Saving Us [Published]

3. Unexpected Guest

The knock on my bedroom door the next afternoon brought on my groan. Rum swizzle hangovers, unlike the drink, were the worst. I was also hoping to sleep long enough to forget I'd met Michael B. Jordan's doppelganger and told him I couldn't possibly hang out with him. I was such an idiot.

"What do you want?" I asked from under my pillow.

Sunlight was death. Maybe I should check myself for bite marks? If I'd become a vampire, at least I might be able to legitimately avoid Sebastian for eternity. Vampires are only sexy in fiction.

"Ah, Johnny and some of his friends are going to be here in an hour to watch the game with us," Annika called from behind the bedroom door.

I groaned again and rolled over. "Okay!" I stared at the ceiling. "You want me to stick around?"

"Ah..." Annika trailed off.

"You can come in." I bunched the covers around me, and she opened the door. Raising myself onto my elbows, I scooted over so she could sit at the foot of my bed. "What's wrong?"

Annika took a deep breath. "We need to clean the house, get snacks, get booze, get ready and," she checked her watch, panic evident on her face, "we only have an hour." She collapsed back onto my bed.

I flopped back and enjoyed the moment of peace. Any second, she was going to erupt into a volcano of action. Annika had two speeds: do everything all the time or impersonate a sloth. There was no in between.

"Okay!" She jumped up and clapped her hands. "You clean because you like that more. I'll go out and get alcohol, snacks and then get ready."

I nodded but made no motion to get up. "You know this isn't the Super Bowl game, right?" Or maybe it was? There was a lot of pre-planning for that game last year, so it was unlikely she was starting preparations this late.

She paused in the doorway, thrust out her hip, and attached her hand to it. "Nat."

I knew that warning tone and stance. "Right." I threw back the covers.

"It's just..." She clutched her hands together in prayer. "I've spent a year hoping he'd notice me, and he has. He wants to spend time with me and I..." She faltered, her dark eyes pleading.

I sighed. "Honestly, I get it." I shoved my feet into my slippers and stood up. "I'm sorry. I'm hungover, and I feel like an ass about Sebastian. Sorry."

She grinned. "He's coming today. I didn't want to say anything until I knew whether you were going to be weird about it."

"He'll bore me to death—that's what's going to happen. There's no way we have anything even remotely in common." I shuffled around my room. My hand strayed to my hair. I'd kill for a ponytail. At this rate, I would never cut my hair again. What had I been thinking?

On the dresser, my phone buzzed. My heart kicked at the name.

Heard you were at the frat party last night. Just texting to make sure you got home okay.

I flipped the screen facedown and followed Annika out of my room. Not in the mood for that bullshit this morning. When I'd called off our relationship, I'd told him I wanted to stay friends, but his version of that and mine were a little different. Sometimes his texts were possessive instead of friendly.

"Clay?" Annika eyed my empty hand. She teased me all the time that my phone was like a third hand.

"Yep." I grabbed the cleaning supplies from under the sink. I surveyed the living room and kitchen. We weren't super clean, but we were reasonably tidy. Maybe I could get this done quickly? "We're doing a round clean, right?"

"Yeah, of course. Go around everything. Guys don't care if you move stuff and clean under it." She grabbed her keys, a shopping list, and disappeared out the door.

As I squirted cleaners and wiped down surfaces, I wondered if I'd get a chance to change my mind about Sebastian. Did I even want to change my mind? He was so freaking hot, but it was clear from watching him last night, he had no trouble getting female company. Why would he try with me again? One rejection was probably more than enough for his ego.

Annika was back before I knew it, and we flew around the house in a blur of showers, blow dryers and subtly applied makeup. Scratch that—Annika's makeup wasn't subtle. The annoying part was that she didn't need much makeup. She went from pretty to stop in your tracks gorgeous with a few swishes from a mascara brush. Her typical skinny jeans and jersey completed her outfit.

"Do you have another jersey?" I asked on impulse.

"What?" She flicked her loose waves over her shoulder and turned to me. "Did you just ask to borrow a football jersey?"

I shrugged. "We've never had actual football players in the house before, just a bunch of wannabes. Maybe I need a jersey?"

She raised her eyebrows, opened a drawer, and threw a jersey at me. "It's a little outdated, but you'll look retro. He was a good player once." She winked and then picked up the mascara brush for one last swish.

I tugged it on over my t-shirt and admired myself in the mirror beside her. A knock sounded at the door. Our eyes met in the mirror, and she didn't have to ask. I turned on my heel and headed to answer, not checking to see who was there first.

I swung the door open and immediately regretted not peeking.

"Clay," I said in a flat voice. "What are you doing here?"

He scanned me over from head to toe and raised his eyebrows. "I was worried when you didn't text back. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

Voices drifted on the wind, coming up the street behind him and I hoped it wasn't all the football guys.

I threw my hands out and gave him a tight smile. "Nope, I'm totally fine."

"You're wearing a football jersey?" He cocked his head to the side.

"Yep." The loud voices were football players, for sure. This was going to get super weird in a minute.

The worst part of having him turn up unexpectedly was that he made my heart hurt a little. I thought we'd broken up on reasonably good terms, but here he was on my doorstep, wearing his good jeans and one of his best plaid shirts. Not an outfit to check up on someone.

"Was there something else you were wondering about?" Behind him, Johnny turned up the pathway to our townhouse flanked by five or six other guys. No Sebastian. My shoulders slumped.

"Are you okay?" Clay glanced over his shoulder. When he focused on me again, his eyes were wide. "Is that Johnny McDade?"

I shrugged. "Yes?"

They swarmed Clay from behind. Johnny checked him over and smiled, but the warmth didn't reach his eyes. "You here for the game?" Johnny asked. "Annika said there was sometimes a crowd."

Clay was clearly starstruck, and I was just about to answer for him when he said, "Yeah, I am. My name's Clay. It's so great to meet you. I'm a big fan." He thrust out his hand, and I cringed.

Great. Just great.

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