He turns to face me. “A girl like you deserves pretty things.”
I frown, shoving that comment away, something I’ve learned to do well with him. “What’s in the duffle? A cute lamp? Some posters?”
He gives the room one last look. “No time to waste with small talk. These need to be filled stat, and I suggest changing out of that white shirt and putting on pants.”
What?
He opens the duffle and pulls out a bag of multi-colored balloons.
“Are we going to have a party? I’ll call Wyatt and Piper.” I’m joking. I’m not in the party mood.
He darts a look at me. “Prank night at Arlington. Wyatt didn’t tell you?”
I shrug. He’s spotty in the dorm, plus he’s on a different floor.
“It’s an annual thing, and I heard this afternoon that it might be tonight. Seems it’s a secret until it happens then all hell breaks loose.” He pauses. “Hijinks are about to ensue, and if someone knocked on your door, that might have been code for Get ready. Unless you want to hide under your bed and hope for the best…”
I rear back. “I was born ready, and I have heard of prank night. Even the staff gets involved, right? Or at least they let it slide as long as we clean up? Guess it slipped my mind since I’ve never lived in the dorms until now.” I eye him. “Thank you for paying for my room. I don’t think I ever said that the day in the auditorium.” Because things got a little hot and heavy. “I’m going to pay you back someday.”
He pauses in his handoff of a wad of balloons. “You don’t have to. Here, you take these and start filling them.”
“Bossy Shark,” I murmur as he drops half the balloons in my outstretched hands then rushes into my tiny bathroom.
I follow, and he’s in the small shower with the cold water on, his hands filling up a pink balloon.
“Take the sink. Don’t fill them too much—we don’t want them to burst.” He grins widely, and I blink, gaping at the football player in my shower.
“You’re like, really into this, aren’t you?”
“Less talking, more filling, Tulip. I came to help you and we’re gonna kick ass together, you feel me?” He flicks water in my direction. “Get to work.”
I like this side of him. “You participate every year?”
“Nope. This is for you.”
This is for you.
I let that settle and file in his dossier to savor when he’s gone.
A few minutes later, we’ve collected a pile of about fifty balloons, and he’s placing them back in his duffle with careful hands. I’ve got damp splotches on my camisole and his shirt is soaked and sticking to him, catching spray from the faucet.
“How many do we need?” I ask.
“All of them. This isn’t a night you want to be shorthanded.” His eyes drift over me, starting at my legs, lingering on my chest before coming up to my face. “Babe, as much as I like seeing you in booty shorts, you need to change. I’m talking sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt. Tennis shoes might be a good idea so you don’t slip.”
I gape again. “How bad is this going to get?”
Another wide grin.
I shake my head. “You are crazy. Fine, fine, let me change.” I march over to my dresser, pull out a pair of leggings, and pull them on over my shorts. When I turn around, he’s watching me, eyes low and heavy. “This work?”
He clears his throat. “Anything works on you.”
There’s a clatter out in the hall as if something metal has hit the floor.
I yelp, nearly jumping off the floor. “Is that the start? What was that noise?”
He walks over to me slowly, puts a finger to my lips. “Don’t be jumpy. I won’t let anyone hurt you. We got this, babe.”
My heart flies. Holy shit, he’s touched my lips! I feel a sudden rush of heat, and I must be crazy because my mouth opens and I nip at his finger. “Don’t call me babe, Shark. I’m the least babe girl there is in the whole world.” And Chance called me that.
He lowers his hand slowly. “Don’t call me Shark and we have a deal.”
“Fine.”
“I’m not giving up Tulip. I like it very much.”
“Didn’t say you had to.”
His gaze lands on my mouth. “Good.”
The moment is broken when another clatter comes from the hallway.
He walks back to the door.
“What’s the signal?” I say, secretly hoping he shushes me again.
“We’ll know it when we hear—”
HONK!
A blaring air horn slices through the silence, loud and irritating. “Oh shit!” I yell, adrenaline pumping.
