I glance over my shoulder at his and Vin’s side of the room. Suddenly, it’s easy to find Anthony’s closet—there’s two closets side-by-side on that side of the room, both open. One is spilling over with clothes, towels, jerseys in what looks like every size, shape, and color. Not to mention more than a few bags of what seems to be workout equipment. Vin has the workout equipment, but probably less clothing than I knew it was possible to own—just two pairs of identical jeans, four identical black T-shirts, a leather jacket, and a neatly ordered stack of his exercise gear.
I almost laugh at that. “Guess you’re the over-packer in this room,” I say.
“Not the first time,” Vin replies, laughing as he punches Anthony’s shoulder lightly. He’s still wearing his towel, and he shoots Anthony a pointed look as he heads for the door. “You know, we’re going to miss coach’s dinner meeting if we don’t clean up soon, right?”
Anthony grimaces and turns away from me with one last glance, his gaze seeming almost regretful. But he grabs his shower caddy and towel and pads out of the room after Vin anyway. I’m left alone, stunned, in the middle of a pile of lacrosse equipment, the guys’ heady scent still lingering in the air.
I cross the room and shove open the window, hoping the cool fall air outside will cleanse the room of them—not to mention clear my head.
That done, I pull the sheets I brought onto my bed, then flop down face-first onto it and grab my phone. It’s 6 pm here, which means it’s only 3 pm on the West Coast, so Nita is probably only just getting to her dorm. She might be busy with orientation at her school or off meeting new friends. But I need the distraction right now, so I text her anyway.
Just got moved in. How’s it going on your end?
It takes a few minutes, but the text window soon lights up with her response. Still at the airport, waiting for my luggage. You’re so lucky you could drive there. It was hell to try and cram everything I own into just two oversized bags.
I grin, hearing the text aloud in my best friend’s voice. Yeah, well, that’s what you get for running so far away from me, I say with a couple added tongue-sticking-out emojis for emphasis.
You know I had to do this. It’s my dream school.
I know, I admit. I’m just teasing. I’m proud of you really. It’s ballsy, moving that far away. I couldn’t handle it. Hell, I’m freaking out just being here, a few hours’ drive from home.
You’re going to rock this year, Nita replies immediately. Talking me up like she always does. If anyone can utterly own freshman year, it’s you.
I don’t know about that… I’m typing, just as the dorm room door swings open again. I start, glancing up and locking eyes with both boys, dripping wet from the showers, their hair running across their foreheads into their eyes, chests bare and glistening with droplets of water. Only the towels around their waists hide their bodies from me, and those towels are not doing a very good job of concealing… well, anything.
My eyes go straight to their crotches, unable to help myself. Vin and Anthony smirk, knowingly, almost in unison.
“How’s the unpacking going?” Vin asks, his voice faux-casual as he casts a glance at my still-full bags.
“Fine,” I respond, burying my face in my phone again. Though probably not before he’d have been able to glimpse my neon-red blush, as my whole face catches on fire.
I think I might be more easily distracted than I thought, I add to Nita, deliberately typing as slowly as possible to avoid looking up.
The boys strike up a conversation of their own, talking about practice schedules and their first match of the year in a couple of weeks against a tough rival school. I’m half-listening, half-pretending to read my phone waiting for Nita’s response.
Then I realize, out of the corner of my eye, that they’re getting dressed. Not only that, but they’ve both just dropped the towels and started pulling on boxers—with their backs to me, sure, but they’re flat-out naked all the same. My breath catches in my throat, and my whole body feels like it’s on fire. I can see Anthony’s muscular, curved ass as he bends over to step into his boxers. The way Vin’s back muscles contract as he stands up and snaps his onto his narrow waist, right over those V-cut muscles on his abs.
And that’s all out of the corner of my eye. Imagine if I actually dared to turn my head and look…
No. I close my eyes, taking a deep breath.
Opening that window did not help cool things off in here at all.
The phone buzzes in my hand as Nita responds. Please, Cassidy, she texts, and I can practically see her rolling her eyes already. You are the least distractible person I have ever met. I’d like to see what could possibly get you of all people off-track.
Yeah, I think, though I don’t type it. You would definitely enjoy seeing what has me distracted right now…
Instead, I just sigh and type out a real answer. We’ll see.
No, you’ll see, she says. This year is going to be great. I’m so excited.
Out of the corner of my eye, I realize the boys have finally finished dressing. Or at least, they have shorts and T-shirts on now, which I guess is as much as I’ll be able to hope for this year. I cast a glance over at them, still in the middle of talking about their lacrosse schedule. Apparently, they have practice really early in the mornings, starting tomorrow. Sounds like hell to me. But Anthony meets my eye when I steal a peek, and he winks, a small smile lingering on his perfectly-curved mouth.
I’m not so sure excited is the right word, Nita, I think, my stomach coiling with dread.
Crazy boy roommates or not, I manage to survive my first day of orientation. It was actually pretty enjoyable—I met a couple of girls who would be in a few of my bio classes, as well as some really cool professors who spoke to us a bit about what our first week would be like. There are some after-dinner activities out on the lawns, just general stuff like ice-breaker games. And, of course, a few of the partiers in the dorms have already identified themselves, staking out a corner cluster of rooms for a less-than-legal welcome-freshmen party. I can smell the booze from down the hall as I pass, on my way up to bed for an early night after spending a couple hours trying to be social by pretending I like lawn bowling. (Who even knew that was a sport, anyway?)
But the moment I open the door to the room, I’m reminded of my real dilemma here. The boys aren’t here, but I see evidence of them everywhere, fr