“Whoa," Brit breathed, handing my drink back to me. "That was...""Really hot," Jacob finished. "I thought you two were going to rip off each other's clothes and start making babies right here on the dirty, beer covered floor. Like I was going to have to start charging admission for what was about to go down.”

“Did he only wear a shirt during class? Oh my God, he seriously lived across the hall. Jacob was going to flip... and probably move in. That would be fun. I really liked Jacob, but I had a feeling he'd borrow my clothes.”

“You can not drop astronomy. To get through this semester, I must live vicariously through you and hear about Cam at least three days a week.""I'm not going to drop the class-" Even though I sort of wanted to. "-But I doubt I'm going to have anything to tell you. It's not like we're even going to talk again."Jacob let go of my arm and sat back, eyeing me. "Famous last words, Avery.”

“Sleep just go to sleep.Cam lived across the hall?You need to get up early. Go to sleep.How in the world was that possible? He was everywhere I went.Go to sleep.And why did he have a pet turtle and did he seriously name it after the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, because that was kind of funny.Morning's going to come soon.Did he only wear a shirt during class? Oh my God, he seriously lived across the hall. Jacob was going to flip...and probably move in. That would be fun. I really liked Jacob, but I had a feeling he'd borrow my clothes.Go the fuck to sleep.”

“Yo! Cam!” Beer Guy jumped off the porch and jogged down the sidewalk, passing me a quick look. “What you up to, man?”Saved by the frat boy. Cam’s gaze didn’t veer from me, but his grin started to slip. “Nothing, Kevin, just trying to have a conversation.”

“You do know him, so that's a lame excuse."It was a lame excuse, but it was the best I had. "How do you really ever truly know someone?"Brit smacked her hands to her cheeks and she shook her head. "He's not a serial killer.""Speaking of serial killers, everyone thought Ted Bundy was a really charming, handsome man. And look how he turned out. Psycho."Jacob stared at me. "He's not Ted Bundy.”

“Racing up the wide staircase, I barreled through the double doors and smacked right into a brick wall.Stumbling backward, my arms flailed like a cracked-out crossing guard. My over-packed messenger bag slipped, pulling me to one side. My hairflew it front of my face, a sheet of auburn that obscured everything as I teetered dangerously.Oh dear God, I was going down. There was no stopping it. Visions of broken necks danced in my head. This was going to suck so—Something strong and hard went around my waist, stopping my free fall. My bag hit the floor, spilling overpriced books and pens across the shinyfloor. My pens! My glorious pens rolled everywhere. A second later I was pressed against the wall.The wall was strangely warm.The wall chuckled.“Whoa,” a deep voice said. “You okay, sweetheart?”