Page 12 of This Is War: All's Fair Duet
“What? Oh, yeah. Sorry.” She slaps the laptop shut and sets it aside. “I guess you’re right. Just a recap of the dorm rules. They probably wanna make sure we aren’t drinkingin our rooms, being too loud at night, and generally not acting like crazy assholes. Got it.”
I snort. “Some people need the reminder, I guess.” Taking a moment to think about it, I come to the conclusion that the students in this dorm are fairly evenly split among the rule followers and the rule breakers. And of those rule breakers, there is definitely a large quantity who haven’t figured out how to fly under the radar.
Oh my god. I bring my fingers to my temples, rubbing there for about the thousandth time today. I’m a huge hypocrite, because this morning, I was one of those people barfing in the bathroom. And I’d been so messed up and out of it, I hadn’t even realized I was in the men’s room. Talk about embarrassing. I blow out a breath. Won’t happen again. At least I feel better than I did earlier. I swear, it was touch-and-go for a while there.
“Where do you think Logan is?” Hazel folds her arms across her chest with a huff.
“Honestly, I don’t know. I would’ve thought he’d be back by now. But maybe after he was out, he decided to hit the gym like he usually does and got hung up there? I don’t know why he wouldn’t have at least sent you a text to let us know.” He hasn’t said as much, but it’s totally obvious he’s anxious for baseball practice to start. He’s ready to prove himself to the coaches, because he has hopes of playing this season, even though he’s a freshman.
Hazel slips from the bed and goes over to her wardrobe and rummages through until she finds a hoodie. “Logan said he knew where to find Jaxon… but how would he?” She tugs the pretty teal sweatshirt over her head, the pair of ballet-pink pointe shoes stamped on the front making me smile for a moment. That is, until she continues. “I mean, it’s one thing to know his stepbrother is at Evermore—we’ll set aside the fact that he didn’t bother to tell you about him for now—but it’s kinda a superpower to know where he could be at any given time.” She wrinkles her nose. “It’s weird.”
She’s right, it is. And I still would like to get a better feel for why the person I thought was my best friend in the world never even mentioned Jaxon’s existence. I knew Logan’s mom had remarried after losing her husband. Come to think of it, I suppose that means I’ve actually met Jaxon’s dad because I have met Logan’s stepfather. I try to shrug off the not-so-great feeling that Logan’s omission is giving me. Tipping my bottle to my lips, I let the chilled water slide down my throat, hydrating myself like Logan had pointed out I needed to do before I bit his head off for suggesting it.
I scrub my hands over my face. Neither of us had been at our best this morning, but that was to be expected after an uncharacteristic night of drinking our asses off. Wincing, I recall the way we left things. Not great. Not by along shot. “I would try to answer that, but like you mentioned, I didn’t even know he had a stepbrother in the first place.”
Hazel glances at her phone. “The dorm meeting starts in ten minutes. Let’s head down to the common room so we can get a seat on a couch near one of the fireplaces.”
I wink at her. “That’s the smartest thing you’ve said all day.” It’s one of my favorite things about this century-old dorm—there’s a room on the main floor where a lot of us gather. The cozy, dimly lit atmosphere is a resident favorite, and on cold nights like tonight, the RAs always have the fireplaces at either end crackling with warmth, thereby throwing the room into flickering shadow.
Much to our dismay, by the time we pile into the oblong room with the rest of Deveney Hall’s inhabitants, we discover that everyone else had the same idea. It’s standing room only, so we can either lean against the wall or sit on the pillows scattered across the floor. Reluctantly, I follow Hazel when she points to an open spot behind one of the couches. We prop ourselves there and settle in to wait until the meeting begins.
A minute before they’re ready to start, I finally spot Logan hurrying toward us. At first, I’m caught up in his rugged good looks—the cut of his jaw, the wavy hair I love to play with when he gives in and lets me, and the intensity of his light-colored eyes. I swallow and wrench myeyes away, feeling guilty for checking out my unattainable best friend. He’s not interested in anyone missing a certain appendage between their legs. I know that for a fact. And now that I’ve shoved all that aside, it doesn’t take more than a few seconds to recognize something is on Logan’s mind. Maybe I should focus on being there for him instead of drooling over him. I frown at his tense expression as he approaches.
“Hey,” he whispers as he squeezes in beside me.
