Page 49 of Our Secret to Keep

So, yeah, she’s here to stay until we get sick of her. Or she realizes this is never going anywhere. Samantha is not marriage material or even girlfriend material.

Anyway, it’s not like I date.

Ever.

Neither does River.

“Clingers get cut,” I tell Samantha. “I suggest you stop talking before we replace you with someone else.”

She scoffs. “Oh, fuck you, Nate. Seriously, just go fuck yourself.”

“I will,” I say with a smile. “And I won’t think about you when I do it.”

At that, she storms down the stairs.

I know I’m a dickhead.

What can I say?

I don’t form attachments to anyone. Not unless you count River. For whatever screwed-up reason, he’s the only person I have been able to create any connection with. My childhood shrink said it was because of all of the trauma I endured at an early age.

“Next time, shut your fucking door,” Waters yells into the hallway. “I’m trying to work over here.”

I poke my head inside his bedroom to see the wall of a man tapping away on his laptop, sitting cross-legged on his bed. “I know you sleazy motherfuckers get off to me bringing home puck bunnies. Don’t deny it, Big Boy.”

His eyes flare along with his nostrils. “If you weren’t on the starting line and the key to us winning another Frozen Four, I would end you, Brooks. Get the fuck out of my room!”

“Aww, I know you like me, Big Boy. It’s okay. I won’t tell your girl that you have a crush on me.”

I slam the door before he can say another word. Then, I push my way into the bathroom. Steam billows around my head, the mirror fogged from the hot water. River has always taken skin-melting showers.

I lock the door and step into the glass-encased double shower. River stands with his back to me, his palm on the tiled wall, water drizzling onto his dark hair.

River hears me and spins around, hands raised, ready to strike. “Oh.” He sighs, the tension releasing from his shoulders. “I thought Waters was in here again.”

The shower is large enough to fit both of us. We have double heads and a rainfall at the center of the massive space. Kingston University is for the wealthy—the elite. And so are the accommodations, even in the on-campus housing. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You shouldn’t be in here,” River whispers, eyes downcast. “The guys think there’s something up with us. Waters just came in here making accusations.”

I slide my hand beneath his chin to pull his gaze back to me. “Like what? I’ll slit his fucking throat if he does anything to hurt you.”

“Nate,” he sighs.

That’s all he says.

And stares at me.

“Yeah?”

Finish your sentence.

I wait for him to respond, but he turns his back to me and puts his head under the water.

Moving behind him, I place my hands on his shoulders. “What did he say to you?”

River shivers when my lips get closer to his ear. “He asked if we have somehomo shitgoing on. And it’s not the first time he or anyone in the house has asked us. If it gets back to the media…”

Ah, I see where this is going.

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