Page 57 of The Revenge Plan (Forbidden Descendants 1)

“Well.” I heaved out a large breath. “Seems okay so far. We’ll know more when all the tests come back.”

“Cool. Good.” He eyed me a second longer as if making sure I was really okay, then he glanced down and frowned. “I should get to class.” He shot me a tight smile, or what I figured was an attempt at a smile. “See you later.”

“Yeah,” I answered, walking toward the exit with him. “Thanks for waiting on me.”

That had been nice of him. Over and beyond unnecessary, but incredibly considerate.

Back to being aloof, he nodded and held the door open for me to exit first. Then he walked off in a different direction as I was headed. I checked the time. If he really had class, he was already ten minutes late.

I glanced after him, trying to figure him out. He’d been ready to miss a class just to

wait on me to finish, and yet as soon as I was done, he took off as if afraid to even talk to me.

I swear, he was one puzzling guy.

16

Wick

Saturday morning, I crept from my room just after five in a cotton shirt, shorts, and running shoes. I tried not to look at the closed door that led into Haven’s room, but I nearly walked into the wall I was staring at it so hard.

The apartment was quiet; she was no doubt asleep in there, which got my mind to spinning. What did she sleep in? Full-on long pants with a matching conservative T-shirt, shorty-shorts with one of those slinky tight tops, a silky nighty, nothing at all?

I began to sweat.

This was fucking unreal. Haven Gamble was sleeping in my apartment, hell, living in my apartment. I still couldn’t quite wrap my brain around that.

Tiptoeing as quietly as I could, I locked the front door behind me, staring at it one last time, wondering if she’d still be here when I returned, and then I forced myself away and started my morning jog. The campus fitness center was about a mile away, which gave me the perfect time to get loosened up with my run to start my workout by the time I arrived.

The place was fairly quiet, as it usually was this early, but it probably was even more so today because of the game this evening. Which I would not be playing in.

The guys were still having a hard time handling that fact; they kept texting me ideas of ways I could talk the coach into changing his mind and letting me play. Except I was resolved to my fate. This was my last year, and the season was only a month or less from being over. Once it was, I knew I could walk away, no problems. So missing a game wasn’t the end of the world for me, but I would’ve liked to have been able to play for as many as I could. Football was one thing I knew I was good at without any reservations, and my teammates counted on me. I hated letting them down, plus I got this invigorating rush whenever I made a good play. So, I was also irritated as hell that I’d been benched.

I still needed to tell my parents I wouldn’t be in tonight’s game, too. That was going to suck. They’d want to know why, and knowing me, I’d probably tell them everything.

An hour later, I was back at my apartment door, my skin crackling with uneasy energy, no idea if Haven would be awake, asleep, or even around at all.

Damn, how was I going to get used to this?

The apartment was as quiet and dark as it had been when I’d left. After a quick glance in the kitchen to find that her ceramic mug was still hanging from the hook by her Keurig machine—and yes, it was fucking weird to see her things in my kitchen—I decided she was probably still asleep. Glad I had my own personal bathroom so I wouldn’t disturb her, I took a quick shower and changed into another shirt and shorts—my house-lounging clothes because I didn’t plan to go anywhere today—and I found my way to the kitchen because, by this time, I was starving.

Too lazy to cook anything fancy and hoping not to wake my new roommate with a ton of kitchen sounds, I poured myself a bowl of cereal—one infested with tons of sugar, which I usually didn’t eat, but hell, I wasn’t going to get to play today, so I figured I deserved one small bit of self-pity junk-food indulgence to deal—and I started toward the living room to plop onto the couch and catch up on some of the shows I’d recorded over the week but hadn’t had time to watch between classes, work, and football.

I’d just gotten the volume low enough to stay in the living room but loud enough to barely hear when a pounding came on the front door.

Dammit, I’d just gotten comfortable, too.

The pounding continued, which made me frown and wonder if it was Nicholl and he’d finally figured out where Haven was.

Fucker just didn’t give up, did he?

Grumbling, I paused my show, climbed off the couch, and started for the entrance, still protectively carrying my hallowed bowl of Cocoa Pebbles with me.

When I yanked the door open, however, I’m the one who got the surprise, because it wasn’t Nicholl at all.

Three strangers stood before me.

As I arched a single eyebrow in confusion, not recognizing any of them, they eyed me right back, until the one in the middle uttered, “Holy shit, no one said he was fucking gorgeous.”

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