Jack shows up the next afternoon to check out my apartment and, I suppose, Riley.
“Nice place,” he says. “I call dibs on the chair.”
He points to a round velvet chair in deep red Riley said she found at a thrift store. It’s as comfortable as Jack imagines and I plan to spend a lot of time there in front of the television on Saturdays, watching Jack’s games. Despite what I told Masters, I don’t sit at the top of the stadium or with the other students. It’s too damn stressful.
“You can’t call dibs,” Riley protests. “This isn’t your apartment.”
“It’s Ellie’s, which means it’s mine, too.” Jack winks at her but Riley is having none of it.
She scowls and shakes a scolding finger at Jack. “You make a mess and you have to clean it up.”
“No problem.” He smiles again and this time it’s deep enough that his dimples appear. Uh oh. I had better separate the two before Riley falls under the spell of Jack’s charms.
“Come on.” I grab his arm. “I need your help unpacking stuff.”
He snaps to immediately and follows me to my room. “What do you need?”
I point to the stack of empty cardboard boxes. “I’ve unpacked most everything, but I need help getting rid of these boxes.”
“Sorry I wasn’t here to help you carry this shit up here.” Jack makes quick work of the first box, tearing off the tape and punching it flat. “I still can’t believe those shitheads didn’t drive down with you.”
He tosses the now flat box into the hallway and proceeds to efficiently destroy the five other boxes.
“It’s fine. The manager had a four-wheel dolly and he helped me bring most of it up.”
“Riley wasn’t even here?” The nerve in Jack’s jaw starts ticking with annoyance. It’s not directed at me or Riley. It’s directed at our parents. I reach over and pull the laundry basket away from him before he crushes it.
“Her family is in town. Look, I didn’t want to stay home any longer and I missed you.”
“So what’s your roommate like? She seems nice.”
“No dating her.”
“I wouldn’t date her,” he protests a shade too vigorously.
“I think she’s nice and normal, so you have to stay away.”
“Do you see something wrong with this picture?”
Not wanting him to date my roommate, dump her, and make her not want to live with me? No, I didn’t see anything wrong with preventing that outcome. “It sounds exactly right to me.”
He throws himself onto my bed. “What you’re essentially saying is that if your roommate is a great chick, fun to hang out with, totally normal, then she’s off limits. If she’s burn-the-bunny crazy, though, she’s all mine.”
I push his feet off. “That’s right. Good job on putting together two and two.”
“Shouldn’t you be encouraging me to date nice girls?”
“First, you don’t date anyone. You sleep with girls for anywhere between one night and a month. Maybe two tops. Then I’m left with either the constant crier or the I’m cutting off your brother’s dick the next time I see him roommate.” I had both in junior college.
“You’re a killjoy, El.” He reaches to my desk pushed against the foot of the bed and grabs the miniature Nerf football sitting between my pen cup and Kleenex box. “Besides, I can’t help it if the girls you room with turned into bunny boilers.”
“Guess what! You don't have to sleep any of them. Here’s an idea; how about you not sleep with the girls who have a tendency to go rabid after you dump them.” I grab the football from him and throw it at his face. He snatches it out of the air before it can come within two feet of him. Damn reflexes!
“Next thing you’ll say I should stop having sex like Knox Masters.”
I stumble on a non-existent fold in my rug and have to steady myself on the edge of the desk. “Knox Masters is celibate?”
Jack rolls over on his side and tosses the football at me. I don’t bother to catch it. The ball strikes the back wall and bounces onto the desk, knocking papers onto the floor.
“Not just celibate, but a virgin.” Jack bends down and gathers up the papers on the floor. I’m still too stunned to help him.
“No. I don’t believe it,” I answer flatly. Knox is gorgeous. His abs are so defined that a girl might cut her tongue on his ridged perfection, and based on this morning’s interaction, he’s got a little charm. Okay, a lot of fucking charm. “Do you really believe he’s a virgin? Maybe he tells people he’s a virgin and then the girls fight each other to show him the ropes—to be the first.”
“Hard to say. I’ve seen him hook up with girls. One night we went to a club downtown and a girl ate his face off.”
Yeah, so not a virgin.