Page 98 of Faking It Right
Jagger strutted in, holding an expensive bottle of tequila aloft like a trophy, followed closely by Bryce, who declared, “The party has arrived!”
“And we brought the good stuff,” Jagger added, shaking the bottle, “because we’re not animals who drink whatever swill you usually serve.” His family was loaded, so he always supplied the top-shelf alcohol to our get-togethers.
Harley accepted the bottle with an exaggerated bow. “Your contribution to civilization is duly noted.”
Bryce’s eyes swept over me, his expression turning sly. “Looks like someone’s sexual drought ended with a flood. You’ve got that ‘my dry spell is officially over’ glow, honey.”
I reflexively began to deny it. “What? No, I?—”
“Leave him alone,” Harley chided, throwing an arm around my shoulders. “He’s nervous enough already.”
Bryce raised an eyebrow, looking between us with growing interest. “Nervous about what?”
Thankfully, another knock saved me from answering. I scrambled to answer the door.
Senna waltzed in with a container. Her dark hair was piled into her signature messy bun. “Surprising no one, I came home and stress-baked after surviving a week with my mother,” she explained, setting the box onto the coffee table. “Enjoy my triple chocolate chunk cookies with sea salt. Each one contains approximately four hours of repressed familial trauma and a dash of passive-aggressive comments about my career choices.”
Harley reached for one. “Ooh, the trauma makes them extra yummy.”
She turned to me, narrowing her eyes. “What’s up with you? Your energy is all over the place.”
“Nothing,” I denied too quickly. “I’m fine.”
“Bullshit.” She grabbed a beer from Fenway’s six-pack. “But I’ll wait until everyone’s here to pry it out of you.”
Gage arrived last, looking exhausted but happy.
“Sorry I’m late.” Gage held up a bag of chips as a peace offering. “Training ran long.”
“How many lives did you save today?” Jagger asked, already pouring tequila shots.
“None,” Gage answered, dropping into an armchair. “Unless you count Ace when he almost passed out while I practiced sticking him with a needle. He’s brave enough to run into a burning building to save someone’s life, but he’s not a fan of minor pain, apparently.”
Everyone laughed, falling into the easy camaraderie of our friendship. They sprawled out across our living room, occupying the couch, love seat, and floor space with the familiarity of people who’d shared countless nights hanging out at our home base.
Jagger launched into a story about a guy he’d hooked up with over break, complete with dramatic reenactments that had everyone in stitches. Bryce kept interrupting with increasingly outrageous questions while Senna rolled her eyes and provided snarky commentary.
“Speaking of weird shit, you won’t believe what else happened to me,” Jagger continued.
“Did you go one whole day without having sex?” Bryce asked, snagging one of Senna’s cookies.
“Ha ha,” Jagger said sarcastically. “No, I came back to the dorm after break to discover Tyler moved out while I was gone.”
“Your roommate?” Fenway asked in surprise. “He didn’t give you a heads-up before you left for break?”
“Nope, he didn’t say a word to me.”
Gage wrinkled his eyebrows in confusion. “Maybe he’s late coming back for some reason?”
“No, he’s gone-gone. All his stuff has disappeared, his mattress is bare, and his entire closet is empty.” Jagger looked more thrilled than upset about the development. “That means no more passive-aggressive notes about dishes in the sink or complaints about my ‘nocturnal activities.’”
“Oh my god, the possibilities,” Bryce sighed dramatically. “Think of all the guys you can bring home now without worrying about traumatizing your roommate.”
“Bold of you to assume he ever worried about that,” Senna said, making everyone laugh. “I’m pretty sure traumatizing Tyler was half the fun for him. How many times have we heard about him stumbling in on you in compromising positions?”
Jagger smirked. “Fourteen, but who’s counting? Besides, he should have knocked.”
“In the kitchen?” Gage asked incredulously. “How? You don’t have a door there.”
