My Favourite Mistake. Chelsea Cameron M.. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Chelsea Cameron M.
Издательство: HarperCollins
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Жанр произведения: Современные любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781472011817
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stood there, as if he didn’t know what to say. My eyes drifted down his chest and saw that he had a towel wrapped around his waist. At least it covered everything it needed to cover.

      “No, I’m fine. Good night.” I flipped over, hoping that would be the end of it. He sighed, and I heard him crawl back into bed.

      “Good night,” he said and flipped over as well.

      Five

      Hunter was gone the next morning when I woke up at nine. So was Renee, but Darah was at the dining table eating a bowl of cereal.

      “How was your night with the boy?”

      “Fantastic,” I said, stretching my arms over my head and listening to my spine pop. I shuffled to the coffeepot and found that there was just enough for one more cup. I had no idea how long it had been sitting there, but I didn’t care. Coffee only got really nasty if it was past four hours. I poured myself a cup and sat down with Darah. She looked about as bad as I felt.

      “You’re okay with him here, really?” she said.

      “No, I’m really not.” I sipped the sweet elixir, wrapping my hand around my cup. “But what can I do?” I still hadn’t told them about the bet, and Hunter hadn’t either. I wasn’t sure if I was going to go there. If housing could settle things, then they never had to know. I just hoped if housing found him another place, he would go quietly. I really had no idea what kind of a fight he would put up.

      “Not much. Just give housing hell. I don’t know what they were thinking.” She shook her head.

      “And they didn’t even notify us! It’s just crazy. This damn school.” I got up and slammed two pieces of bread into the toaster. There was something else that was bothering me, but I wasn’t going to tell Darah about it. Unless…maybe she had heard me last night. I glanced over my shoulder to find her watching me. Yup, she’d heard. “You probably heard me last night, didn’t you?”

      “The walls are like paper, so yeah. I didn’t want to bring it up unless you were uncomfortable. Do you want to talk about it?”

      “Not really. I forgot to take my meds. Sorry if I kept you up.”

      “It’s no big deal—we were just worried about you. It’s been a while since you had one.”

      “Renee woke up, too?”

      Darah nodded. Great, just great.

      “I’m really sorry.” It had only been twenty-four hours and I was already a bad roommate.

      “Don’t worry about it. Did Hunter wake up?”

      “Yeah, he actually woke me up. He sleeps naked, by the way.”

      She snorted milk through her nose and had a coughing fit before she could answer.

      “You’re kidding me,” she said, her eyes the size of dinner plates.

      “I didn’t see Hunter Junior, if that’s what you’re thinking. He didn’t take his shorts off until he was under the covers. What a gentleman, right?”

      “Listen, if he makes you uncomfortable, we can switch rooms. Although, we might have to pull Renee off him in the middle of the night.”

      “He’d probably screw her. He seems like that kind of guy.” My toast popped up, and I spread some butter and drizzled some honey on it.

      “Hey, I’ve gotta go to macro, but I’ll see you later, okay? Let me know if you hear from housing.”

      “Will do,” I said, saluting her and munching on my toast.

      She grabbed her bag, and, for the first time since moving in, I had the place to myself. I should spend that time on skimming the first chapter in my textbook, but I wasn’t that ambitious. Instead I plunked down on the sofa with a crappy reality show marathon and dazed out. I was just about to start getting ready when the door opened.

      “Hey,” Hunter said, setting his messenger bag by the door. “You recovered from last night?”

      “Yeah, I’m fine.”

      “Sure you are.”

      I was not going to put up with him today, so I went to get dressed and brush my teeth. He grabbed the remote and changed the channel. Of course.

      “Don’t you have class?” I asked.

      “I don’t have another until two-fifteen. You?” He didn’t take his eyes from the television.

      “I have Feminism in Cinema at eleven-fifteen.”

      “Sounds thrilling,” he said, finally settling on the History Channel. Looked like a marathon about Hitler.

      “See you later,” I said and went to get ready. He didn’t even say goodbye when I walked out the door a few minutes later. I’d never met someone who ran so hot and cold. He was worse than Maine weather, which changed with alarming frequency.

      My walk down to class was relatively quiet. Our building was on the outer edge of campus, like a spoke on a wheel. UMaine centered on a grassy mall that had the library at one end and the memorial gym at the other. Most of the important buildings were near the mall, and the less important were behind them. The English building where I had my class was one of the less important and happened to be just down the hill from my dorm.

      The class was relatively small, so it was easy to find Megan’s flaming red hair. Women’s Studies was a small department, so everyone pretty much knew everyone else and took the same classes.

      “Hey,” I said, sliding in the seat next to her and pulling the retractable desk up with a horrible grinding noise.

      “We meet again,” she said. “How was move-in?”

      “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” We had a few minutes before class started, so I gave her the quick and very dirty version of the previous day.

      “You are kidding,” she said, sitting back.

      “I wish I were.”

      “I didn’t think housing could do that.”

      “I know, right? No notice, nothing.”

      We were interrupted by the arrival of our teacher, Jennie, who I’d had a previous class with. She was young, only about twenty-eight, and was so obsessed with movies, she made even the most boring topic interesting. She also wouldn’t let us call her by her last name.

      Class started with the usual handing out of syllabi and going over rules and policies. I tuned out most of it and let my mind wander. Of course it wandered to my most recent irritation. Hunter Zaccadelli.

      There was something seriously wrong with Hunter. One minute he was talking about going to bed with me, the next he said he didn’t want to have sex with me because he liked me and then he was colder than a Maine winter. Maybe that was something I could bring up with housing. I’d had to turn my phone off during class, but couldn’t wait to check it and see if I had a message. I also planned on stopping there after lunch, before my last class.

      We finished early, and Megan and I decided to get lunch at the Union. She went for a cheeseburger from the grill, and I got a tomato wrap filled with hummus and veggies. Somehow we found two empty seats and set everything down.

      “So you need to give me some more details on this guy.”

      “I don’t really know much, actually. Except he’s a douche and he’s sleeping in my room.”

      She covered her burger with ketchup and smashed the bun. “Is he cute?”

      I had to think about my answer. There was no denying that Hunter was gorgeous. He had everything the typical female would want. Good body, perfect teeth, great hair and everything (that I could see) in proportion. Given a personality transplant,