Page 7 of The Tomboy and the Captain

His eyes flit to mine and a wave of confusion passes behind his pupils, practically drowning him.

“I went to LA. And now I’m back. I stopped for Chicken and Go on my way home. Was I supposed to pick up food for you, Ivy?”

I would yell at him on his sister’s behalf except I can tell by his expression that he’s dead serious. He has no idea that there seems to be two of us here for the one room.

“Matthew Chester Grossman. Do you ever listen to your voicemail like an adult? Have you read any of my text messages?” Matt sets his food down and pulls his phone from his back pocket, likely to do what his sister just questioned him about doing in the first place. It takes about five seconds for reality to hit him.

“Oh . . . yeah. Shit.” He hooks his sunglasses into the neckline of his black T-shirt, then runs his fingers through his messy hair.

“Ivy, I didn’t know. My bad, Laney.” He gives me a sheepish grin, and because he’s Matt and has always been, well, like this, I soften a little. Not completely, because I still have the issue of my belongings sitting in boxes once again and the man I hate most taking up my space.

“Dude, bro.” Matt spins slowly to meet Cutter’s waiting hard stare. He holds his hands out to either side and shakes his head yet doesn’t utter another word.

“You told me this room was mine, man. Class starts tomorrow. I have a game soon.Dude, bro?That’s your solution?” Cutter’s jaw flexes and I swear he’s going to crack a molar.

My phone clutched in one hand, I move toward the dresser and scoop up a stack of Cutter’s sweatpants and carry them out the door.

“That really sucks, Cutter. I’ll help you box your clothes back up.” I’m a step away from the door when Cutter swoops in front of me and clutches his pants in both hands, jerking them back from me.

“Oh ho ho, hell no! We had a deal. I brought your cash. I am not moving my shit back out of this room.” He plants his stackof sweats back where I snatched them from, then folds his arms across his chest. Which is still bare. It’s annoyingly distracting.

“Well, I’m not going anywhere, and I was here first,” I declare, setting my phone on the dresser so I can hold my fists on my hips.

Cutter snickers, then pinches the bridge of his nose.

“I’ve already moved your shit out,” he argues, and my eyes narrow on his stupid smug face.

My lips pucker as I struggle not to blurt out the dozens of names I want to call him.

“Cutter, you’re going to have to move in with Matt and share a room,” Ivy suggests. I snap and smile at her brilliant solution and Matt shrugs. He seems fine with it.

“Works for me,” I say, reaching for the stack of sweatpants again a second before Cutter’s heavy palm lands on top.

“Hell no! No offense, Matt, but rooming with you . . . I’d kill you. You know it,” Cutter says, shaking his head. Matt’s face scrunches, a little hurt.

“Well, that’s a risk you’re going to have to?—”

“You move in with Ivy!” Cutter blurts out. His lip quirks up on one side, proud of his solution.

“No offense, Cutter, but I pay the most rent and I work crazy shifts at a hospital,” Ivy says, beeping from the emergency room doors blaring in the background. “I’m not getting bunk beds, and my best friend was given the room first. If you want, you can stay on our couch until you find another place.”

I shift my gaze from my phone screen back to Cutter. His mouth is a hard line as he stares down at the floor, but I have a feeling he’s about to give in. His cheek dents as he chews at the inside and his gaze darts to mine.

“We’ll share,” he says, shifting his weight, a daring smirk threatening to form a dimple on one side of his face.

I try to read him, tell if he’s kidding, but he doesn’t crack. I spit out a sharp laugh.

“That’s ridiculous!” It’s also my biggest nightmare.

“Why? You afraid you’ll fall in love with me and then this whole act you have going about hating my guts will be nothing but a lie?” He lifts a brow as I cock my head to the side a tick.

“That’s stupid.” I huff out another stunted and frustrated laugh before crossing my arms over my chest and tucking my hands deep into my pits. I’m not okay with the direction this is going. But I’m also not letting Cutter McCreary steal another thing away from me.

“If it’s stupid then it shouldn’t be a big deal. I mean, how often are we going to be here at the same time?” He shrugs as if that’s the only thing to sort out with his absurd plan.

“Uh, we’ll both besleepinghere. That’s the big deal.”

“I can handle sleeping next to you. At least for a semester.” He seems so sure, but I know better. Cutter would be hitting on me nonstop, probably even in his sleep.

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