“Hey, where’ve you—?” I turn my head mid-question, and my mouth snaps shut as I study him. His face is drawn, and he’s hunched over, one hand to his stomach. He’s not acting like himself at all. The usual carefree grin is missing, as was the hug he almost always greets me with. Concern rising, I murmur for his ears only, “Logan, is everything okay?”
He doesn’t get a chance to respond because a couple of the building’s resident advisors call for our attention. My brow furrowed, I curse the interruption and tear my gaze from my friend with a sigh. It’ll have to wait until later. I peek at him. Does he have my phone? My eyes flick over his profile. His jaw is rigidly set, and it’s clear—to me, anyway—he’s unhappy about something.Uh-oh.
I bite my lip, steering my gaze toward two of the RAs from the first and second floors, Dominique and Colleen, who are waving their arms to get our attention.Meanwhile, Stephanie, the female half of the RA team from the third—our floor—uses her loud-as-hell voice to shout, “Hello, Deveney Hall! Welcome back! Are you ready for another great semester?”
There’s some scattered clapping and laughing among our fellow residents. It’s obvious from Stephanie’s exaggerated smile that she probably doesn’t want to be here doing this any more than we do, but I’m betting it’s required of them by the university. The girls go through the basics with us: quiet hours, the restriction of alcoholic beverages, and what to do if we have roommate or neighbor problems. At that last one, Hazel and I share a brief smile. Thank goodness we’ve never had any issues.
After that, the first- and second-floor male RAs, Ian and Seth, come forward. We lost RA Bryson from the third floor to a heinous football injury at the end of November. The poor guy broke his leg in two places and is currently recuperating at home. Ian barks out, “Now, one last thing before we introduce Bryson’s replacement to you. Be conscientious that you are living in mixed-gender housing.” He eyes a couple of dudes in the crowd. “No walking around with your dicks hanging outta your boxers, gentlemen.” He clears his throat. “On a serious note, consent is fuckin’ important. Please make sure you have it before you proceed. That works in both directions, people.”
Some guy I recognize as a rugby player shouts, “Wrap it before you tap it!”
“Oh my god.” Beside me, Hazel is in stitches, practically bent in half giggling, and she’s not the only one. Laughter bubbles through the room.
“Wait, I’ve got a good one,” a tall guy on the couch in front of us shouts. “Shield your rocket or leave it in your pocket!”
I groan, hiding my laugh behind my hand, then steal a look at Logan, who seems only mildly impressed by the display of comic relief being provided by our fellow residents. The noise level in the room has only just died down when some dude whoops, “Sex is cleaner with a packaged wiener! Or, ya know, sheath your pump or you don’t hump!” And at that, the entire group bursts out laughing.
Seth steps forward, his amused smirk telling all of us that he regrets having to put a stop to the chaos ensuing. He raises both arms in the air. “Okay, okay. While a little crude, we agree with all those sentiments, too.” He stops to wriggle his brows, his hearty chuckle reverberating off the walls. “We’ve got one last thing on the agenda, then you are free to go.” Waving someone forward I can’t see through the crowd on the left side of him, he raises his voice. “I would like everyone to extend a warm welcome to our newest RA who’ll be taking over on the third floor. Everyone say hello to Jaxon Ledger!”
My mouth drops open as Jaxon steps out from behind a few lanky basketball players and advances toward the corner where the other resident advisors are standing.
“What the fuck,” Logan mutters.
Before I can stop the question from tumbling out, I lean close to Logan and whisper, “Did you know about this?”
His jaw clenches, and he inhales sharply through his nose before letting the air out in an angry puff. He doesn’t answer verbally, but the jerk of his head tells me everything I need to know as he stares stonily at his stepbrother.
“For those of you who haven’t met him yet, Jaxon is a sophomore baseball pitcher and has agreed to step in and help us out for the semester.
“He’ll be available just like the rest of us. Remember, because we’re all athletes, occasionally you might need to seek out an RA on one of the other floors if your issue is emergent.” He shakes Jaxon’s hand at the same time he thumps his shoulder. “Did you want to say anything?”
Jaxon turns toward the crowd, his gaze swiftly moving through the residents. His eyes land on me, and his lips curve upward in a soft, sexy smile. He shoots me a wink, and a split second later, Logan grits out under his breath, “That motherfucker.” Glancing quickly around, I don’t think anyone else heard him, but then my friend pushesfrom the wall, wincing as he stands at his full height. The way he’s holding himself… it looks like he’s in pain.What the fuck happened today?
