“You look tired,” he said. “No offense.”
“You want to know what I don’t look like?” I crossed my arms. “The type of person who would buy ‘fleshlights,’ ‘Make My Penis Big’ pills, and doggy-style videos from a porn site every month.”
He raised his eyebrow.
“I know you’re desperate since you’ve always been a loner and a virgin for as long as I’ve known your sister, but credit card fraud is a serious crime. There are consequences and repercussions, and cheating bastards have to pay.”
He smiled a set of pearly whites, revealing that his days of having a metal mouth were forever a prologue.
“This is the part when you start talking about how you’re planning to pay me back,” I said. “I’ll wait.”
He stared at me for several seconds, not saying a word.
“Do I need to repeat myself?” I asked. “If you don’t give me some ideas, I’ll have no choice but to tell your sister and your mom how you’ve been spending your never-ending freshman year. Between you and me, I doubt they’ll be impressed with your choice to double major in Fapping and Fraud.”
“Harlow, I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about,” he said.
“So, I do need to repeat it?”
“No.” He adjusted his towel, and I tried not to stare at what was behind it. “For one, I’ve never paid for porn or bought any sex toys … I’m also not a virgin. Far from it, actually.”
My cheeks heated as he looked me up and down.
“I’m also highly confused as to why you think I have your credit card information,” he said.
“Because I used someone to trace it.” I pulled out my phone and showed him the message. “See? The address leads right to you.”
“It leads to this dorm,” he said. “As a whole. There are one hundred other guys who live here.”
“Do they know that you’ve been a freshman for as long as you have?”
“Cancel the card, and I’ll look into it for you tomorrow.” He looked amused, avoiding my question. “I’m cool with the guy who works in the postal room, so I’m sure he can figure out which guy is stealing from you.”
I said nothing.
A part of me felt stupid for assuming things. The other part of me was now entranced by his full and defined lips.
When the hell did you start looking like this?
“This is the part when you apologize to me, Harlow,” he said, smirking. “Now, I’ll wait.”
“I’m sorry you live amongst someone who is willing to steal from your sister’s best friend. I can only imagine how awful you must feel, knowing that a criminal is within your midst.”
“You’re going to have to do a lot better than that.”
“I’m sorry you’re still in college and someone looked deep into the people you know and somehow accessed my credit card.”
“I don’t think so.” He smiled, and I my stomach flipped. “Try again.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, relenting. “I shouldn’t have assumed anything.”
“You also should’ve called first.” He leaned against the frame. “What if I had company?”
“Do you?”
“Depends,” he said, looking me over in a way that made me blush. “Would you like to watch a few episodes with me? For old times’ sake?”
I blinked. He and I hadn’t watched anything together in years. Of course, there was once a time when I could always depend on him to binge the things that Chelsea hated—horror, sci-fi, and anything that was a documentary, but that was back when I was the one in college.
Back when I never would dare to think about what his lips would feel like against mine.
“I uh—” I stepped back as an image of him pulling me against his rock-hard chest crossed my mind. “I should get back home.”
“I’ll give you some gas money if you stay a while.”
“In that case, I’m broke enough to watch a few episodes.”
He laughed and motioned for me to come inside.
I was surprised at his clean and organized room. Far bigger than any dorm space I’d seen, it didn’t look like a college student lived in it.
The bed was on the far side of the room, pressed against a huge bay window. The large TV screen hung high on the wall, guarding a row of neatly stacked boxes.
On his bookshelves, there didn’t seem to be any fiction. Only books about physical therapy and pressure relief.
So, you changed your major again.
“You know, there’s no shame in dropping out of school, Tyler,” I said. “Whenever people say, ‘Take all the time in the world to find a passion before you graduate,’ they don’t really mean that.”
“So, you still have a smart-ass mouth …”
“I’m just saying—” I turned my back as he stepped into his bathroom and dressed. “You don’t have to waste thirty-thousand dollars a year on tuition if you’re not getting anything out of it. You could start your own business or something.”