Page 4 of The Road to Finding Us

“I’m so sorry!” My mind finally catches up with exactly what just happened. I fly forward, going to pat him where I hit him to make sure he’s okay. I’ve spent about ten seconds patting the area when I realize I’m literally patting his dick.

OH MY GOD. KILL ME NOW.

“I think you’ve done enough damage,” he says, his voice coming out a little hoarse, probably because he’s still recovering from my fist to his man parts. He gently swats my hand away.

“I was just trying to help,” I respond, stepping away from him and taking a good look at him.

Damn, he’s hot. Even if he is still hunched over recovering from the blow, his face red with pain.

From what I can tell, his blond hair is buzzed short. A baseball cap sits on top of his head, hiding the rest of his hair. He has a deep indent in the middle of his chin, one I can’t stop staring at. My eyes travel from the indent and pause on his full lips. They’re moving, saying something I don’t hear because I’m too busy ogling him.

Fingers snap in front of my face, catching my attention. “Can you hear?” the stranger asks, looking at me like something is wrong with me.

“Yes, I can freaking hear,” I snap, putting my hands on my hips. It appears he’s recovered, because he’s standing at his full height now. He may be shorter than Maverick, but not by a whole lot.

“How the hell would I have known? You weren’t responding.”

Well, darn. This guy has a bit of douchey tendencies—which I freaking love—but I promised I would stay away from guys like him in college.

Goodbye, high school Lily. Hello, college Lily. A damn shame, though, because he looks exactly like my type.

“I just didn’t have anything to say,” I retort, crossing my arms over my chest and sizing him up.

Selma makes a squeak a few feet away, causing us to look away from each other and over at her.

“Okay, goodbye then!” I say, heading toward Selma, hoping she’ll get her short legs moving because I need to get away from this dude until I do something stupid like take my pants off for him or give him my phone number.

This time, I’m the one pulling her down the hallway. I have no idea where Maverick’s dorm room is, I just have to get away from the hot guy I just hit in the balls.

“Wait, that’s it?” Hot Guy I Hit in the Balls yells from down the hallway.

I use the hand that isn’t wrapped tightly around Selma’s tiny wrist to give him a quick wave, my feet still racing down the hallway.

Unfortunately, someone somewhere hates me, because when I turn around, I find that Hot Guy I Hit in the Balls has stopped in front of a door at the same time my twin brother walks out of said door.

“Selma? Lily?” Maverick questions hesitantly, stepping around the guy to look at the two of us.

“Uh, hi,” Selma mutters, retracing her steps to go hug Maverick.

But me? My feet are planted, my body immobile and in a silent stare off with Hot Guy I Hit in the Balls—apparently also known as Maverick’s Roommate.

This is bad.

Holy flocking flamingos this is bad.

“Hi. I’m Aspen, Maverick’s roommate,” Hot Guy I Hit in the Balls—or Aspen, I guess—says, as he reaches out a toned arm to shake Selma’s hand.

Selma quietly introduces herself, her eyes darting between the two of us.

I’m going to be seeing a lot of this guy because of course he’s Mav’s roommate.

Oh, flock me.

3

Aspen

Past - Age Eighteen

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