Page 494 of Lessons in Cruelty

I spin around, halting her halfway up the stairs as I put a finger to my mouth, hissing, “Shh!”

She literally stays quiet for a single beat, and barely lowers her voice. “My sorority is just down the road. I should⁠—”

“Last I checked, someone slashed your mattress,” I whisper back. “Or were you planning on sleeping on the couch?”

She tries to pull out of my hand as we reach the landing. “You slashed my mattress?” she whisper-shouts.

I spin around, pushing her into the wall and clamping a hand over her loud-ass mouth. “Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” I deliver each word in a low, urgent puff of breath.

That’s another image going into my spank bank. My hand over Haven’s mouth, wide enough to cover the entire lower half of her face. I press a little harder against her, and there’s the briefest tightening of her eyes when my dick grinds into her hip.

Does she want me to get caught sneaking a girl into my room? NEX has a ton of rules, but only a handful are actually punishable.

No perishables in your room.

No pissing in the house plants—the exception being the bush outside by the door, I guess because it’s already passed onto the next life.

And no girls, ever.

Riley gets a pass. We’d all be wading around in filth if our house girl didn’t come round every week. She’s an honorary frat bro after all the shit’s she’s put up with the past few semesters.

“We good?” I murmur.

Her eyes glitter as she slowly nods.

I swear I can feel her lips moving into a fucking grin.

I step back, tug her away from the wall by the neckline of my hoodie, and march her down the hall to my room.

No one steals in this place, so no one bothers locking their rooms. Except Dahmer…but he shouldn’t have bothered, because the only time someone went into his room was when we dared Nolan to do it, and he came running out all pale faced saying it smelled like formaldehyde.

He was tripping on shrooms. We all were. But still.

I gently press my door closed behind me, watching Haven as she scans my dark room. There’s a little light coming in from the window, the barest gleam of a streetlight. Enough to silhouette the bed, the desk, and the bookshelf.

“Our room is bigger,” she says quietly, even sounding snobby about it.

I let out a low huff as I open my closet and pull out clean clothes. “I don’t have to share.”

“But how do you fall asleep without someone snoring nearby?”

“Sometimes I can hear iPh—” I cut off, shake my head. “Blake.”

Haven turns, cocking her head when I hold out a pile of clothes for her to take.

“Just take it,” I mutter.

She nods, accepting the clothes with a tiny bow of her head. Closest I’ll get to a thank you from her. But if I wanted a simp, I’d be with Tanya Burrows from my macroeconomics class.

Haven’s always been a challenge. Mentally, physically.

Is that why I could never let her go?

“Do me a favor,” she says reluctantly, her lips twitching as she bites the inside.

When I frown, she rolls her eyes. “Please?”

I shrug. “Depends.”