{18+ COLLEGE ROMANCE COMPLETED}
What sucks more than being rejected by the girl of your dreams? Finding out afterward that she's moving in with you.
****
The night that Beau Martin spends with Collins Bryant is the best one of his life. He wants to...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I watched as the confident piano man lured Nessa out onto the dance floor, grinning to myself.
Girl was trying so damn hard not to be happy about the situation she was in right now, but I saw right through it. He'd swooped in like a savior, and as much as Nessa might insist that she didn't need saving, she was trying way too hard to hide her grin.
Grayson saved me, too. Honestly. Madie was off with Bren, Nessa was occupied with him, and now I could focus on my date.
My gaze swept back to Collins, only to find her squinting at me.
"Are you a model?"
I snorted. "Am I a model?"
"Yeah, you know. People who pose for money."
"I love how you just complimented me and then insulted my intelligence in under thirty seconds."
She gave me a slight, secretive grin. The booze had been working its way through her; I could tell. And so far, being tipsy only made her more adorable.
"Just trying to keep you on your toes, Beau."
I leaned back in my chair, grinning at her. "I can appreciate that."
Collins took another sip of her drink, and I took a steadying breath when her eyes didn't leave mine. She was making me feel drunker than any alcohol ever had.
"You didn't answer my question," she pointed out.
Laughing, I shook my head. "No, I'm not a model."
A perfect eyebrow raised. "You could be."
Maybe it was time to cut her off.
—
The shuffling of feet alerted me that someone was coming down the hallway, and I knew exactly who it was.
Collins stuck to her routine like it was her lifeline. She always got up at seven-thirty, even on the weekends. Her alarm usually woke me up, too, but I didn't mind. It was my little bit of solace in the mornings, listening to her drag her feet down the hall and punch buttons on the coffee maker until the gradual drips of brewing filled the quiet apartment. She usually shuffled back to her room after that, her door closing with a faint click.
Fuck, I sounded creepy. That sounded downright creepy, and I should probably just find a new place to live right now.
But I couldn't. I wouldn't.
When the footsteps stopped on the other side of the kitchen, I didn't look up. I already knew what would happen when I did, and frankly, I wasn't prepared to deal with that this morning.
"Oh, hey."
She sounded breathless. Surprised to see me. Which made sense because I wasn't usually in the kitchen at this time. Even though I heard her door open every day at seven-thirty, I always waited until it closed again before venturing to get my own coffee.
