telling me, right here in the entryway of my apartment—of our apartment—that when it comes to our relationship, I’m calling the shots.
“Maybe we can lead each other,” I tell him.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Brandon
Mark and my other roommates help me unload before heading off to the basketball game. Normally I’d go with them, but I need to get unpacked.
At least, that’s what I tell them.
After giving me the grand tour, Steph went to class while I began the process of turning Tessa’s old room into my own. I wasn’t lying when I said I didn’t have much stuff. Knowing I was headed straight to Fort Gordon after graduation, I had packed light for my last semester at Peyton. Everything made it into two cardboard boxes and a suitcase. I also have my Army-issued green duffle—which will remain hidden in the cab of my truck.
I mean, it’s not like I can let her see it.
Anything with ARMY printed on it goes in the very back of the closet. That includes my PT gear and my Class A uniform, which I’m required to wear to labs on Wednesday and Thursday. I’ve only worn it twice so far, which would explain why Steph’s never seen it. I have no idea how I’m going to get out of the apartment on Wednesday.
Maybe it needs to stay in the cab of the truck, too.
Before I can get too disgusted with myself, I finish unpacking my clothes. I have no pictures, so there’s nothing to hang on the walls. My books now have a home on the nightstand, and my laptop is charging on top of the small dresser.
I save the best for last.
The bed.
Tessa, the sweet girl she is, left me everything—the sheets, the pillows, even the comforter. She could have stripped it bare and I wouldn’t have cared.
With a contented sigh, I lay down on the mattress. My feet don’t dangle. I can turn. I can twist. I can flop. And when I do, all six-foot-two-inches of me remains on the bed .
Unbelievably—or maybe not considering how comfortable I am— I fall asleep, and I don’t wake up until I hear Steph’s voice behind the door, calling my name.
It’s the only thing that could get me out of that bed. After taking another good look around to make sure everything that needs to be hidden is out of sight, I open the door.
“Hey, roomie.”
“Hey. All settled?” she asks, taking a peek inside.
“Yep. It didn’t take long. I even took a nap.”
“Well, I brought pizza. You’re welcome to share.”
“Okay.”
I follow her to the kitchen, which smells like heaven thanks to the large pepperoni and sausage waiting for us on the table.
“How was class?” I ask as we take our seats.
“Terrible. I hate Physics.”
“Why?”
She reaches for a slice. “It’s just a lot of math. That’s why I’m an English major, so that I can avoid teaching anything that remotely involves numbers.”
“I’m okay at math, but I like science. Taking things apart. Putting them back together. Making them work when no one else can.”
“Like computers?”
“Computers, radio and satellite systems . . . anything that can be programmed, really.”
“Do you have a job waiting for you in Georgia?”
I choke on my pizza. How does she know about Georgia? Steph offers me a bottle of water, which I accept gratefully and guzzle down. As I do, I pray for an answer—an answer that doesn’t require me to lie.
“Better?”
I clear my throat. “Yeah, thanks.”
“Good.” Steph offers me a napkin. “So, what’s in Georgia?”
“How do you know about Georgia?”
“You told us at dinner, remember? The night Tessa cooked you a Mexican buffet?”
Oh yeah.
“I just have some additional training. It’s required.” Relieved that I managed to give her a vague version of the truth, I quickly change the subject. “You know, I could probably help you with your Physics. What was tonight’s lesson?”
“I have no idea. It was completely over my head, so I spent the entire time coming up with a list of rules.”
“Rules?”
“For us.”
“Maybe we can lead each other,” I tell him.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Brandon
Mark and my other roommates help me unload before heading off to the basketball game. Normally I’d go with them, but I need to get unpacked.
At least, that’s what I tell them.
After giving me the grand tour, Steph went to class while I began the process of turning Tessa’s old room into my own. I wasn’t lying when I said I didn’t have much stuff. Knowing I was headed straight to Fort Gordon after graduation, I had packed light for my last semester at Peyton. Everything made it into two cardboard boxes and a suitcase. I also have my Army-issued green duffle—which will remain hidden in the cab of my truck.
I mean, it’s not like I can let her see it.
Anything with ARMY printed on it goes in the very back of the closet. That includes my PT gear and my Class A uniform, which I’m required to wear to labs on Wednesday and Thursday. I’ve only worn it twice so far, which would explain why Steph’s never seen it. I have no idea how I’m going to get out of the apartment on Wednesday.
Maybe it needs to stay in the cab of the truck, too.
Before I can get too disgusted with myself, I finish unpacking my clothes. I have no pictures, so there’s nothing to hang on the walls. My books now have a home on the nightstand, and my laptop is charging on top of the small dresser.
I save the best for last.
The bed.
Tessa, the sweet girl she is, left me everything—the sheets, the pillows, even the comforter. She could have stripped it bare and I wouldn’t have cared.
With a contented sigh, I lay down on the mattress. My feet don’t dangle. I can turn. I can twist. I can flop. And when I do, all six-foot-two-inches of me remains on the bed .
Unbelievably—or maybe not considering how comfortable I am— I fall asleep, and I don’t wake up until I hear Steph’s voice behind the door, calling my name.
It’s the only thing that could get me out of that bed. After taking another good look around to make sure everything that needs to be hidden is out of sight, I open the door.
“Hey, roomie.”
“Hey. All settled?” she asks, taking a peek inside.
“Yep. It didn’t take long. I even took a nap.”
“Well, I brought pizza. You’re welcome to share.”
“Okay.”
I follow her to the kitchen, which smells like heaven thanks to the large pepperoni and sausage waiting for us on the table.
“How was class?” I ask as we take our seats.
“Terrible. I hate Physics.”
“Why?”
She reaches for a slice. “It’s just a lot of math. That’s why I’m an English major, so that I can avoid teaching anything that remotely involves numbers.”
“I’m okay at math, but I like science. Taking things apart. Putting them back together. Making them work when no one else can.”
“Like computers?”
“Computers, radio and satellite systems . . . anything that can be programmed, really.”
“Do you have a job waiting for you in Georgia?”
I choke on my pizza. How does she know about Georgia? Steph offers me a bottle of water, which I accept gratefully and guzzle down. As I do, I pray for an answer—an answer that doesn’t require me to lie.
“Better?”
I clear my throat. “Yeah, thanks.”
“Good.” Steph offers me a napkin. “So, what’s in Georgia?”
“How do you know about Georgia?”
“You told us at dinner, remember? The night Tessa cooked you a Mexican buffet?”
Oh yeah.
“I just have some additional training. It’s required.” Relieved that I managed to give her a vague version of the truth, I quickly change the subject. “You know, I could probably help you with your Physics. What was tonight’s lesson?”
“I have no idea. It was completely over my head, so I spent the entire time coming up with a list of rules.”
“Rules?”
“For us.”
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