33
QUINTON
The time on my phone stares back at me in an almost mocking way. I can’t sleep, and I’m going fucking crazy lying here in bed. Ever since my parents and Scarlet left a few days ago, it’s been harder than ever for me to get decent sleep. The time ticks to four, and I decide I need to do something before I end up ripping this room to shreds.
Pulling on a pair of shorts and a hoodie, I slip my feet into my Nikes and grab my wallet, which contains the key card to Aspen’s room. I remember her telling me about her broken sink and decide now is the perfect time to fix it.
I’m bored out of my mind and can’t sleep. What better time to fix something? I’m not much of a handyman, but I’ll do anything to stay busy this morning. Plus, it’s something I can hold against her later to squeeze out an extra hour.
The corridor is empty when I step out into it. There’s a janitor’s closet down the hall where they keep extra linens and towels for students. Not that I’m telling Aspen that. I slide my key card into the door and step inside the small space, flicking the light on.
There is a mop and bucket, broom, and numerous cleaning products. In the corner is a black duffel bag, and I unzip it to check the contents. My eyes drift over the various tools, and I pick it up, carrying it over my shoulder. Exiting the room, I close the door behind me and head to Aspen’s room.
Any normal human would consider their actions before entering another person’s dwelling without being invited, especially at four in the morning, but I’ve never considered myself normal.
When I reach Aspen’s door, I’ve barely broken a sweat. I pull the key card out of my wallet and enter the room without warning. I step inside, and the first thing I notice is Aspen spread out across her bed. She’s wearing panties and a T-shirt. The blanket is kicked away and at her feet, giving me a perfect view of her ass.
My cock starts to grow in my shorts, and the temptation is too much for me. If I wanted to fuck her right now, I could, but I came here to fix her fucking sink, so I’m going to do that instead. Stomping into the bathroom, I drop the bag and look at the damn thing like it’s a foreign object. I’m not even sure how to approach the problem, much less what the problem itself is.
I pull out a pipe wrench and start twisting to loosen the pipes, so I can figure out what the hell is going on, but the wrench slips out of my hands, and my fist slams into the wall.
“Motherfucker!” I yell as pain ricochets up my arm.
“What the hell?” Aspen’s sleepy but confused voice carries into the bathroom. “Do you have any idea what time it is?” she yells a second later. “What in the world are you even doing?”
I grit my teeth and ignore her, focusing my attention on the sink. It’s too damn early to be arguing anyway.
“Seriously, what the hell are you doing?” she asks again, her voice closer this time.
I try to block her pestering voice out, but this pipe is annoying me, and it’s probably not even the pipe that’s the problem. It’s the whole fucking sink.
“Go back to bed, Aspen,” I growl and twist the wrench again. My muscles bulge as I twist the wrench, but the pipe doesn’t budge.
Angrily, I toss the wrench at the wall and stare at the sink. I’m ready to rip it right out of the damn wall and toss it out the bathroom door, but then Aspen appears in the doorway, her sleep-filled eyes find mine, and she takes in the scene before her.
“You didn’t have to fix the sink, Quinton,” she states, all matter-of-factly.
“I know. I don’t have to do a damn thing when it comes to you, but I do it anyway.”
Aspen isn’t affected by my shit mood, or maybe she is, but she doesn’t say anything. I grab the wrench and start trying to rip the pipe off the sink again while she takes a seat on the closed toilet, obviously wanting to watch me.
Her presence isn’t annoying to me, though. If anything, I’ve come to enjoy the lull of calm that rushes through my veins when we’re in the same room. A strange, invisible string tethers us to each other, a connection I don’t understand. It’s almost likefriends.
Which reminds me. “So, tell me more about Brittney. What do you guys talk about or do in the library?”
A long moment of silence passes, and I peer over my shoulder to find Aspen staring daggers at me.
“It’s a library. We read books, and I help her categorize them and stuff. Nothing that other students don’t also do.”
She’s a liar—a bad one, but I won’t let on that I know she’s hiding something. She might use the library as a form of escapism, but something more is going on there.
“You just seem close, and I can’t help but wonder with your bartering if there is something more going on.”
“No, Quinton, there’s nothing going on. Is it a crime for me to want to escape all the snide comments and hateful looks by going there?”
“Not really.” I can tell this is going nowhere fast. Aspen is a vault right now, her emotions and secrets bottled up tight, and unfortunately, I don’t have the damn unlock code yet. I stare at the wrench in my hand. I guess I’ll have to resort to something a little more drastic to get the answers I want.
“I’m not hiding anything. I’m just using the library for what it’s supposed to be used for, studying.”