4. Nolan
Nolan
H adley remains in her car for a moment, attention turned to her lap.
I glance at my phone, unable to stop my smirk as I read Katie’s texts.
Katie: Don’t flirt with Hadley.
I roll my neck, feeling the tension and muscles still sore from yesterday’s full-contact practice.
Me: What if she flirts with me?
Katie: I’m serious, Nolan. She’s not a cleat chaser.
Me: You think only cleat chasers want me?
Katie: I swear. If you cross this line, you’re moving back into your dorm.
Me: I won’t cross any lines she doesn’t want me to.
Katie: I swear, Nolan, don’t even think about it.
This morning, Hadley didn’t give off any vibes that alluded to being interested in me. Instead, she was distracted and hurried, focused on getting to class and little more.
She gets out of her car and walks around the back of my truck, her dark hair catching in the sun.
My grandmother would call her classically beautiful, and others would refer to her as the girl next door with wide eyes, a narrow nose, and full lips.
Everything about her is subtle and demure that likely has people overlooking her because she doesn’t dress or smile or wear makeup to draw attention to any part of her—everything that is, but her eyes which are an electric shade of blue, impossible to ignore.
Hadley stops at the base of the stairs, keys and phone tucked into her fist as she looks from me and then the door.
I’m still unsure which roommate is the computer nerd, the band geek, or the bookworm, but as I meet Hadley’s inquiring gaze, the one thing I am sure of is she has no interest in a chase.
Unlike Katie, who has mastered the look of superiority and rage, Hadley looks indifferent, guarded, and uncomfortable by being here.
Maybe Katie sent her a matching warning.
“Thanks for coming,” I say, climbing to my feet.
She gives a tight-lipped smile, one out of obligation rather than intrigue. “It worked out. I need to grab a textbook, anyway.” She climbs the stairs, hugging the rail opposite of me, and doesn’t look back before she unlocks the door.
The air conditioner hums as we step inside, followed by a fly that Hadley bats away, before following it with her eyes as it flies farther into the house.
The silence is uncomfortable, a stale and foreign feeling I haven’t experienced in so long I can’t recall the last time.
Hadley turns her gaze to me, a matching level of discomfort reflecting in her gaze.
I recall my intention to stay here and how that relies entirely on Katie and her roommate’s approval as I search for something to say that might win Hadley’s consent.
We don’t need to be friends or even play at being friends, just her approval.
I barely have time for my teammates, much less a stranger.
I clear my throat. “I hear you’re into computers.”
She furrows her brow, drawing my attention to her eyebrows which aren’t thick or thin, neat but not a trend or beauty statement—another subtle note about her. “Into computers?”
“Programming?” It’s a question as I race to recall the details Katie had shared about them last year when our parents visited for parent weekend, and we spent an entire dinner with Katie assuring and reassuring them her roommates weren’t serial killers.
“That’s Hannah,” she says.
“Band?” I ask.
Hadley’s expression sours, but it’s so slight the details quickly morph into an unassuming and bland smile. “No. I’m the crazy one with ten cats and a knife collection.” She doesn’t even blink.
“Ten’s a good number, more than that and you risk drawing attention to yourself.”
The corners of her lips slowly rise, as though she’s fighting a smile.
“Exactly. Eleven straddles the line between appearing desperate and wanting people to ask about them.”
Straddles . The word sounds indecent coming from her full lips, drawing an image in my head of straddling my hips, my bed—my face.
Her eyes narrow a fraction as though she knows exactly how dirty my thoughts have turned, questioning if I’m a creep or a perv.
I should probably admit I’d be willing to be either— both —but thoughts of Katie’s warning and returning to the dorm without spending a single damn night here have those thoughts coming to an abrupt end.
“Right, which is why I’m not asking about your cats but instead about how you sleep with any cat and a case of knives, considering cats turn into untrustworthy assholes the second you fall asleep. ”
Humor flashes in her eyes, but she continues to hold back her smile like a best-kept secret. “Maybe you give off a vibe that makes them not trust you…”
When Mila and I bantered for the better part of last year, innuendos weren’t just laced in our words, they were the damn tracks of our conversation, blatant and clear, but I leave my conversation with Hadley clean as a G-rated film as I grin conspiratorially. “Guess you’ll have to find out.”
She tilts her head. “From what I hear, science club keeps you pretty busy.”
