Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 317(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 317(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Cammie heads for her laptop.
“Things got weird.” I cross my arms, then drop them at my sides. “And I don’t know why.”
Cammie sighs and tips her head up, eyes on the ceiling.
“What happened down there?”
She drops into the desk chair and spins to face me, tucking her hands into her pockets.
“I have schoolwork, and it wasn’t like I was part of the conversations when you were walking down post-party lane. I don’t know any of the people you were talking about. I don’t get invited to parties, Chase, and usually I’m fine with that. I’m used to not fitting in, but shining a light on that doesn’t seem like it’ll be a lot of fun for me or you.”
“You can come to a party with me, then you’ll know more people.” I realize I’ve never done this before. Tried to make someone I like feel included, and based on how unhappy Cammie looks, I’m not all that great at it. But I could get better.
“Is that really what you want? Because honestly, the way that rolled out down there made me sound like your hookup.” She tugs on the string of her hoodie. “Which, I mean, I kind of am considering what’s gone down in this room.”
“That’s not...I didn’t mean...you’re not—” I think back to the way I introduced her.
She shrugs. “It’s okay, Chase. I’m not throwing shade, but you’re already kind of a legend. And if I looked like you, I’d probably hook up all over the place, too.”
I rub the back of my neck. “I haven’t hooked up with that many girls.”
She gives me a look.
“I mean…” For the past two months, most weekends have included a party. I’d meet some girl, we’d have some fun, and at the end of the night, I’d go home with my friends and the girl went home with her friends and that’s that. Maybe I see a former hookup on campus and wave and say hi and then make an excuse about having class or practice. Shit. I’m kind of a douchebag.
“You don’t get that good at giving orgasms by practicing on a pocket pussy.” Cammie sighs. “I like you, Chase, but I’m kind of a fucking weirdo who would rather rewatch Return of the King a hundred times than play beer pong in my underwear.”
“I like your weird, though.” I leave the beer pong comment alone because I’ve done that mostly naked. I was in board shorts, though.
She smiles, but it looks sad, and I don’t like it.
Both our phones chime.
Cammie pulls hers out of her hoodie. “Looks like we can go back to the dorms.”
“Now?” I ask.
She nods and gives me a small smile. “Guess we should pack up.” She stands and turns away as she crosses the room and grabs her backpack, tucking her laptop and other random items into it.
“But what about the deal we made? I owe you another orgasm.” I know this is the wrong thing to offer, but I’m unsure how to fix this. I thought I had more time with her. What if this hotel room is all we’ll ever have?
Before I drop to my knees and do something worse, like beg Cammie for the opportunity to bury my fingers and my face in her pussy before we leave, there’s a knock on our door. “It’s Colby, your resident advisor.”
Cammie skirts around me and throws the door open, already wearing her backpack.
“Lovett and Lovelock, you’ve been released back to the dor—” His eyes flare as he takes in Cammie standing before him and me, still standing by the rumpled bed, the broken pullout couch behind me. There is no way I can broaden my stance wide enough to hide it. “What the fudge is going on in here? Where’s your roommate, Lovett?”
“I’m standing right here.” Cammie points to herself. “I’m Cameron Lovelock. Cammie for short.” She points to me. “And that’s Chase Lovett, which you and the rest of the campus already know.”
“But, but.” The color drains from Colby’s face as he glances between us. “Why didn’t either of you report the error? I would have reassigned one of you.”
I tuck my hand into my pocket. “I did try to tell you, but you were dealing with a crier and told me it would have to wait until morning. We handled the situation on our own.”
“But the couch is broken. How did the couch get broken?”
“Chase dove onto it once we set it up and it didn’t survive him,” Cammie explains flatly as a flush works its way up her neck and into her cheeks.
“You only had one bed,” Colby states.
“Yes,” Cammie and I say at the same time.
“Chase, I need to speak to you in the hall.” Colby tries to sound authoritative but his voice is all pitchy.
“I’m heading out so you two can have whatever discussion you need to have inside the room. I’ll report the broken couch to the front desk.”