I nearly fall out of my plank position and smash my head on the ground. “What?”
“You into dudes or what?”
“Why would you ask that?”
Mal wipes a towel across his face and shrugs. “Just curious.”
“Well, I’m not. I like pussy and boobs. Lots of them.”
I do. I like them very much. They’re non-negotiable. But I also like cuddling with Whit and having those strong legs underneath me and his hands in my hair.
So what the hell is up with that?
Not something I have time to contemplate right now.
Mal watches me for a moment and then slaps my back lightly. “Alright, dude. Whatever you say, yeah? Whatever floats your boat. Want to go eat? I’m starving.”
“Yep,” I say as we head to the showers to wash the sweat off.
We make it to the cafeteria in record time and stack our trays with food. When I go to sit down, Mal nudges me.
“Look who it is. Your elusive roommate.”
I glance behind me and see Whit sitting at a table with two other girls and a guy. He’s leaning forward, his mouth moving as he discusses something with them. He’s wearing his usual dark grey pants and a black long-sleeved shirt. His hair is neatly combed, his face clean-shaven.
He looks intense, his eyebrows drawn down, his eyes flashing.
“He’s a serious guy,” Mal says, drawing my gaze back to my best friend.
“Yeah.” I take a large mouthful of food and then swallow it down quickly. I don’t taste it. I just consume it like a vacuum.
“He did well with your family, though.”
“I know. My aunt was calling him sweet pea.”
Mal guffaws loudly at that and then shakes his head. “You should just marry him, man. When has your aunt ever liked any of your girlfriends.”
“She’s never met any of them.”
“Exactly.”
I mull that one over and then sigh.
“Maybe I should go say hello,” I tell Mal as I shovel more food into my mouth. I just want to get the chewing and swallowing over with. Why does eating take so long?
“Nah, he’s busy. Looks like it’s something important.”
I glance over my shoulder and see Whit talking to the guy next to him, who happens to be entirely too pretty. Is he wearing suspenders?
I glance down at my track pants and loose tank top.
Tugging my ball cap, I pull it off and put it on backward. Definitely don’t look anything like the guy currently fawning all over him.
Maybe this pretty boy’s the reason Whit’s been avoiding me. Maybe they’re a couple?
In between bites of food, I turn around and watch Whit some more because I can’t help myself and catch him furiously texting on his phone and then shoving it back into his pocket when he’s done like he wants to be done with whatever conversation he’s having. I also see the pretty boy running his hands along Whit’s arm.
Too much touching going on here.