Page 11 of The Good Student (Straight No More #2)

THE COOL EVENING air hits my face as I step outside the dorm. The campus is quieter than usual, most students holed up studying for finals. The walk to Beta Theta Pi takes about fifteen minutes, time enough for me to second-guess myself a dozen times.

What am I even going to say when I get there? Hey, I know I wouldn't return the favor earlier, but I've changed my mind ? Or maybe: Are you busy right now, or can you fit me into your schedule of random hookups ?

I almost turn back twice, but the image of Asher with someone else keeps pushing me forward. By the time the Beta house comes into view—a sprawling Victorian with Greek letters prominently displayed—my heart is racing, but not from the walk.

The house is relatively quiet for a weeknight, though music drifts from somewhere inside and lights shine from most windows.

I stand at the bottom of the porch steps, suddenly aware of how out of place I am.

I've never been here except for parties, have never had a reason to seek out Asher on his home turf.

‘ This is a mistake ,’ I think, turning to leave. But before I can, the front door swings open and two guys step out, laughing about something. They spot me hovering awkwardly at the bottom of the steps.

"You lost?" one of them asks, not unkindly.

I clear my throat. "Uh, no. I'm looking for Asher. Asher Marshall?"

The guys exchange a look that I can't quite interpret. "He's upstairs," the taller one says. "Third floor, second door on the right."

"Thanks," I say, relief and anxiety warring in my chest.

"You want us to tell him you're here?" the other guy asks.

"No!" I say, too quickly. "I mean, no, thanks. I'll just... go up."

They shrug and continue down the steps, leaving me to face the house alone. I take a deep breath and climb the porch stairs, each step feeling like a decision, a commitment to whatever comes next.

Inside, the house is a maze of hallways and rooms. A few people glance at me curiously as I make my way to the stairs, but no one stops me. I climb to the third floor, my footsteps muffled by the worn carpet runner.

Second door on the right. I stand before it, hand raised to knock, when doubt crashes over me again. What if Asher isn't alone? What if he's already found that "someone else" and brought them back here?

The thought makes my stomach churn, but it also strengthens my resolve. Before I can lose my nerve, I knock, three sharp raps against the wooden door.

For a long moment, there's no response. Then, just as I'm about to knock again, the door swings open.

Asher stands in the doorway, dressed in jeans and a faded band t-shirt, hair damp like he's just showered. He looks surprised for a split second before his expression settles into something more neutral.

"Philip," he says, leaning against the doorframe. "This is… unexpected."

My mouth goes dry. Now that I'm here, face to face with Asher, all my carefully rehearsed words desert me. "Are you busy?" I ask instead.

Asher's lips quirk up in a half-smile. "Actually, I was just heading out."

The implication is nauseating. Asher was going out to find someone else, just like he said he would. The realization makes something possessive and primal stir in my chest.

"Did you?" I blurt out before I can stop myself.

Asher tilts his head, confused. "Did I what?"

"Find someone else," I clarify, my voice low. "To take care of... you know."

Understanding dawns in Asher's eyes, followed by amusement. "Not yet," he says. "But I was just about to."

The confirmation shouldn't make me feel relieved, but it does. "Can I come in?" I ask, heart hammering in my chest.

Asher studies me for a long moment, something shifting in his expression. "Are you sure that's what you want?"

I nod, not trusting my voice.

He steps back, opening the door wider. "Then come in."