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I yanked the sheets off and grabbed the rest of my dirty clothes before storming down to the basement laundry room and shoving everything into a machine. Normally, I would have taken my laundry to my uncle’s house to avoid the highway robbery of the dorm machines, but I didn’t exactly have a spare sheet set since this bed was some special-ass size that only existed at colleges, so I had no choice.
I didn’t have time for this. Not only had I promised to stop by Grace’s dorm to help her hang twinkle lights, but I also needed to meet with two of the new fight recruits to make sure they were good to go for Friday night.
But on the plus side, my roommate escalating things meant I was winning our private war.
McNeely had been running scared for the past few days. I still didn’t know how he’d ended up living on campus, let alone getting assigned to share a room with me, but he seemed to be stuck. Despite his promise to relocate, the guy was still here.
Or at least his shit was. The man himself had been a ghost for the past two nights.
A ghost who jizzed all over my bed.
And one who spent way too much money on fancy lube. I’d gone ahead and stashed that in my own drawer, thank you very much, and did him a solid by sliding a pair of my undies under his pillow.
Fucking prick.
As soon as my laundry was done, I shoved it into my closet and set out for Gracie’s dorm.
“I found someone who wants to fight,” she said after greeting me with a big hug.
I pulled back and stared down at her, her shiny brown hair up in a complicated braid thing on top of her head.
Gracie knew about the fights, but I’d warned her away from attending in the strictest of terms, especially when I was fighting. She was going to be a brilliant lawyer someday. The less she associated herself with this stuff, the better.
“You’re supposed to be concentrating on school. I don’t need you finding me fighters,” I reminded her for the millionth time. “Especially at the beginning of a new year.”
Testosterone-fueled freshmen always wanted in on the action, fronting with their bros by trying to get a spot in the ring. My job was to separate the weak idiots from the strong ones. The last thing any of us needed was a broken rich kid spilling the beans about the Pit in the local emergency room.
“I’m not doing you a favor,” she retorted. “He’s here on a wrestling scholarship and needs money for a flight home at Christmas. I said I’d give you his number. He’s super sweet. I met him in the cafeteria.”
I grunted. “Give me his number, and then stop thinking about this, okay?”
Her brown eyes flicked to mine, reminding me so much of our mother it took my breath away. “I can help, you know. I’m not a kid anymore. Not that I was ever younger than you anyway.”
I palmed the back of her head and pulled her into my chest for another hug. “You’re my fucking kid, asshole,” I muttered, repeating an old family joke instead of reminding her she was younger than me, even if only by several minutes.
“Thanks for coming to help with the lights,” she said. “Tabitha and I are doing a movie marathon later, and I want it to look all cozy in here.”
We worked together on the lights, stringing them around the top of the cinder block walls until the room did look cozier than before. The entire time, Gracie chatted about how much she loved finally getting to live in the dorms, even though it made her feel silly.
“I still can’t believe Tabs agreed to live here with me,” she said with a laugh. “She’s got to be sick to death of the dorms by now.”
I shrugged, not bothering to remind her that Tabitha was there on scholarship and probably couldn’t afford an apartment off campus anyway.
“The girls next door are really nice. One of them’s in my accounting class, so I’m thinking I’ll ask her to study with me if she’s up for it.”
I loved listening to her talk about her collegiate experience as if she were just another Demere student. As if she had no other care in the world but to study and have fun.
I’d worked hard to make that possible. So had our uncle. And it was worth every single sacrifice.
“I hate that you got stuck with a random roommate assignment,” Grace volunteered, her brow creasing in sympathy. “That’s a hell of a lot less fun.”
“Eh. Don’t worry about me,” I told her. “I’m gonna have a great time with Bett McNeely. Promise.”
“Elliot.” She narrowed her eyes. “Be nice.”
“Me? I’m always nice,” I said, faking outrage. Then added, “To people who deserve it.”
My phone buzzed with a call from Dalton before she could scold me further.