Chapter 25 Lane #2
While she takes in her surroundings, I watch her biting her lip, batting back flashbacks to the sounds she made when I slipped my tongue into her.
It was just sex. That’s what I try to keep telling myself—but if I’m being honest, she got under my skin, and now I really don’t know how to get her back out.
“Okay, let’s do it.”
I need to get this done and dusted.
A tall guy introduces himself as the resident adviser and leads us from the front desk up to the third floor, opening the door and turning around to face us with a smile.
“It’s a triple—you’ll be sharing with two other students, so let me just tell you what I already told them: no overnight boyfriends.”
He looks at me, as if to say, “Listen, dude, if your sorry ass finds its way up here, I’ll know about it.” This guy knows his nonverbal communication.
“We’re not together,” I tell him, shooting him a smile that translates to “But if I want to fuck her here, I’ll do what I want, asshole.” That was a mistake—fresh visions of me and Lois go flashing through my mind.
He leads us through the room, ticking off the features as we go. “Bed. Shower. Desk.”
“It’s tiny.”
“I don’t think so.” Lois turns around, taking in the space. “It does the job.”
The RA glances at her. “No drilling holes in the wall, by the way.”
I stroll over to the window and gaze outside.
“It’s so green!” Lois presses her forehead to the glass. “Check out that view!”
I spin around. The guy has gone, leaving the door open in his wake.
I turn back, peering through the glass at the park.
“It feels a little shady to me. Look at that guy, over there—I’m getting bad vibes.”
She shifts to get a better view, pressing her arm into mine, her fingers clasping the window a breath away from my hand. I should scoot over, but I’m frozen to the spot.
“The guy sitting on the bench by himself? Eating a salad?”
“Textbook psycho behavior—what kind of dude eats salad on a bench?” I ask. “A pervert, that’s who.”
“Oh, please! The light here is great—plus, there’s a bus stop right there.”
I don’t know who she’s trying to convince, but I’m not buying what she’s selling. I hate this place. It’s small, it’s ugly, and it reeks of cheap perfume. Lois glances over my shoulder, so close I could kiss her without even leaning in.
“And the other girls seem nice.” She eyes up their things. “See—one of them has a swimsuit! We could hit the pool together.”
Just as I’m about to roll my eyes, she glares at me.
“Quit the attitude. Isn’t this what you’ve been waiting for since August?”
No.
“Yeah.”
She carries on staring at me, and I step toward her just as she moves to the side, sitting herself down on the mattress, bouncing up and down, trying it out for size. She flicks on the ugliest bedside lamp I’ve ever seen and pulls open the closet.
“A bed and a closet,” she sighs happily. “Everything I ever dreamed of.”
“The toilet is in the shower,” I continue. “And I mean that literally.”
“What’s with the snobby rich-kid attitude? Most students live in dorms, you know.” She puts on a fancy accent. “Not everyone has your pedigree.”
She shuts the closet, and somehow the RA’s back already.
“So,” he starts, “you like it?”
“Yes!”
“No.”
We reply at exactly the same time, and Lois shoots me a look.
“I like it,” she insists. “And anyway, it’s not like I have options. So, now what?”
“Come on down to my office and I’ll give you the paperwork and checklist. You’ll need to sign a housing contract, too—I need everything by tomorrow. Just bring your stuff with you, and we’ll get you all moved in on the same day.”
“Amazing.”
We traipse down to the first floor, and while Lois heads into the office, I wait in the car.
I need time to think. So—she could be moving in tomorrow?
Fuck. They don’t waste time, huh? I thought I’d have the weekend to get used to the idea.
I drape my arms over the steering wheel and rest my head against the leather, breathing in the comforting smell and swallowing back on the knot that’s tightening in my throat.
Lois is leaving, but that doesn’t change a thing.
Does it? We’re friends, we can still hang out on campus—I could even come by and pick her up every morning.
Nothing’s going to change between us. Plus, it might help me shake off some of the urges I’ve been having.
A fresh start! The only reason I’ve been weirdly into her lately is the fact that she’s in my face every day.
