Page 139 of Unspoken Rules

Once home, I shower and change, then quickly get dressed to meet everyone downstairs. This is my first time going out at night in Boston, so I’m sure it’ll be an experience.

“Bryson’s here!” Toby shouts. He’s the loud one. Borderline annoying, but it’s also slightly endearing. He’s high energy. Like a golden retriever.

A few of the guys slap me on the back when I reach them. “Am I the last one?”

“Nah, Max is still messing with his hair,” Toby says. A few people laugh, including myself.

Max has long hair that always looks way too nice. The guy clearly spends hours on it, and he always gets shit for it.

“Has anyone talked to him?” Chance asks, looking at his phone. “Should we start requesting rides?”

“I’ll call him,” Anthony offers, pulling his phone from his pocket.

“You miss home yet?” Westley asks, stepping to my side.

Out of all the guys who came here, he and I are the closest. And we aren’t really close at all, just chat more than I do with others, but never about anything serious. I hardly know anything about the guy, but I like talking to him. We also live on the same floor, so we run into one another often. Seems we do our laundry on the same day, even when we do it on a different day of the week. Somehow, we always end up in the basement laundry room together and it’s become sort of a joke between the two of us now.

“This is my home,” I say.

He smirks, shoulder-bumping me. “Yeah, but back home.”

I shake my head. “Didn’t really have anything there.”

“So this is a good change for you then.”

“Absolutely. How about you?”

“Miss my little brother, but I’m planning on flying him out here in a few weeks before he goes back to school in September.”

“How old is he?”

“Seventeen. Starting his senior year.”

“Shitty times,” I say with a laugh.

He chuckles too. “Tell me about it. Not for him though. He’s so different from me and you. You know, not the nerdy type.”

I gasp, putting my hand on my chest. “I am not nerdy.”

He gives me the are you serious? look. “You’re a graphic designer, Bryson. You’re a nerd.”

I roll my eyes.

“Easton is a total jo—”

“Whoa,” I say, putting up a hand to stop him.

“No, I already know what you’re going to say,” he adds. “Get it all the time. Yes, our parents named us Westley and Easton. No, I don’t want to talk about it.”

I roll my lips between my teeth to stop myself from smiling. “All right then. Please continue.”

“I was just saying that he’s a jock and will probably end up with a scholarship to some fancy school. May even play in the NFL one day.”

“No shit?” He nods proudly. “That’s awesome.”

Everyone whooping startles me. I turn to see the guys facing toward the elevators. There’s Max, looking as perfect as ever.

He’s hot, I won’t deny it. Amazing body, nearly perfect bone structure, and he’s humble as hell. And yes, his hair makes me want to run my fingers through it. It’s long, thick, and wavy. He takes great care of it, but I’m pretty sure he’s as straight as they come. Not that I’d ever hook up with someone from work, but still. I can look.

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