Page 15 of Sticks and Stones (Shadow Valley U)
“My. Things.”
I sit up and dog-ear my book, dropping it onto the bed beside me. “Sorry, not sure what you’re talking about. You have things?”
Her expression tightens. “I swear, I will go get Evan—”
“Okay, okay. Calm down, Sticks. I was just preparing your space. Making it nice and cozy for you.” I lean down and drag the bin out, cracking it open. “Hey, there’s even room for you in here.”
She stops moving. Her gaze is glued on her things all shoved rather haphazardly in the bin. To be fair, it’s a decent size. She wasn’t lacking inthatmuch stuff.
“We can switch off with the bed,” she finally says, jerking the bin farther away from me. She drops to her knees and rummages through it.
“No, we can’t.”
Her hazel eyes are greener today. Or maybe it’s just the room…or her t-shirt.
“You should shower,” I add. “You smell like sweat and overcooked food.”
“Fuck you,” she seethes. She grabs handfuls of clothes and her toiletries and darts for the door.
I wiggle my fingers at her and put my earbud back in.
She returns an hour later, her long, dark hair caught up in a towel on top of her head. She’s in a threadbare t-shirt that does nothing to hide her nipples and shorts that barely cover her ass.
“You walked around out there like that?”
Her sigh is her only reply.
I toss my book on the nightstand and point to the pile of blankets. “There’s your shit. Surely you can make a nest like a good little rat.”
Her eyes narrow, and she takes her time working the towel out of her hair. She throws the wet thing in my direction. It hits my chest, and the scent of her shampoo assaults my nose. I make a choking noise and drop down on the bed.
“Is that fucking lavender?” I cough out.
“What’s your problem?”
“I’m allergic. My throat is going to swell—”
“Oh my God.” She rushes me. Her fingers dig into my wrist, trying to pry my hand away from my throat. “Jesus, Stone, I had no idea—” The panic written across her features is what breaks me.
I burst out laughing.
She falls away from me.
“The expression on your face,” I wheeze. “I actually thought you cared for a second. Damn, Sticks, you could’ve fooled me.”
“That’s not funny.” She pats down her shirt and pivots away sharply.
Not funny. Was she trying to be funny when she put the drugs under my truck?
“Some pranks just don’t hit right, do they?” My voice is cold. “We have an early morning.”
I reach for the light and click it off before she can react, leaving her standing in the dark. I put my earbuds back in and crank my music. Because fuck her. I can’t let my guard down again.
* * *
I wake before my alarm,and I’m immediately conscious of the second body in the room. Her breathing is deep, and when I carefully roll over, I spot her form in the low, early morning light. She’s created a makeshift bed with the blankets and sheets, and she’s so deeply burrowed in it all I can make out is the upper half of her face and her fan of dark hair.
She didn’t prank me in the middle of the night. I sort of expected to wake up with whipped cream on my palm and a feather on my nose, or my palms glued together, or my hand left in warm water.