He grabs the duffle and puts a few balloons in my hand. “Follow me,” he says, and then he inches the door open.
We enter the hall, and he’s crouched down to make himself a smaller target. I instinctively follow close behind.
“Use me as a shield, got it?”
I nod, feeling the heat coming off his back, tracing my eyes over his broad shoulders—
Ugh. I’m about to get into a water war, and all I can think about is a guy.
The hallway is as quiet as a church on Sunday.
“I’m starting to think the prank is you making me think there’s something going on.” I peek over him to get a better look around and see a cluster of girls several feet away.
A huge water balloon bursts on my chest, and I sputter.
“Booyah! Nailed one!” calls a female voice as a group of underclassman girls run toward us from the end of the hall, flinging balloons.
“Hit ’em!” calls Knox, and I return fire, hitting the floor instead of the gaggle of girls. Dang. How did I miss all of them?
“Your aim sucks,” he groans, and I glare at him.
“I’m just warming up. Give me a minute—”
Another one hits me on the cheek, water drenching my face and sliding down my throat.
“You know, we could just hide in my room,” I call out as I lob another one and it bounces off the wall. One of the girls picks it up and throws it back at us, hitting Knox square on the head. I bite my lip to stop the giggle.
He was looking at me, caught unaware, and well, it’s funny. He wipes water off of him. “We could hide in your room if you want.”
I shiver. There was…a little bit of heat in his voice.
I pick at a piece of purple balloon stuck to his face. “No, I think I like seeing you getting clobbered with water balloons by a bunch of girls—”
One flies past us, splattering on the floor. “True. We can’t let these whiny underclassmen beat us.”
I pick up another one, and just when they’re about twenty feet away, I sail it across and it splats on Camilla’s pretty blonde head. She just darted out of her room wearing a bemused expression and got in the way. I grimace, wishing I’d hit someone else. She’s not exactly rude to me, just withdrawn.
Knox nails two of the girls, which slows them down, but there are only two of us and several of them, including a group of guys who’ve suddenly shown up.
We run down the hall to see another group approaching from the opposite direction, throwing balloons at us and at the group behind us. Shit, stuck in the middle. Apparently, it’s a free-for-all.
“In here!” Knox yells, yanking open the door to a maintenance closet near the stairwell.
We dive in and shut the door, hearing balloons burst outside.
He glances down at my water-soaked camisole.
“I told you to change. Your nipples are hard.”
I elbow him. “Eyes on my face, football player.”
He stares at me. Frowns.
“What?” I ask.
“How are your knees and elbows?”
“Good.” They are better, nice and scabbed over and itchy, but they don’t hurt.
He exhales and gets a grim look on his face.
I sigh. “Knox…don’t. I’ll be okay.”
I don’t want to dwell on it, and I don’t want him losing friends over me either.
There’s a long silence as we stare at each other.
He scrubs his face and looks away from me. “I’m sorry about the auditorium—”
Someone out in the hall screams and giggles, cutting him off. “Let’s just have fun, okay?” My chest twinges and I rub it before dropping my hands.
“What’s wrong?”
I look away from him. “Nothing.”
“Who’s in your locket?” he asks softly. I glance back at him and pop it open, and he leans in to study it. “Tyler?”
I nod. “He’s all I have.”
He tucks a strand of hair over my ear. “Yeah, I get it. It’s Dane for me.”
“Catch them!” someone exclaims from the hallway.
“I’m allergic!” another girl yells.
“What the hell—” Knox says just as a white and black furry arm reaches under the door, claws extended as it pats around the floor.
“Holy cats! That is a cat, right?” I ask. “What on earth is going on out there?” Ludicrous statement, considering the mayhem.
He opens the door, and a small striped feline darts into the closet, gives us a scathing hiss, and then hides behind a mop bucket.
We lean past the door and peek out. People—and cats—are dashing everywhere.
I frown. “Why involve innocent animals? Geeze.”
Another water balloon hits me in the side of the head as we venture out. “Dammit!” I yell at whoever threw it, but they’re already running away.