Page 6 of Reverse Pass
“Ben? He was always a good kid.”
“Yeah, he is. But he took the fall for some other guys, and they suspended him from the team. They’re still deciding on how long for.”
“Wow. I’m sorry to hear that,” I say, still unsure how I figure into the scenario or why it’s urgent for me to know.
“Yeah. He’s going to have to bust ass to get back in their good graces. But the worst part is he also lost the place where he was living in the process.”
“What? Can they do that?”
“Apparently, yes. They had a huge party, did some damage. The cops were called, and so it effectively broke the lease.”
“And now he has nowhere to go I’m guessing?”
“Right.”
“Yeah. He can come stay with me for a few days. I don’t think my roommate would mind too much. And we already put the bed back in there out of storage.”
“It might need to be more than a few days. Like a couple weeks? He’s talking to the athletic department to see if they can find him housing for the rest of the semester, but they said it might take a while.”
“That might be a harder sell. But I can talk to her and text you back. Definitely a few days to give him a place for now though.”
“All right. I’ll tell him. He’s in a hotel until tomorrow. Is that too soon?”
“No. The room’s ready. He’ll just have to come by when one of us is home. After I talk to Joss, I’ll give you her number too. That way he can get a hold of one of us.”
“Thank you, Violet. You’re a lifesaver. He’ll be so grateful. I love you!”
“Of course. You guys are family.”
“All right. Text me and I’ll let him know. We need to talk soon! Lots to catch you up on.”
“Yes, let’s do it. Love you, Nora. Bye.”
“Love you! Bye!”
We hang up, and I stare at my phone for a second as I contemplate the potential consequences of what I’ve agreed to. I’m so swamped with school and exhibits and all the grading work from my teacher’s assistantship. Taking on a new roommate, one who might need supervision if he was throwing parties that got raided by the cops, is more than I bargained for right now. I just hope Ben is the good kid I remember. I probably should have asked more questions before I agreed, but I also can’t say no to Nora.
THREE
Violet
When I get homein the evening I can barely think straight. I’m starving, tired, and more than a little hangry. I got wrangled into a much longer than necessary meeting with one of my advisors when they decided to give me a rundown of the ins and outs of the politics of academia. All thanks to one of my undergrads complaining about my grading rubric which had landed me in their office in the first place.
“Thanks for that,” I mutter to the student who likely doesn’t even remember me in the first place.
So when I walk in the door and throw my bags down in the hallway to take my boots off, I don’t immediately notice the intruder. It’s not until the distinct sound of a male voice humming drifts out from the kitchen and into the hallway that all the hairs on the back of my neck go up. Cam was obviously long gone, and Joss’s hookups never stuck around, and certainly never made their way into the kitchen. My mind reels, trying to make sense of it and decide whether or not to call for help.
If it was one of Joss’s hookups, it was either way too late or way too early, however you looked at it, for them to be in the apartment. Plus, they usually had the common decency to slink out the door without making their presence known. Dallying about in the kitchen? Nope. Singing and humming? Not a thing they ever did.
I don’t recall her saying we needed maintenance either, which really only left the possibility we were getting robbed. But robbers don’t typically hum their way through an old punk song in your kitchen while they work to steal from you, do they?
I stop dead in my tracks when I reach the end of the hall and my jaw nearly hits the floor. He is definitely not a robber—or at least not a conventional one.
Because a tall, shirtless man is standing in our kitchen—cooking. Gorgeous dark brown hair, at least a half a foot taller than me if not more, he takes up the entirety of our small kitchen with his broad frame. His tattooed shoulders are sculpted with muscles, his shoulder blades and biceps working in time below them, chopping food to the beat of his humming. It all tapers down to a cut waist where his back tattoo disappears below his low-slung gray sweatpants. I squint, trying to make out the tattoos when he dips over to search through a lower cabinet. And for the record, his ass is just as phenomenal as the rest of his body.
We’d had someone accidentally walk into our apartment before, but I can’t imagine getting undressed and starting to cook before you realize you’re in the wrong place. So he must be Joss related. And Joss is insanely lucky. In fact, my mind might be changed about picking up random guys at bars if Joss could tell me where she found ones like this. I was going to be giving her a hard time about holding out on me.
I let myself enjoy the show for another few seconds before I remember how exhausted and hungry I am. And seeing as this guy is already hers and she is nowhere to be found, I had no time for a veritable stranger rooting around in our cabinets, making a mess, and creating dishes. If he was hungry, he could grab a burger on the way home.
