“Oh, it’s on the other side of campus. We drove. It’s not super far, but I have a terrible sense of direction, so if I try to lead you there, chances are we’ll be wandering around Bainbridge until daylight. And those abs don’t lie, but I doubt you want to carry me around for hours. I’ll just call a rideshare.”
“Or…”
“Or?”
“What do you think about heading inside for a bit? I’ll get you some ice, and I’m betting they’ve got a first aid kit somewhere. Let’s get you fixed up a little before we try to find your friend’s place. Sound good?”
I can feel my ankle starting to swell and the cut on my knee should probably be cleaned sooner rather than later.
“Yeah. I just…um. This is going to sound bitchy, but bear with me. I appreciate you more than you know. But can we not make a huge deal of this? Like…how stealthy are you? Think there’s any chance we can sneak in for some ice and bandages and sneak out before anyone spots us and it’s a big deal. I’ve had enough big deals to last a lifetime.”
JT nods. “Stealth mode activated. And just so we’re clear,” he adds, lifting me a little higher and pulling me a little closer, “I’m fully on board to carry you around campus while you look at each and every dorm room, house, and apartment to see if it might be the one your friend just moved into. Come sunrise, I won’t even break a sweat.”
I have nothing to say to that, so I rest my head against his very broad, very naked chest as he walks us around to the back door.
If I were looking for trouble, this guy would be it.
But I am not, so he’s just a nice guy who knows some first aid and has muscles for days.
That’s all.
Because I am done with trouble.
So done.
CHAPTER 4
JT
Half the guysI know are worried about the future. They talk about it all the time. They stress about it all the time. They make plans and when those plans go sideways, they make some more and start the whole cycle over again.
I’m not shitting on anybody’s worldview. You do you and all that.
And I’m not saying I’m immune to stress. Hell no. I just try to take it in and let it out.
I’m no planner. I have goals—literally—and I put in the work to meet them. I just don’t subscribe to the philosophy of mapping out every minute of my future, every second of every day. I know guys who live by that code, and it works for them. Santos is a spreadsheet guy. Rosco’s got a whole system of benchmarks and rewards. More power to them.
But it’s not for me.
And that’s because every good thing in my life has happened by chance.
No lie.
My best memories are the direct results of random occurrences.
And every plan I’ve ever made has failed.
A couple years ago, I worked my ass off and won a full scholarship to Woodcock University. I had goals and plans and checkmarks.
They all went up in a fiery blaze and I ended up here in Bainbridge, Maryland by sheer luck and the good fortune of being in the right place at the right time.
To the very core of my being, I believe that the bad shit’s going to happen whether you plan or not. The trick is not to get so caught up in avoiding the pitfalls of life that you miss the good stuff.
Take my current situation, for instance.
I had no plans to come out tonight. In fact, I had plans to ditch my buddies and veg out in front of my TV.
Instead, I’m sneaking in the back door of a frat house looking for an empty bathroom.
