Page 25 of Into Ruin

I groan into my pillow, mouth open, the fabric smothering the noise.

The sensation drifts away, and I sag.

Can’t say I’ve had that happen too many times.

The air mattress held up surprisingly well overnight. Once my muscles aren’t jelly, I fling myself off and into a standing position. My toes hit my shorts, and I pause.

I went to sleep with them on. I always do.

Jeez. Was I so horny I pushed them off?

My face heats, and I quickly put them back on. I grab my phone and scan it, and a chill runs through me. I never opened the text from the unknown number last night, and it still stares at me from my lock screen.

I blocked Max’s number after graduation, half convinced I’d never see him again. It didn’t matter that he didn’t leave.Iwasleaving. My friends back home knew to keep their mouths shut, and everyone else didn’t matter.

Running into him at the game was a worst-case-scenario situation I had never even prepared for. Of course, the number that texted me is totally different from the one I still have blocked. Did he get a new one so he could contact me again?

A new text comes in, but this one is welcome.

Royal

House is yours. Doors are locked. We’ll be back on the bus after the game… should get in pretty late.

Don’t suck tonight

I smile and drop the phone back to the bed, refusing to think any more about Max Keegan. Even if he knows I now attend Framingham State, he doesn’t know where I live. He can wander campus, but I’m not there.

I’m safe.

And an empty house means I can gather my clothes, towel, and toiletries and walk to the bathroom in the hallway in my sleep stuff. No worrying about running into my brother’s teammates and them getting the wrong idea.

I have curves. I’m not going to lie about that. I know what it feels like to have a guy make eye contact, then his gaze just… drops to my chest.

They’re not subtle.

It’s already awkward, knowing Royal probably didn’t give Lucas and Connor, the last roommate, a choice on the matter. Lucas didn’t seem put out. I have yet to come face-to-face with Connor, beyond passing him on my way out the door.

Then, of course, there’s Camden Church.

No need to guess how he feels about me being here.

Arms full, I nudge the bathroom door shut and set my stuff down on the counter. As far as bathrooms go, this one could definitely be better. Or worse.

I flick on the switch for the light and the fan, and frown when something flutters on the mirror.

There’s a folded piece of paper taped to it.

I lock the door and gently pull it off. If it’s not for me, then I can just put it back. But there is an H scrawled on the front…

Who’s leaving me notes?

I unfold it and scan the handwriting, and my stomach flips.

Thanks for the content, Harper. The WatchMe subscription I started in your name is already going viral. You moving in is the best thing to happen to my bank account. Minus the NHL contract, obviously.

—C

What?

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