Confusion has me squinting for half a second before her joke catches me, making me lose the game as I smile first. A genuine smile.
Nearly instantly, she follows, and though I’d guess it’s muted, it still feels like a win, albeit, short-lived because the second hit of silence spreads like a virus, fast and unrelenting.
I haven’t worked at being friends with someone of the opposite sex in so damn long I can’t remember the steps, a testament to my busy as hell schedule more than my character, but I’m sure she’ll assume I’m a total dick if I admit this to her.
“Are you a sophomore? Junior?”
“Sophomore,” she says. “And you’re a…”
“Junior.”
She nods. “I didn’t realize you and Katie were so close in age.”
I swallow the questions her words unveil about what my sister’s shared about me. “Thirteen months.”
Her eyes round again. “Wow. So you’re Irish twins? That’s what it’s called right?” Her brow lowers and her teeth graze her bottom lip, an expression that could be made into posters that every guy would give his car to own. “Or is thirteen months too long? Is it less than a year?”
I nod. “Close enough.”
Hadley nods as well, that silence beginning to stretch between us again.
She takes a step back, small, but enough to gain my attention.
Girls usually lean closer and find excuses to touch me, clear indications that they’re into me, inviting attention, or more.
Hadley’s re-establishing the boundary lines.
Once again, I’m caught wondering if Katie sent her a similar warning.
“Do you need help?” she asks, pointing in the direction of the front door. “Bringing your stuff inside?”
“I don’t have anything interesting like a knife collection or a dozen cats.”
“Ten,” she says, setting her bag down.
“Ten,” I lament. “I thought you had to get a textbook?”
She shrugs as she keeps my stare. “I still might.”
I bark out a laugh unsure if it’s her honesty or humor that garners the reaction, possibly both. She smiles coyly, then turns before the air grows stale again and crosses the formal living room that is nearly empty, used as a hall to reach the kitchen and dining room.
The sun is bright and round in the sky, warning me I have to be at practice soon.
I’m eyeing the clouds in the distance, waging if they’re storm clouds or benign shade when Hadley gasps and jumps back, nearly running into me.
She shudders and wipes a hand across her forehead and then the front of her shirt before she shudders again, head to toe.
“You good?”
She looks over her shoulder at me, eyes growing wide as though she forgot I was here.
Pink stains her cheeks and her mouth falls open a fraction before she purses her lips and laughs nervously—a forced habit rather than a reaction.
“I forgot how big the spiders here are.” She points at a web that stretches from a window to one of the shrubs in the yard, a garden spider nearly eye-level with her that’s the size of my palm.
“He’s harmless,” I tell her. “We have a ton of zipper spiders in Indiana.”
Hadley shakes her head. “I’ll take your word on it being harmless. That’s a knife fight I’d show up with a blowtorch to.”
“Where are you from?”
“Vegas.”
“Vegas?”
She gives me an unreadable expression, a flash of what I think is contempt as she waits for me to tag more words to my question.
“What brought you to Camden?”
She turns, her shoulders lifting fractionally as she continues to the back of my truck, allowing me to steal a glance at her from head to heel.
Hadley’s light gray shorts don’t have back pockets, allowing me an eye-full that confirms she could turn even a breast man into an ass man—anything but subtle.
She stops and faces me, and my gaze jumps so damn fast I’m sure she knows I was just checking her out.
“I wanted to see more of the country. My brother and sister both went out of state.”
“To Camden?”
She looks away as she shakes her head. Though I barely know her, I would bet this is a tell— her tell. Her nervous tic when she’s uncomfortable. “No. My sister went to New York and my brother went to California.”
“You’re the youngest?” I ask, moving to stand beside her as I unlatch the hatch of my truck.
She nods as she grabs a garbage bag, hauling it closer to her. “My sister is seven years older, and my brother is nine years older.”
“That’s quite the span.”
Hadley nods again. “Yeah, our dynamic kind of shifts between friends, siblings, and parental roles pretty frequently.” She lifts the bag.
“You don’t have to help. Some guys from the team are coming over as soon as their classes are over.”
She shrugs again. “I might need to get my textbook soon, anyway.”
I shake my head and laugh at the words, knowing I’ll be recycling them, and grab two bags. I follow her back up the walk to the house. “So, what was your vote?”
“My vote?” she asks, eyeing the spider again as we pass it.
“About my moving into the basement.”