Page 155 of Damaged Protector

Turning away, I exited the student housing office and quiet-screamed while stamping my feet in frustration. A girl with a bright-purple bob gave me the side-eye and cut a wide berth around me.

“Fuck off,” I muttered under my breath, taking the stairs down to the first floor. “What a nightmare.” I trudged across campus to fucking Manning Hall with my dorm key card in my pocket.

The sounds of music and partying drifted down the hallway as I found my room on the first floor. Great, it’s started already. My eyes flitted around the room. It was a double, one twin bed on each side of the room, with two dressers and two closets. A small bookshelf sat in the corner, but there wasn’t even a damn desk. And we had to share a bathroom. The dorm room I was supposed to be in had a shared living space, but each student had their own bedroom and bathroom for privacy.

“This sucks,” I told the empty room as I sank onto one of the tiny beds and set my backpack on the floor beside me. I pulled out my laptop and quickly filled out the dormitory change request form before anyone else got in front of me. Just as I hit Send, my phone rang, and I pulled it out to see that Cam was calling.

“Hey, we’re pulling into the parking lot. Did you get your room key?”

I tried not to sound as weary as I felt. “Yes, but there’s a change of plans. There was a mix-up or something, and I’ve been placed in Manning. It’s near parking lot 34-A.”

“Okay, hold on a sec. Hawk, we need to go to lot 34-A.” Even the sound of his name made my heart thump with excitement. I heard rustling and knew he was looking at the campus map. “Let’s see, that’s down that road and to the left.”

“On it,” I heard Hawk’s deep reply.

“I’ll meet you down there,” I said, standing and placing my card in the back pocket of my jean shorts before heading outside again.

An hour later, Cam and Hawk had carried all of my storage bins inside, and I was unpacking so Hawk could store them in his garage. This room was really fucking small.

My cousin was in the tiny bathroom, putting away my towels and toiletries while Hawk was helping me store my clothes.

“Mal, you want your shampoo and shit in the shower or on this shelf?” Cam called as Hawk grabbed a handful of my underwear and put them in the top drawer of the dresser.

“The shelf is fine,” I called back, widening my eyes when Hawk picked up my purple thong and stuffed it down the front of his pants. I hissed, “What are you doing?”

“I don’t have any purple ones in my Mallori collection.” His grin was pure wickedness. “I prefer ones you’ve already worn, but this will have to do.”

I lifted an eyebrow. “And how many collections do you have.”

He tilted my chin up with gentle fingers, his lips almost touching mine. “Only yours, baby.” Fuck, why is he so hot? We jerked apart just in time as Cam walked back into the room.

“So where’s your roommate?” he asked.

“They staggered the move-in times so everyone wouldn’t be trying to get their stuff moved at the same time. She should be here this afternoon.”

“Do you know her name or anything about her?” my cousin asked, attempting to sound casual. He probably wanted to run a damn background check on her or something.

“I know nothing because I wasn’t even supposed to be in this dorm.”

“Huh.” He stuck his hands into his pants pockets and rocked back on his heels. “You about done? I thought I’d take you to lunch.”

My heart swelled with happiness. I didn’t want to be here alone. I was already missing Hawk, and he hadn’t even left yet. “Yeah, all done.”

Cam nudged his friend. “That okay with you, or do you have plans?”

Hawk’s eyes held mine. “I don’t have any plans.”

I had just arranged my textbooks on the top shelf of the bookcase when I heard the door click open. Standing, I put on a smile to greet my roommate. I’d had a good cry after Hawk and Cam dropped me off, and then I gave myself a kick-ass pep talk that did little to improve my mood. But I was trying.

“Hi, I’m Mallori,” I said cheerily to the girl who entered. She had an asymmetrical haircut, completely shaved on one side of her head and pitch-black locks hanging just below her other ear.

She gave me a once-over and then rolled her eyes. “‘Starla,” she muttered, placing a camo duffel bag on her bed.

A guy followed her in, sporting a matching haircut and several piercings on his face. He looked me up and down before toying with the ring in his bottom lip with his tongue. His gaze creeped me out a little, but I gave him a smile.

“And you are?”

“Donner.”

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