His words are wistful as he recites the poem, and it strikes a chord.
“My mom used to say that last line to me a lot, especially when I was upset or working through something. She died when I was seventeen, right before I came to HU.”
I bite my lip. “My mom passed when I was eleven.”
A long, long sigh comes from him. “Mine had breast cancer. She and my dad hid how bad it was from us for a long time, but it got her.” I hear a rustling noise as if he’s really getting comfortable. “She gave me a necklace with the last line from the poem on it before she died. She said it was a reminder that life isn’t always gold, but that green does eventually come back around. It’s the way of the universe.”
“It’s beautiful that you have that.” I swallow.
“How about you? What happened?”
My heart is heavy, even though it’s been years. “I came home from school and she was dead. Seizure, they said. She was epileptic and wasn’t great about taking her meds. She…she was all I had. My father had completely broken up with her by the time that happened. Plus, he already had a wife and kids. I was the love child he never wanted.”
There’s silence for a while.
“Are you still there?” I say.
“Yeah. Just thinking about you being alone…it must have been hard coming here, your dad not being around and all.”
I sigh. “Yeah.”
“Can I come in, Sugar? I just want to hold you. I was an asshole.”
“Honestly, I like talking to you like this. It’s easier.” With a door between us, there’s no risk of me having sex with him. “Tell me about your cat. What’s her name?”
“She’s not my cat. Her name is Long John Silver.”
I smile. “Who named her?”
He snorts. “You’ve been talking to Eric. Okay, okay, the cat is mine. I dig the cat. She curls up next to me when I sleep, and honestly it makes me feel calm, and I need a little of that during hockey season.”
I grin and a few more moments pass of us just breathing.
“Let me in, Sugar. I need…I need to see you. Just let me give you a hug and I’ll leave.”
Another voice interrupts us and I recognize it as the girl from across the hall, a stocky rodeo chick. Whenever I see her approaching in the hall, I always give her a wide berth. “Oh, for God’s sake, open the damn door already, or I’m calling security! A person needs their sleep in this dump!”
Z huffs out a chuckle, and I bite my lip to keep from laughing.
Fine.
I crack open the door and there he is.
He’s standing up now and he leans against my doorjamb, wearing black running gear from head to toe. There’s a serious expression on his face, and his hair is wild and flying everywhere as if it has static in it. Static hair is such a regular human thing and it’s nice to see, because honestly I was beginning to think of him as very non-human with that face and body.
“You look like a burglar who stuck his finger in a light socket,” I murmur.
He shoves a black knit hat down on his head. “You should have seen me when I had this on—cat burglar extraordinaire. I had to slip in through the side door because the girl at the front desk told me visiting hours were over for this floor.”
“Alas, I got housing so late, I have sucky hours. They call this dorm The Virgin Vault.”
His brows go up. “You trying out being a nun?”
I give him a look. “We just had sex in a garage—does that sound nunnish to you? And yes, I know that’s not a real word.”
He grins. “Let me in?”
“CHRIST, LET HIM IN!” comes from the door across the hall.
“You should definitely listen to her.”
“You’ve worn me down at this point, plus I’ve had a drink, so I’m willing to hear your apology,” I say.
I step to the side so he can brush past me. Of course my gaze follows his physique. Mr. Black Spandex is hot and every muscle in his backside ripples. I sigh—I can’t help it. He turns around and catches