3. Cruz

"Agh!" My body barely hits the mattress before I spring off it and scoot backward, my reflexes putting distance between me and… What was that? WHO was that?

"The hell is wrong with you?" A lamp clicks on across the room, and even though I need to know what's happening I can't keep from shutting my eyes to block out the intrusive light as an agitated voice asks, "Who the fuck are you?"

Blinking the room into focus, my jaw falls open as recognition hits. "Sunshine?"

"Sunshine?Do I look like a goddamn ray of sunshine to you?" Angry hazel eyes bore into mine.

"Uh… I meant it ironically." I push myself off the floor, scanning the room to orient myself. If my bags are still on that bed, and he's in this one… Oh, shit. "William?"

"Liam." His jaw is locked so tight I'm surprised he got that one word out.

"Liam. Cool. So, anyhow, when I left this evening, and you weren't here, I figured that meant you weren't arriving until tomorrow. I didn't expect anyone to be in the room, so I wasn't paying attention to which bed I fell into.

"You seem to do that a lot."

"Do what?"

"Ignore everything and everyone around you."

My nostrils flare as his insult lands. "And you seem determined to be mad at the world, Sunshine."

"Don't call me that," my new roommate barks, and once again, even though I'm the one who wasn't paying attention, I'm not sure my mixup deserves a death glare.

"I could go with Oscar? Or Scrooge?" Am I antagonizing him? Maybe. But I'm okay with it since he insulted me like a first-grader.

"Cute. Sorry I'm not happy about having a strange man climb in my bed in the middle of the night."

"Maybe if it was that guy from the party, you wouldn't be so opposed," I mutter under my breath.

"Excuse me?"

Shit. I didn't mean for him to hear that.

I clear my throat awkwardly. "I saw you kissing that dude."

"So?"

"So, clearly you aren't that opposed to men falling into your bed." I cross my arms in front of my chest, proud of my comeback.

Liam's glare turns downright vicious. "You have a problem with that?"

"What?" My arms fall to my sides as I realize how that might've sounded. "No. Fuck no," I add when his expression doesn't change. "My cousin's gay. I have zero issues with two guys together." I think I'm fucking this up.

"What are you saying then?"

"I'm saying your problem seems specific to me, not all guys." Yep, totally fucking up. Damn beer pong.

"The problem being how you collapsed in my bed uninvited?" His eyebrows disappear behind the hair hanging over his forehead, daring me to object.

"No. Yes. Shit." I run a nervous hand through my hair. "You know what I mean. I think. I'm tired and a little buzzed and my words are fuzzy, but I apologized for getting confused and I meant it. Can we call a truce? At least until morning."

His expression leads me to believe there won't be a truce. Ever. But he must be as tired as I am since he reaches for the lamp as he huffs, "Fine. But if you snore, I will throw anything within arm's reach at your head."

As quietly as I can, I set my bags on the floor, grab my pillow and blanket, and fall into a deep sleep. And since my head is still intact by morning, I assume that means I didn't snore. I also must have slept through my roommate getting up and leaving since I seem to be alone in the room, which suits me fine. It gives me time to shower and unpack, which I'm just finishing up when he gets back.

"Hey," I say awkwardly when he comes in, that ever-present scowl visible even under the sandy blond hair that swoops low over his forehead.

"Hey." Liam retrieves an iPad from his desk and sits on his bed.

"So, my pieces are still intact. I guess that means I didn't keep you up?"

Over the years I"ve cringed countless times at my dad's corny jokes, but apparently that"s my default panic setting. I"m not sure how to feel about it either. Awkward is a new world for me.

"No," he replies curtly as he rests the tablet on his lap and reclines against the pillows.

"Well, either something else kept you up or you're still pissed."

"So, you can be observant." Liam uses his left forefinger to scroll over the screen.

"And you turn more sour by the minute, but you don"t hear me complaining do you? It"s called having manners. You should try it sometime."

"This coming from the guy who insulted my sexuality."

"That's not what I meant and you know it." I point an accusing finger at him. "Besides, you insulted me first. I was merely retaliating."

"What was the insult?" His steely gaze meets mine.

"That I ignore everything around me."

"You practically ran me over in the hall yesterday, then fell into my bed like I wasn't there. So, implying you're ignorant of your surroundings is more of a fact than an insult."

I let my hand fall to my side with a heavy exhale. "Harsh, but I see your point. Still, those were accidents. Innocent mistakes. Are you going to hold them against me forever?"

The question seems to take some of the venom out of his gaze. "And my being gay?"

"What about it?"

"You don't have a problem with it?"

"Fuck no." I shake my head vehemently.

"Then why the quip about liking guys in my bed?"

"Because I was drunk and stupid? Because I felt the need to take a cheap shot like you did? Because I was trying to be funny and it didn't land? I honestly don't know. Probably some combination of the three."

"So, if I brought a guy back here…?"

"I don't care who you fuck, if that's what you're asking. Although, I'd rather not have a front row seat. And before you assume I'm singling you out, that goes for gay and straight sex. Voyeurism isn't my thing."

"It was last night," he says.

I guess he's got me there.

"That was… I'd never seen two guys make out so it caught my attention for a second then I moved on. It wasn't like I set up a chair to watch. I didn't watch anyone else making out either, I just talked with my friend."

