Page 106 of How to Win the Girl

Built-in bookcases.

Then at the end of this hall, he stops in front of a door, pulls a key out of his back pocket, and proceeds to open the master lock on the door, pushing it open to reveal a giant bathroom.

“There you go.”

I stare inside. “Just like that, I get my own bathroom?”

Wow.

Don’t I feel special?! “A girl could get used to this!”

He does nothing but nod.

I squint at him, hand on the bathroom doorknob. “Are you allowed to talk? Is this a rush thing?” I’ve heard that sometimes during rush week, pledges are made to do a lot of stupid shit.

His face turns bright red. “Of course I’m allowed to talk.”

Hmm. “Are you going to stand out here while I do my business?”

Another nod. “I have to. I have the only key.”

“Gotcha.” I shoot a finger gun in his direction. “I’ll try not to take too long.”

His hands go up. “Take all the time you need. It’ll spare me from spending the night as everyone’s little bitch.”

“Well then. If you insist, I’ll take my time.” I laugh.

“I’m Benny, by the way.” He pauses. “Freshman.”

“Daisy,” I tell him, slowly closing the gap in the door. “Junior.”

When I’m alone, I sigh.

Set the beer down on the window ledge.

Blow out a puff of air as I unzip my jeans, pull them down over my hips, and squat over the toilet, doing my best not to pee anywhere but inside the toilet.

My eyes stray to the tile bathtub.

The shampoo on the ledge.

I pee for what feels like forever, thighs burning a little by the time I’m done.

“Oh my god, what all did I drink?” I mutter as I wipe.

Flush.

The noise from the house party is muffled, and I’m grateful for the reprieve, despite the fact that Drew and I have only been here for a half hour. I make short work of washing my hands and drying them, pelvis pressed against the counter to study my makeup.

Not that it matters—I didn’t bring any eyeliner to fix the smudge under my right eye.

I text Stella.

Text Gabby.

Slide the phone into the back pocket of my jeans, sighing again as I pull the bathroom door open, assuming I’ll see Benny leaning against the wall, waiting the way he said he would be.

He’s not.

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