“You’ll always be Irish to me,” he says with a wink and then turns to head back down the hall that stretches to the very back of the sizeable house.
He called me Irish.
Why did he call me Irish?
I don’t remember him.
Why don’t I remember him?
Ohmigod. He saw me like that. He must know Ashton. Does he know what I did with Ashton? Is he going to tell Connor that I’m a maniac when I drink? Has he already told Connor? What if Connor doesn’t want anything to do with me now?
This is a disaster.
Reagan grabs my forearm and squeezes. “Livie, you’re not blinking. It’s creeping me out.”
“Sorry,” I mumble. It’s nothing, I tell myself.
We start following Grant back, past a spacious but unoccupied living room on the right. “Reagan has won over my undying love, but I’m willing to date around while she sows her wild oats,” Grant calls out over his shoulder.
“I think you’ll be dating until you’re old and gray, then,” I warn with a sidelong glance at her.
He stops walking and spins around, flashing Reagan a wide grin. “She’s worth it. Would you ladies like something to drink?”
Before I can request water or a Coke, Reagan is already placing our order, holding up two fingers. “The usual, Grant. Thanks.” I have a feeling the usual is coming from the selection of glass liquor bottles on the kitchen counter I see up ahead. And Grant obviously knows Reagan well if he knows what “the usual” is.
“Anything for you, Gidget,” he says with another winning smile as he turns a corner.
I grab her arm to stop her from following. “Did you know that Grant lived here, Reagan?”
Her brow furrows. “Oh, yeah. Of course.”
I feel my eyebrow arch and I know it’s probably halfway up my forehead. “So then you knew that he was Connor’s roommate . . .”
“Uh-huh,” she says absently, wiggling from my grasp and speeding toward the kitchen.
Why is she being so evasive?
“Hey, Livie!” I hear. I turn to see Connor coming down the set of stairs, his face beaming. I sigh with relief. Okay, so he doesn’t appear to be regretting this invitation . . .
He confirms that a second later as he wraps his arms around my body, enfolding me into a warm hug, as if we’re old friends rather than two people who just met. “So glad to see you again,” he murmurs into my ear, sending a shiver through me.
“You too,” I giggle, melting into him with ease.
With a gentle hand on my back, he leads me into a large galley-style kitchen full of dark woods and stainless steel. I never saw any of this the night of the party, seeing as we entered the basement through the back of the house. I’m more than surprised that a bunch of college guys live like this. The back wall is basically all windows, overlooking the secluded wooded backyard.
“Did you meet Tavish?” Connor asks, gesturing to a stocky guy of about my height with red-tinged hair leaning against the counter, inhaling a piece of pizza.
“Call me Ty.” He wipes his hand on his jeans and then offers it to me.
“Dude! This is America. We’re not barbarians here. Wash your hands before offering it to the ladies,” Grant mutters as he hands me a drink, waggling his eyebrows. He has a very pleasant, friendly smile.
“Bile yer heid!” Ty roars at Grant in a thick Scottish accent that I assume is fake, given he didn’t have it a moment ago. I have no idea what he said but Grant’s chastising must have worked because Ty goes to the sink to wash the pizza grease off.
“If you ever need a little man in a kilt, Ty’s your guy,” Connor says with a wry grin.
“A kilt?” I repeat in a high-pitched voice as I remember the picture on my sister’s phone.
“Ty’s all about the traditions. Aren’t you, Ty?” Reagan chirps from behind me, giggling. She flipped through the pictures too, so she knows exactly what I’m remembering.
He responds with a loud belch and a grin.
“Man, Ty. Ease up,” Connor says with a laugh, shaking his head. To me, he says, “He’s a small-doses kind of guy. And a no-doses kind of guy when he’s walking around in that thing. You don’t want to witness it. It’s not pretty, trust me.”
Reagan howls with laughter as my cheeks burn and Connor chatters away, clueless.
Connor quirks his brow at her. “What’s so funny, Reagan?”
“Oh, nothing . . .” An impish grin flashes across her face and then it’s gone. “Good to see you, Connor.”
He walks over to give her a hug. “Good to see you too, Reagan. Though I don’t know if Princeton is ready to handle you...”
She only winks in response.
Folding my arms over my chest, I ask, “So how exactly do you all know each other?” I shoot my sneaky little roommate a pointed glare. She quickly ducks behind Grant, avoiding eye contact.
“Reagan’s dad coaches my rowing team. Didn’t she tell you that?”