Find Her, Keep Her (CFTM Sequel)

Chapter 6 (Part 3)

*Note: Click the Youtube link above to listen to the Audiobook Version of this chapter voiced by Kristen Maglonzo featuring music by Switchfoot, Secondhand Serenade, Mika, and Travis Garland.

Elias

So, being semi-famous kind of has its perks.

Not only did the meter maid let me off with a warning and a hug, she got a group of Segway cops to escort me back to my dorm once I got pulled over.

Win-win situation--right?

Wrong.

'Cause she waltzed straight up to my bare bones room and gave Tanner the run down of my buggy stealing ways.

Mistake number one: Telling my brother anything.

The second she left, he chewed me out in front of his teammates and then asked my Beach Barbie RA to keep an eye on me so I don't leave my room for the rest of the evening.

He's just pissed he's not getting laid .

Whatever.

He can punish me all he wants, I don't mind being on lockdown right now, 'cause everything I need's right on this floor.

I've been creeping on the room across the hall for the last half hour, trying to figure out if anyone's moved in yet.

Problem is, if I go over and knock on the door, the Stepford Wife wannabe next door will try to jump me.

No joke.

I tried taking a couple moving boxes out to the trash earlier, and she flirted with me the whole way there and back.

Do I remember the conversation?

No.

Do I remember her name?

No.

Do I remember how many sleep with me smiles she flashed in my direction?

Absolutely.

32.

I counted.

So basically, physically stalking my soon-to-be neighbor's out of the question...for now.

I step away from my post for a couple seconds and stare out at my new room. It's pretty lame compared to Caleigh's place, but hey, at least it's mine. Desk, chair, mini-fridge, bed, and a crap ton of boxes.

Tanner and his friends did most of the unpacking for me, but thanks to his OCD, I don't know where the hell anything is.

All my clothes are folded and organized in a dresser I'm pretty sure I'll never use. My nicer shirts and pants are on hangers and my casual stuff's actually put away in the right place for once.

Yeah, this isn't gonna work.

I open a couple drawers and mess up everything inside just to make something about this place feel like home. Once I figure out where Tanner put my Foo-Fighters posters, my Playboy magazines, and my piece of crap acoustic guitar I'll be good.

It's no penthouse, but at least the room's big enough for me to move around in. Tanner lived in a hamster cage his first year with three other dudes. You can imagine how that place smelled. But, like I said, being semi-famous has its perks. Living solo is one of them.

I'm not even half way through screwing up Tanner's neat little piles of my socks when somebody knocks on my front door.

I freeze up.