“Aren’t you on vacation?” I asked.
“One more week and it’s finals. Junior year algebra three is kicking my butt.”
“Want some help? I used to tutor high-school math back in Colorado.”
“You wouldn’t mind?”
“Not in the least,” I answered with an easy smile.
“Nice to see you again,” a vaguely familiar guy said as he signed in, a bag slung across his shoulder. He flashed me a smile. He was good-looking, but my usual hot-guy response must have been broken, because he didn’t so much as stir my interest.
“Welcome back,” I said with a polite smile, trying to remember where I’d seen him before.
He laughed. “You don’t remember me. It’s okay. I’m Will. I’m the one who called Jagger a few weeks ago.”
Ugh. The hot one from the bar. Because I wasn’t embarrassed enough already today. “Nice to meet a friend of Jagger’s. Well, officially meet since I’m guessing you didn’t exactly get my best side last time.”
His grin was contagious. “Well, if you’d ever like to show me your best side—”
“No chance, Carter. Not happening.” Grayson said as he walked over, dressed in shorts and a loose tank. My heart jumped and my breath caught at the possessive glance that swept over me before glaring at Will. Maybe I wasn’t broken; I was simply having a hard time comparing guys to Grayson. Shit. That was inconvenient.
“Whoa, you marking territory, Masters?” Will teased.
“She’s my new roommate, so hands and eyes off, or I’ll explain the many different ways in which you really are second-choice Carter.” The muscle in Grayson’s jaw flexed.
“You’re an asshole.” Carter tipped his hat. “Ma’am, you have my most sincere sympathy at your living situation.” He turned back to Grayson. “We still on for Memorial day?”
Grayson smacked his back. “You bet. Barbecue starts at two, but I’m missing out. I’ll be home.”
“Ah, yes, the mysterious trips. We’ll catch you when you’re back.” Will nodded and headed to the locker room.
“He’s an acquired taste,” Grayson explained.
“Yes, you are,” I responded, tossing him a flirtatious smile and digging into the algebra book with Avery. Crap. I’d just flirted. With my roommate. I needed to watch that. I also needed to not ogle him lifting weights between learning my job and helping Avery out.
Epic fail.
He got me a job. Thank God. Such a simple thing, but simply knowing it made breathing easier, like I’d been under water for so long that coming up had me drunk on oxygen and possibilities.
He took me home a couple hours later.
“Thank you,” I told him as we walked up the stairs to our bedrooms. Josh and Jagger were both on the main floor, which gave us the entire second story of the split level.
“You’re welcome. You’ll be on your own next weekend, since I’ll be going home.” He gave me a nod and headed into his room.
“Why do you go home so often?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me. “Will wasn’t the first person to say something about it.”
He turned, hand on his doorknob. “What’s the pool up to?” He countered with that half smirk that was sexy as hell. Oh, so inconvenient.
“No pool, just wondering.”
He studied me for a moment, making me wait so long that I figured he was going to blow me off. The intensity he wore so easily was exhausting to be around, draining me mentally because I couldn’t stop wondering what he was thinking.
“Everyone is accountable for something, Samantha. Me included.”
He shut the door on me and the topic.
The sirens woke me, piercing through the haze of sleep better than any latte could have. My legs didn’t get the we’re awake memo and buckled under me as I stumbled from the bed.
The clock flashed 1:37 a.m. Wednesday morning. Wait. Thursday morning. Whatever. With the late shifts I’d been pulling at the gym for almost a week now, I’d only been asleep an hour.
“What the hell?” I called out, peeking between the mini blinds. A few neighbors stood on their porches, all wrapped in robes or pajamas.
“Grayson?” I yelled, tripping into the hallway. His door was open, the bed as messy as I figured I’d ever see it, but he wasn’t in it.
I raced down the stairs, shouting “Guys?” before I remembered that Jagger and Josh were out of town for a few days on a detail. Holy shit, that siren was loud. Like being bombed at Pearl Harbor loud, or tornado in Kansas loud. Shit. Tornado.
There was no way. Right? We were in southeast Alabama, not the Midwest. Did we have a shelter? That close call while we were stationed at Fort Leavenworth was bad enough, but we’d had a shelter.
I adjusted the girls inside my shelf-bra, those things never were enough support, and then swung open the front door. Humidity, thick and heavy, hit me in the face, almost as if I could drink the air. Wind gusted, whipping branches of the lilac tree against the porch railing.
The siren blasted from the electric post four houses down. “What’s going on?” I yelled toward our neighbors.
“Tornado warning,” Grayson answered from behind me, his voice low and raspy from sleep. He reached around me, showing me his cell phone alert.
Tornado Warning, Coffee County, AL until 3:30 a.m. Seek shelter immediately.
“Where are we? Kansas? This is so not right.” A knot formed in my stomach. There were very few things that scared me, but tornadoes were on that list. They made me small, insignificant, and powerless to my own fate. I’d had enough of that lately, thank you very much.