Let Me Live

Chapter One

Rolling up the sleeves of his black button-down, he reaches up to the shelf above the sink out of my eye view and pulls out two rubber gloves, slipping them on. My jaw drops. "I was touching nasty food when there were gloves this whole time?" I groan.

The caterer shoots me a smirk over his shoulder, his hazel eyes teasing. "You were too busy bitching to listen to us."

My lips purse. Fair enough.

I grab a dish towel and wipe my hands then reach on tiptoes for a pair of gloves and help the caterer wash the pile of plates next to him.

"So, what exactly did you do that got you shoved in here by your sorority president?" He glances up at me with a questioning gaze. But that questioning gaze shows me deeper into the person he is. The slight curl of his lip as he speaks alludes to a goofy personality that somehow I know just needs to be coaxed out of him.

I sigh, rolling my eyes while I scrub all my frustration out. "I should start this by saying that I'm not one hundred percent sober right now," I inform him and chuckle when he pushes the knives further away from my side of the sink. "My favorite song came on and I can't not dance to my favorite song," I explain, throwing my arms wide.

"So...you danced?"

I squeeze my eyes shut before bursting out, "Gianna said that we weren't allowed to quote shake our asses, and I mean c'mon, you can't tell me not to do something and expect me to listen while my favorite song is on and I'm drunk off free champagne," I defend myself.

A snort came from next to me.

I didn't even want to be at this thing. If these sorority events weren't mandatory you would never see me at these stuffy, stupid things. Making pointless chitchat and eating fancy food sucked the life out of me and if I had to deal with another older man staring at my ass, I might burn someone's house down.

We work together in silence, the only sound coming from the water moving in the sick and our sponges scrubbing the plates until he finally cracks. "So since you're in a sorority and everything, it's safe to assume you go to Chesley?" He asks, staring at the sink.

I nod, gently placing the wet plate on the growing pile. "Yup, I'm going to be a junior this coming year," I answer and grumble as I scrape more mashed potatoes into the trashcan. Was there something wrong with the mashed potatoes or something? I clear my throat, "Are you in college?" I ask politely, wanting to break the awkward feeling in the air.

He pauses, deliberately turning his head to face me with a confused frown. I blink at him. "Me?" He asks in a way that tells me I should know the answer to this question. How the fuck would I know? His lips purse before he nods. "Uh—Yeah, yes, I do." He resumes scrubbing. "I go to Chesley too, I'm going to be a junior," he adds as an afterthought.

I nod, feeling the awkwardness crawl in between us. "Oh, cool." I silently curse myself. Crap, did we take a class together? Is that why he looked at me like I was insane a second ago? I open my mouth to ask another question, or maybe to apologize for not recognizing him—did we take a math class together?

The double doors slam open followed by heels clacking against the floor. "Perrie!" Gianna Henson calls out in her authoritative voice.

I moan to the ceiling. "Lord, end my suffering."

He clears his throat, trying to hide his laughter as Gianna wanders into the kitchen, hands on her hips. She looks me up and down, from gloves to heels. "How's dishwashing going?"

Picking up another plate covered in uneaten mashed potatoes, I scrape it into the trashcan next to me. There was definitely something wrong with the mashed potatoes. "Having the time of my life," I say with a relaxed smile.