Page 31 of Frat House Fling

And then I found it.

The best thing I could’ve possibly found in this entire house.

It was a bathroom. A clean, empty, unused bathroom. As far as I could tell, it was directly over the one I’d been using downstairs but so much better. It had a shower stall instead of a bathtub, but otherwise it looked very much the same—except clean. With no cans of shaving cream on the counter. And no globs of toothpaste in the sink.

Could I use this? I didn’t see why not. Nobody else was.

I couldn’t help grinning. This almost made up for having to deal with Bennett and his state of undress. Almost. But I was almost giddy with excitement at having a private bathroom. It wasn’t just here that I had to share—I’d had to the whole time I’d stayed at Tori’s apartment, too. I’d gotten up super early there so I wouldn’t prevent any of Tori’s roommates from using the bathroom when they wanted to.

After ditching the cleaning supplies, I went back to my room. As always, it was cold in there, so I left the door open, hoping that warmer air would come in from the hallway. Then I sat on the edge of the bed, just thinking about things. Was this my life now? A life where the things that made me happy were finding a bathroom and not having to tidy up the bedroom of a man who still made me clean the rest of the suite and generally considered it his mission in life to make me miserable?

Yes, apparently so.

As I looked around, it occurred to me that I actually had a little time to myself during the day for once. At least until Bennett or Grant located me and gave me a chore. I was tired of cleaning, but it would probably be a pretty good idea to do laundry—except I hadn’t seen the area yet. Presumably it was in the basement, but that was a big place.

Since I didn’t have a hamper or basket, I piled my dirty clothes into my duffel bag. Just when I was about to head out, I saw someone walk past the door.

I poked my head out into the hall. It was Ian.

“Can you tell me where the laundry room is, please?”

He turned back, not looking quite as irritable as he had earlier.

“It’s in the basement. Take the kitchen stairs down and hang a left.”

“Thank you.” I hesitated. “It’s okay for me to use it, right?” I sounded pathetic asking, but I’d been staying with other peopleso long that it was second nature to ask permission for those kinds of things.

“Of course.”

“Thanks,” I said again. Then I looked at him for a moment. He still looked tired. “Are you all right? This morning you seemed kind of… tense.”

He raked his hand through his hair, and I could see why it was so tousled before.

“Yes. Just be glad you don’t have to deal with a full course load of classes.”

Even though he couldn’t know I was a student, his words stung. He seemed to realize that, and his expression softened.

“Not that working multiple jobs isn’t hard, too.”

It hurt that he assumed I couldn’t handle classes—even though I wasn’t actually handling the one that I was taking this summer very well. But he hadn’t meant anything bad. And I knew what it was like to be tired and crabby after studying hard.

“Well, good luck with those classes,” I said.

“Thanks.”

He headed down the hallway. I picked up my duffel bag and hoped that there was detergent downstairs. Surely there was. I didn’t expect the frat to have a coin-operated laundry. But then I jumped as Ian reappeared and stuck his head in my doorway.

“And Hailey? When you go downstairs, stick to the left. The washers and dryers are all the way at the end of the hallway.”

“Okay, thanks,” I said as I watched him leave. Now I was really curious about what else was on that side of the basement.

I was good and followed Ian’s instructions. I carried my clothes straight down the hallway, even though I was curious about some of the rooms leading off to the right. But then I reached the laundry room and was pleased to find it both empty and clean. There were two large-capacity washers and dryers in a well-lit space with sturdy counters for folding clothes. Notbad, especially since I’d been using the laundromat while I was staying with Tori and her roommates.

After putting my clothes in the washer, I looked around some more. One side of the room—the side behind the door—led to some kind of utility closet. Probably water heaters and whatever. And somewhere around here, I could only assume there was an air conditioner the size of a bus that kept this place so cold all summer.

There were some hooks on the wall, and one of them held a hanger with a white button-down shirt on it. I plucked it off the wall, examining it. It was just a plain dress shirt, but the material was a nice quality. Guess that wasn’t too hard to believe, knowing the kind of wealth the men who lived here had.

What was surprising was that it was pretty small. There was no way it would fit any of the men who lived upstairs. It likely had been left by someone who lived here during the spring semester.

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