Apartment 109

Chapter 2

Tate leads me across campus along one of the many winding stone pathways that cut through the grass. We pass a number of buildings, but never stop. I begin to worry as we pass through a parking lot, but Tate seems perfectly at ease.

"So, uh, how are you enjoying it here?" It's a poor attempt at conversation, and the blush staining his cheeks says he knows it, even as the first leave his lips.

"This is my first day in Sydney, so I'll have to get back to you on that." It comes out sounding kinda rude, and I slap myself mentally. The one guy on the planet actually willing to try to have a conversation with me, and I'm being a total dick. What the hell is wrong with me?

"Oh," is all he says, and goes back to watching the ground, his hands fisted in his pockets.

I suck up my nervousness and try to repair my blunder. "Is this your first year, too?" I ask, struggling somewhat to keep up with his long stride.

He's surprised at my question but quickly recovers, shaking his head. "Nah, this is my second year. My degree's in literature, what about yours?"

"Art," I reply. So, this guy has been here for a year already. If a friendship happens to blossom out of the slushie incident, he will be a useful friend to have. That is, if he hasn't already come to his senses and is just going through with showing me to my room. Can't say I can really blame him, but it would suck. "I'll have to steal some books from you sometime then." I say it to gauge his reaction, and I'm not disappointed.

A huge grin spreads over his face and my heart stops at the pure beauty walking beside me. How did I not notice how hot he was before? Oh right because I was too busy being a bitch. "I look forward to it," he says, genuinely pleased.

We must have reached the right place because a minute later Tate's leading me down a quiet street and through a gateway into what looks like an apartment complex. There are three parts to the building, forming a J around a small parking lot. There are three levels – the top two having balconies that run the whole way along – and I see dull bronze numbers adorning the doors lining each level.

"My room is one of these?" I ask, a little confused, forgetting that Tate probably doesn't actually know.

"Yeah, what number is it?" He's waiting for my answer patiently, obviously prepared to help me find the right one.

"Umm... 109. It says second level."

"Perfect. I think the stairs are over here." Tate heads in the direction he indicated, expecting me to follow. "One of my friends had a room here last year, that's how I know the way. Most people don't live on campus so don't even know this building exists."

Rather sweetly, he grabs my suitcase from the ground beside me and before I can protest, carries it up the stairs. I walk up behind him, smiling at his broad back. This guy is definitely a keeper.

I feel weird passing so many doors, just imagining the dozens of people behind them that I might potentially run into on my way to and from classes. Or as I prefer to call it: unnecessary awkwardness.

I almost run into Tate's back when he comes to a sudden halt at one corner of the building. "This is the one," he announces, as if I can't see the numbers on the front of the door.

"I don't have a key or anything, do I just knock?"

Tate scratches the back of his neck, unsure. "Worth a go, I guess."

I lean around him and knock loudly on the door, hoping that they would hurry up and answer so I didn't have to stand out here awkwardly.

I'm pleased to hear the sound of shuffling inside, but still a little startled when the door flies open and I'm met with a very bare and very tattooed chest. But this isn't a female chest (thank God) and while that observation is relieving, the fact that a shirtless guy is opening the door of my new room makes me want to board the next plane to Sydney and get a job at McDonald's instead.

I look up to meet the rather angry blue eyes of one of the most gorgeous boys I have ever seen. His dark brown hair reminds me of some boy band member I used to have a poster of when I was sixteen. My amazement immediately curdles when I hear the first words out of his mouth.

"Please don't tell me that you're my new roommate."