Liam seems to mull that over, and based on the way the crease between his brows seems to fade a bit I think he accepts my answer.

"What's with all the workout gear?" He tips his head toward the stack of clothes on my bed that hadn't yet made it into the dresser. It's not an apology—maybe a peace offering—so I take it.

"I go through a lot of clothes during two-a-days."

"Football?" He arches a skeptical brow.

"Something wrong with that?" I'm not sure why I phrase the question like that. Intuition, I guess. But he doesn't explain his look.

"Aren't you in the wrong place?"

"Why would you say that?" I put the clothes in a drawer.

"This is the honors dorm."

"Athletes can't be smart?" I arch my brow the same way he does when he doesn't seem to like what I say.

"I didn't say that. I just thought they had special dorms for athletes."

"They do. I requested this one."

"Why?" Liam chews on his lip like he's puzzling through that answer.

"As much as I love the game, I've got less than a two percent chance of going pro, so I need to get a degree while I'm here. Why are you in this dorm?"

"What do you mean?" He wrinkles his nose.

"Isn't that a lacrosse stick over there?" I nod toward the corner of the room, where a stick easily six feet tall is propped against the wall.

"Smart guys can't be athletic?"

"I didn't say that." I mirror his earlier words. "You're an athlete, then?"

"Club, not NCAA."

"Still counts." I put the last of my clothes in the drawer and close it.

"Not to everyone," he says quietly.

"I'm not everyone. You go to practice, put in the effort, you're an athlete as far as I'm concerned." For the first time I don't see any animosity in his gaze. Confusion maybe, but not anger.

He flicks his head, moving his hair away from his hazel eyes as he watches me curiously. But he doesn't speak. It's not confirmation that we're gonna be friends, but at least he's not glaring at me. I take it as a win.

"So, how does that work? The club thing, I mean. Are there a bunch of teams on campus and you play them?"

"No, we play other colleges."

Now it's my turn to wrinkle my nose. "That sounds just like football. How come it's only a club thing?"

"Title XI. For every men's sport a school offers they have to offer a corresponding female sport."

"So? Women's lacrosse is a thing."

"Yeah." Liam flicks his head only for his hair to fall right back over his eyes. "But it's not just the sport itself, it's the scholarships. Football and cheerleading would be considered corresponding sports, but there are way more scholarships for football than cheerleading, so even if a school adds both men's and women's lacrosse the balance of scholarships would be out of whack considering the number of scholarships football takes up."

My head bobs slowly as I absorb this information. "That's why you don't like football."

"I never said that."

"Your expression did. It's okay," I tell him when I see his head start to move back and forth. "I won't be offended if you're not a fan."

"That's not why I don't like football."

"Okay, I'll bite. Why don't you like it?"

A somewhat vacant look settles on Liam's face. "It's not important."

Based on his expression, I'm pretty sure it is, but I don't press considering we're actually talking right now. Unfortunately, that doesn't mean I don't stick my foot in my mouth. Again.

"So, you're an athlete, and I saw you kissing a dude last night."

"And?" Liam's jaw appears to lock tight.

"I thought most athletes stayed in the closet, but it seems like you're out."

Liam rolls his eyes. "Saying you can be observant wasn't an invitation to invade my privacy."

I hold my hands up in surrender. "I'm trying not to invade your privacy. I want to know if I'm supposed to keep what I saw secret from your teammates. Or anyone really. Do people know?"

He sighs heavily. "It's not a secret, but I'm not broadcasting it either."

"You're not worried about your teammates finding out? Not all locker rooms are welcoming."

"I know," he grits.

"So, you're cool with your teammates knowing? I'm not gonna out you on accident if I…point out a good-looking guy or something?"

"Is this your way of outing yourself? Hinting that you could spot a hot guy?" This time the arch in his brow is curious instead of challenging, and I don't know if it's because I'm trying to establish a rapport, that I feel it's only fair to take my turn in the hot seat, or I just want someone to be real with after months of missing my best friend, but I find myself telling him the thing I've never admitted to anyone before. Except Xavier, but he's...

I have to clear my throat to get the words out. "I recognize when people are attractive. I just don't feel attracted to them myself."

"You're ACE?" To his credit, his eyes don't get really wide when he asks that.

"Either that or demi, I think. I've never been as close to anyone as my friend Xavier and I never felt anything for him other than friendship, but I know he was good looking, so...yeah. Probably ACE."

Liam gives me a curt nod, and I brace for him to follow that up with another question. Only he asks the last thing I expect. "You don't really tell people that, do you?" he asks.

Now it's my turn to give a sharp nod.

"Why tell me?"

"Honestly? No idea. And like you, I'm not ashamed, I just don't want to field a bunch of questions I don't have the answers to myself. That or have my teammates make it their mission to find me someone I might like. I know they'd mean well, but I don't want to be anyone's charity case."

"Fair enough," Liam says, and he actually lets the subject drop. Just like that. It makes me appreciate him in spite of his prickly demeanor.

"Shit." I run my hand through my hair. "That was heavier than I intended to get on a Saturday morning. I guess this means our truce still holds?"

"Yeah." I swear he almost smiles, which makes me crack one in return. "It still holds."