I speed up as we reach Dorin Hall, the social sciences building. Actually, I have absolutely no intention of catching him later.

Just when I think I’ve shaken him loose, kind of like a sticky burr, he’s once again at my side as I push my way through the wide set of doors.

I do a double take before frowning.

Son of a ? —