And that she’s obsessed with her stupid ex. Her moving out could change all that.
A door slams, and I jerk my head up. Lois trots over to the car and slides into her seat.
“Thanks for waiting.”
“No problem.”
“I don’t want you to miss class, you know. Just drop me off at campus and I’ll walk home.”
“No, I’m gonna head back with you.”
“Are you okay?” She frowns. “You look weird.”
She stretches out a hand. Changes her mind. Her eyes search mine, like she’s hoping I’ll say something, and for a fleeting moment, her gaze drifts down to my lips and desire pounds through me. Seriously, this needs to stop.
“Yeah, I’m okay. Don’t forget your belt.”
She clips herself in, and our ride back feels just like the drive over to the dorm, except this time I’m even more stressed.
As we stroll from the parking lot to the apartment, her arm brushes against mine with every step.
I can hear her sighing, shooting me confused looks as we make our way to the front steps.
“I hate it when you’re like this,” she bursts out.
We take the elevator up. Slowly, my eyes move to meet hers.
“Like what?”
“Moody. Shut down.”
“Winter break is over, Lois. I’m bummed—that’s all.”
She chews on her nail. As soon as I step into the apartment, I make a beeline for the fridge and grab myself a beer, leaning against the kitchen sink, swigging from the bottle as I stare into space.
“Can I wash some clothes? That way all my stuff will be clean for tomorrow.”
I nod, and bring the bottle to my lips. She really can’t wait to be out of here, can she?
She sighs again and heads back to the bathroom, returning a few minutes later, standing over her bags, staring down at her things.
“Well, at least we won’t need two trips.” She smiles at me. “That’s a plus!”
She crouches down and starts rifling through her shit. Watching her get ready to leave is putting me in the worst mood ever. There’s a knock at the door and she jumps up, racing over to open it up.
“Hey, Carter!”
“I just swung by to pick up Lane’s notes. Feeling any better?”
Great. Just what I needed. The one person who can vibe-check me in a second flat. Carter wanders into the living room, watching as Lois turns back to her bags.
“All good, Laney?”
“Never better.”
“Are you sick?” He tilts his head, sizing me up.
“Nope.”
He purses his lips, grabs a beer from the fridge, and joins me by the sink, jutting his chin at Lois.
“What the hell is she doing? Did you finally make a little space for her stuff?”
I don’t answer right away. Watching her crouch on the floor like that, I realize I did her wrong. I should have given her a shelf somewhere. A drawer of her own. And now it’s too late.
“She’s leaving.” My words echo down the bottle neck.
“What?!” His eyes search mine. “But why?”
“She finally got her dorm room.”
“Finally?”
“That was the deal,” I snap.
I collapse onto the couch and turn on the TV. Carter rushes over to join me.
“Lane, why—”
“Just stop.”
I know what he’s going to say, and no: the spare room still isn’t spare.
He rolls his eyes. “Fine. Just don’t come crying to me about it later.”
“This isn’t a big deal, Cart. Honest. Nothing’s going to change.”
“Sure. Whatever you say.” He drains his beer and scoops up the notes. “I’ll swing by at the end of the week.”
“Yeah.”
“Catch you later, Lois.” He glances at me knowingly. “How about we throw you a little party to celebrate the good news?”
She gives him a small smile. “Yeah, sure. Thanks, Carter.”
As he leaves, I catch him snickering to himself.
He knows that deep down, I’m crushed—and I can hardly believe it myself.
This is ridiculous. Living alone has always been my thing, so why is my stomach dropping as I watch her fold away her T-shirts?
She could at least pretend to be a little sad, couldn’t she? I suddenly want to kick her bag over.
“I’m going to my room,” I growl.
I can’t handle this anymore.
I spend two hours doomscrolling, desperately trying to distract myself—but the stupid videos aren’t working.
I fall back onto my bed. I wanted her to say that she hates her new room.
That she doesn’t want to go, that she wants to stay right here.
But she hasn’t said she’s sad to be leaving.
Not once. And now I’m stuck wondering whether I was the only one who actually enjoyed living together. And everything that came with it.