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But I’m patient—a word no one ever uses to describe me. I wait.

She glances quickly in my direction, flashing me a smile before she turns away. My heart starts to race, and I wonder if I’m getting played.

Getting played for something good, is what I’m hoping.

After delivering m

ore hugs to her friends, she takes off, leaving the kitchen. I do the same. She walks down the hall, passing by a bathroom, where people are waiting to use it. She talks to one boy in particular, resting her hand on his chest briefly before she departs.

My chest burns. That motherfucker is lucky he didn’t do something stupid, like touch her. I send him a glare as I walk past him and he immediately throws up his hands, looking confused.

Dick.

The hall makes a sharp turn right and I panic for a moment when I pass the corner and still don’t see her. It’s nothing but closed doors, two on the left, three on the right. I keep walking, my steps slow, my gaze whipping back and forth, just waiting for one of those doors to open.

But there’s nothing.

The hall turns left and I keep going, stopping short when I spot Ava at the end of the hall, in front of a set of closed double doors. She smiles when she sees me, her hands going to her hips.

“You’re so predictable.”

Some might take that as criticism, but I don’t. She likes that she can count on me.

“I call it dependable,” I tell her as I slow down, putting some swagger into my step.

Her eyes flare with interest and a smile plays upon her lips. “Are we playing a game, Eli?”

“Life is a continuous game,” I say as I make my approach. She’s leaning against the doors, her hips thrust forward some, those long legs catching my attention. “And you know I’m always up to win.”

“I am not your prize.”

“Really?” I raise a brow. “Could’ve fooled me.”

I grab hold of her hips, making her gasp, and pull her into me, our bodies flush, a shaky breath leaving her when we’re face to face. “What’s behind the doors?”

“I-I don’t know.”

I lean in closer, my mouth about an inch from hers. Maybe closer. “Liar.”

“One of the main bedrooms,” she whispers.

“Meaning there’s a nice big bed inside?”

She nods.

I reach around her, testing the door handle and it opens with ease. Jackson is such a dumb fucker. If this was my place, I’d be locking every door I could to keep the riffraff out. “Come on,” I tell her, releasing my hold on her hips, so I can take her hand and lead her into the bedroom. “Let’s check it out.”

Ava follows me inside, and I turn, firmly shutting and locking the door while she hits the switch on the wall, illuminating the room in soft, golden light. It’s huge, like twice as big as Ava’s bedroom and her room is impressive. There’s a massive, what looks to be, custom bed sitting dead center with a cream-colored duvet cover on top and a massive faux fur throw blanket tossed across the end of the mattress.

“Looks comfy,” she says.

I stop just behind her, slipping my arms around her waist and nuzzling the side of her face with mine. “Let’s test it out.”

She melts into me, resting her hands over mine. “I think this is where Ellie and Jackson are sleeping.”

“They won’t mind.” I push her hair aside with my face and press my mouth on her neck. “Come on.”

“Not yet,” she breathes, when my lips find that particular spot behind her ear. “We should go back to the party.”


Tags: Monica Murphy College Years Romance