Page 11 of Night Shift

“Yes, please.” I toe off my sneakers and slide onto one of the stools at the kitchen island. “The party was good, then?”

“So good,” Nina says as she pops a slice of bread into the toaster. “They hired a bartender, so the drinks were actually cold and not completely disgusting. I had a mai tai. A mai tai, Kendall. I never want to drink jungle juice again.”

“God, I can’t wait until we’re all twenty-one,” Harper says. “But until then, the basketball team knows how to throw a fucking party.”

There’s a soft, dreamy look on her face. Harper is a brilliant swimmer, a disciplined business major, and a complete and utter softy when it comes to stories of recovery, sacrifice, and generosity. Nina and I never go a week without her reading us some Humans of New York post or an inspirational news story. But this look? This one is new. I raise an eyebrow at Nina, who smiles knowingly as she slides my plate of eggs and toast across the counter.

“Jabari Henderson held her hand,” Nina whispers.

I gasp with scandalized delight and turn to Harper, who throws herself onto the stool next to mine and hides her face behind her hands.

“Oh my God,” she moans.

“What happened?” I demand. “Tell me now.”

“After a few too many rum and Cokes, I got way too bold, and my dumb ass decided to ask him what he was drinking—”

“And then he took her to the bar to get her one!” Nina cries. “He held her hand—”

“Because it was crowded.”

“That’s still flirting, you moron. It’s a move.”

I nibble at my toast as I watch my giddy (and maybe still a little drunk) roommates make faces at each other. “I thought the team was on social probation before the season?”

“Oh, they are,” Nina says. “But what a fucking joke. The whole team was there, and I’m pretty sure I saw all the starters do a round of shots together.”

“Except Knight,” Harper amends.

My heart hiccups at the sound of his name.

Nina frowns. “Yeah, he was missing, which was weird. Usually, he’s all over that shit.”

Vincent left the library at about eleven o’clock last night. I figured he went home. But I’m fairly certain all the starters live in the off-campus house the basketball team leases, so that doesn’t seem to line up. What, did he march through a sea of drunk kids and all his teammates—unnoticed—just to shut himself away in his room with Engman’s Anthology?

“Maybe he went to a bar?” Nina suggests.

“I don’t think he’s twenty-one.”

“But he’s a senior, right?” I ask before I can shut myself up. “Maybe he decided to get serious and cut back on the drinking.”

“Or,” Nina says, “maybe he’s got a girlfriend.”

The toast in my mouth turns to dust.

Harper, savior of my sanity, shakes her head. “Knight’s never had a girlfriend. He probably skipped the party because of his wrist. If he’s on painkillers and he’s not allowed to have any alcohol, I doubt he wanted to spend all night surrounded by drunk people.”

Nina hums in agreement, then yawns. “God, I cannot wait to pass out.”

“We’re all sleeping in, right?” I ask.

“Oh, of course.”

“Wait, Kendall,” Nina says, “how was the library? Any new book recommendations for me?”

I smile down at my eggs. “I got through the first few chapters of The Mafia’s Princess. I think you’d like it—the writing’s solid, the love interest isn’t obsessive or creepy, and I think it’s going to get pretty spicy. I’ll leave it on your desk when I finish it.”

“You didn’t finish it? It must not have been that good, then. You always finish books in one sitting.”

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