Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 84114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
It’s been almost a week since we hung out.
I need to find an excuse to talk to him.
“Still haven’t closed on that then,” Jacobs says beside me. “Who turns the Foster Grant down? I mean, doesn’t he know who you are on this campus?”
“It’s not like that. I’m his best friend’s cocky and annoying brother. That’s how he sees me.” That’s how he should see me.
“Want me to make him jealous?” Jacobs slings his arm over my shoulder, and the movement must catch Zach’s eye because his head swivels, and his green eyes level me.
I shove Jacobs away, which only makes him laugh.
“Hey, it worked.” He nods in Zach’s direction.
The scowl marring Zach’s cute, round face makes him look like a senior in high school instead of a guy going for his master’s.
“He’s probably pissed we’re interrupting the class,” I say. “Can’t you sit still for ninety minutes?”
“Nope.”
I scoff. “Figures.”
I tap my pen on my notebook while trying to come up with a reason to approach Zach after class. There’s nothing wrong with checking up on him. It’s what Seth asked me to do.
When class ends, I wait for him outside the room like I did last time, but after waiting forever, I duck my head back inside and realize he must’ve used the side entrance to leave.
Damn it.
The rest of the day goes by too fucking slowly, and I wonder if I’m moving in slow-motion.
Not seeing Zach is actually driving me crazy.
Statistically, we should have run into each other on campus. The fact we haven’t makes me think he’s doing what Seth says he does all the time and has been hiding in his room.
Seth wants Zach to make friends. He asked me to look out for him. Therefore, it’s my duty to invite him out tonight. And I’m nothing but responsible.
Yup.
“Screw it,” I mutter to myself. After heading to my dorm for a quick shower and change of clothes, I go in the opposite direction of the LGBTQ mixer I’m supposed to be going to. Instead, my feet lead me toward Albany Hall.
My student card doesn’t let me into the building because it’s not my dorm, but someone’s coming out as I’m on my way in and they hold the door open for me.
“Thanks.”
“No problem, Grant.”
I have no idea who that person is, but clearly, they know me.
That’s what being on the hockey team means at this school.
I run up the stairs to Zach’s room and bang on his door.
Movement from inside sounds but then goes still.
I knock again. “Zach?”
Footsteps get louder, and he opens the door wearing sweats and an old ratty T-shirt. “Foster? What are you doing here?”
“Already settled in for the night?” I ask, running my gaze over his slim build and back up again.
His hair is messy, his glasses are kinda smudged, and it looks like I might’ve woken him from an afternoon nap.
He doesn’t answer me. His head drops, and he plays with the hem of his shirt.
“I’m not teasing you,” I say.
His head shoots up. “What?”
“I’m not teasing you. I meant you look … comfortable.” And delectable, but no way in hell I’m saying that aloud.
“Oh. Umm, yeah. I was going to order in and study, then go to bed.”
Why does that seem so much more appealing than going to this mixer? Not in my room, but right here.
Focus!
“Did you need something?” Zach asks. He’s got the door only partially open, just enough for his body to fit.
I wonder what that’s about. “Oh, shit. Do you have someone in there with you?”
Who? And … who?
“What? No.”
Why don’t I believe him?
“Oh, so you’re being rude on purpose? Isn’t it polite to invite a person in when they come over?”
“Isn’t it polite to give someone a heads up before you show up unannounced?”
“Touché.” I take out my phone and send off a text.
His phone beeps in the room behind him.
“You better get that. It sounds important.”
He cracks a smile. Finally. “Are you going to tell me why you’re here or not?”
“I’m here for two reasons. One, I’m guessing by your lack of communication that you’re understanding team dynamics and individual goals better.”
“I know enough to grade everyone’s papers.”
I narrow my eyes. “But not enough to understand it.”
“So?”
“So, you were still taking notes in class. Meaning you want to understand it because you still can’t wrap your head around it in a practical sense, and it’s driving you crazy.”
He grunts. “And reason number two for why you’re here other than to remind me I don’t belong in your class?”
“Oh, I’m heading out to the LGBTQ mixer thing. Wanted to invite you.”
I’m starting to realize talking to Zach requires processing breaks. Like, his robotic mind needs time to take in the words and analyze them.
Zach lets out a sigh, and disappointment fills his eyes. “Seth asked you to do this, didn’t he?”