“You all gel so well that your house got condemned,” I quip.
“Sad, but true. When I started looking for places for all of us to go, I found out a couple guys graduated in December and vacated a first-floor suite at the Brain Trust. I snagged it right away, and I got Van cleared to live there. I know he’s not part of the program,” Pete says, “but because of his recent surgery, he’s got to have accessible housing.”
He’s a little defensive, and I bristle in return. “Relax. Do you think I’m going to write a scathing article about that? I’m a sucker for fairness, but I’m not an asshole. Van needs a first-floor room, so I’m glad there was one free for him. That’s not cheating the system. It’s not injustice. I can tell the difference between accommodations and unwarranted privilege.”
“Sorry,” he says, his cheeks turning rosy. “I get a little protective when it comes to Van. He’s my best friend.”
“I get that,” I say, thinking of Holland and how I’ll knock the teeth out of anyone who looks at her funny. Maybe Pete and I have more in common than I thought.
“So, we’ll be living in the same place soon. That will be convenient,” he says, causing his cheeks to bloom again. I mean, we’re both busy, so living in the same dorm will make it easier to be seen together.”
“Right,” I agree, forcing my mind not to think about living two floors away from Pete and how tempting that will be.
“Should we lay down some ground rules?” he asks, turning his attention back to his screen.
My phone chimes, reminding me that it’s time to go, so I drop some money on the table and gather up my bag. “Sorry, I need to go. I have a…thing.”
“A ‘thing’? Yeah, that doesn’t sound suspicious at all.”
Shrugging on my coat, I relent. “Have you ever read ‘Taryn Tries It’ inThe Howler?”
Pete shakes his head. “I only read one thing in the paper, and that’s not it.”
I have no doubt he’s a sports page junkie, but I keep going. “Well Taryn tried snowboarding and broke her ass.”
“Speaking as a bio major, I’m concerned.”
“Fine. Her tailbone. Anyway, that means I have to cover her ass at the paper while her literal ass heels.”
He can’t keep the smile off his face. “I can now look forward to reading ‘Claire Tries It’?”
“I’m still negotiating the title. “I think ‘Claire Conquers It’ has a much better ring.”
Pete looks me up and down as I stand up and sling my bag over my shoulder. “Yeah, I can’t think of a better title.”
I leave the coffee shop having realized a few things.
The first is that I’m not immune to Pete Santos, his yummy pheromones, or his playful smile.
The second is that we never made any rules.
Two days later, I’m buckling myself into Holland’s car on my way to our double date. Rosco and Pete are meeting us at a new bar that just opened up right outside of town. We spent the afternoon in spa mode and we both look pretty damn hot. Holland is effortlessly gorgeous with her honey blonde hair and peaches-and-cream skin. Her curvy body looks sexy in everything, but especially in the hip-hugging jeans and low-cut top she’s wearing. I don’t have the same bangin’ body to showcase, but my wide-leg jeans and off-the-shoulder sweater look pretty good, if I do say so myself. The best part of my outfit is my platform suede slides.They’re where comfort meets fashion, but they also make me two inches taller. I never mind being the tallest person in the room, but it bothers a lot of guys. That’s not a problem with the mountain of a man I’m going out with tonight.
“This is so perfect,” she squeals, drumming her hands on the steering wheel at a red light. Can you believe we’re both dating hockey players?”
“Uh, no,” I answer honestly. “Because we’re not. You know that my thing with Pete is fake.”
“Is it?” she asks, her brow arched.
“Yes,” I answer. “All the yes.”
“Does it have to be?” She says, sailing through a green light.
“Yes,” I repeat. “No question.”
Holl pins me with a look only a bestie can give, then turns her eyes back on the road.
“Come on. I have frosted the man out. I verbally pelt him with insults every time we’re in the same vicinity,” I remind her, though Pete’s comment during our breakfast at the diner keeps rattling around in my head.Anytime you want, Claire. That’s what he said when I blurted out how much I’d like to feel him up. Was he serious? Or just teasing? Would he really be open to picking up where we left off in Florida? He seemed to want to start things up after we got back to campus, but that was before he read my article.
