Camryn Quinn is finally getting what she wants...sort of. Moving into a dorm and away from her not so supportive father is a good first step, but like everything with him-it comes with strings. She must attend the college of his choosing for at leas...
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The elevator pings, delivering me to the second floor. As I exit I make a right and walk down to the end of the hallway, stopping in front of the last door straight at the end of the hallway. I stare into the black of the metal that leads into my brother's apartment.
I could hear music blaring from the elevator. Something with a deep bass and inaudible lyrics. I wasn't one hundred percent, but now that I'm standing here I know for a fact that it is coming from beyond Cal's door. I drop my head for a second and take a deep breath. I attempt to muster up the courage to knock on the door, even though I have no desire to be a part of whatever lies on the other side. But desperate times call for even more desperate measures.
I knock three times in quick concession, but there is no answer. I pull my phone out to call Callan instead of injuring my knuckles to make a knock loud enough to be heard over the song that I can now hear clearly. The lyrics are sung by Kanye, although I have no idea what the song is. I was only tipped off because someone on the other side of the door yelled a very loud, "YAY!"
Just as I swipe to my most important contacts and press his picture the door swings open. I'm met with the white t-shirt covered torso of a person who isn't my brother. My eyes scan upwards to put a face with the body not stopping until the head of a cowboy meets the collar of the shirt. I can tell he's tall from the way I have to crane my neck up past my already five foot seven frame to meet his face.
Instinctively, I complete a full body scan. Brown hair trapped underneath a backwards ball cap, the strap high on his forehead. The locks continue past the edge of the cap, cascading down the back of his neck in messy waves stopping just past the collar of his plain white t-shirt. The shirt is stretched thin across his broad chest, the outline of his muscles clearly visible under the sheer fabric.
I refer to him as a cowboy because as my scan continues he is wearing a pair of obviously well loved bluejeans with a single rip on his right knee, neglecting to conform to the fact that it is easily ninety degrees outside still. On his feet, I can see a pair of brown boots, the pointed toe poking out beneath the bootcut fabric of his jeans. Again, a questionable choice considering the current conditions outside. I quickly find his eyes again and find them looking directly into mine. On second inspection, I can see that they are clearly green. The brightest shade of emerald, actually. Of course they are though. Only males are blessed with features that us females can only lust after.
"Where's the food?" he says with a slight emphasis on the ew sound in food. Giving even more conviction to the cowboy persona he displays.
"Excuse me?" I spout.
"I may be wrong, but when you deliver food you are supposed to hand me the food," He says as he mimics the motions of me offering food and him taking it. I nearly miss it though as I continue to watch the mustache above his lips move with each word he utters.
