6. Arlo

I climb out of his truck, and it”s not until he’s driving away that I remember my shirt in his back seat. Fuck.

“That wasn’t a cab,” Noah says, leaning on the wall outside my apartment building. “Are you wearing someone else”s shirt? Did you just hook up with someone you met at your reading? I knew I should have gotten up and taken you.”

“Why are you outside?” I ask, my eyes moving from his raised eyebrows to the bag at his feet. “Are you going back to school?”

“I’m the one asking the questions. Hey, Gordon, you want to know whose shirt he’s wearing, don’t you?” Noah asks, and Gordon’s voice comes from the speaker on Noah’s phone.

“Are you really wearing another guy”s shirt?”

I walk over and take a seat on the step. Noah sits beside me and passes me his phone. Gordon’s furrowed brow stares back at me from the screen.

“I am, but only because I spilled coffee on mine right before I was supposed to do the reading, and there were no shops nearby open to get a new one.”

Noah scoffs, but Gordon nods along on the screen like he believes me. I mean, why wouldn”t he? It’s not like I make it a habit to wear other men’s shirts, though this one smells so sweetly of cinnamon that I might need to start making it one.

“So, who was it?” Noah asks, nudging my side with his elbow.

“It should have been you, but you hit the drinks a little hard last night and were passed out when it was time to leave,” I reply.

“That isn’t an answer. But yeah, sorry, it was a…big night,” he replies with a slight smirk creeping onto his lips. “Who’d you call though?”

“Harrison was outside cleaning up and offered to take me,” I say, and Gordon’s eyes narrow on the screen.

“Harrison, like my Harry?”

“He’s not your Harry, but yes, Harrison who plays in your team. He offered, so I just…”

“I told him to stay away from you two, and I told you to stay away from the guys in the team.”

I laugh. “Harrison took me to a book reading, it’s not like we hooked up. Maybe you should ask Noah who he was hanging out with last night?”

Noah grabs the phone from my hand and ends the call with Gordon before he can ask him anything.

“Dude, not cool,” he complains. The phone rings immediately, and he clicks decline and puts it on silent.

“I’ve never been cool.”

“Sure, you have,” he says, standing and offering me a hand.

I reach out with my cast, and he laughs.

“See I’m making my point,” I say.

“You’ll always be cool to me.”

I let him help me stand and then nod toward the bag on the ground.

“Your turn. So, are you going back to school?”

“Yep, but don’t worry, Gordon said you can stay with him until your cast comes off.”

I don’t want to stay with Gordon. I didn’t want Noah to have to be pulled off campus to stay with me either. I might be clumsy but I can live alone.

“I’ll be okay,” I say, and his smile falls. “What?”

“Gordon said you had to agree to stay with him for me to go back.”

“He can’t stop you.”

“No, but he can stop loading up my meal card.”

“Ouch.” We all inherited money from Dad’s life insurance when he passed, and while Gordon and I have access to ours, Noah won’t get his hands on his until he’s completed his education. It’s all part of the terms of the will or something. Gordon funds his food, I think he scored a scholarship that covers part of his tuition, and then he works part time doing something on campus, or at least he did when he was there and not here looking after his big brother.

“I’d totally be cool to stay, but I’m VP now, and we have like three parties in the next month alone to prepare for.”

“I guess I can stay at Gordon’s for a while.”

He loops his arms around me.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

A horn beeps, and I turn to see three young guys, two with their heads out the windows of an idling jeep.

“Let’s go, bro,” the one in the driver”s seat calls while the others make whoop noises and tap the outside roof of the car.

“See you, Arlo,” he says, grabbing his bag and jogging down to the car as they cheer him on like he’s about to win gold.

I never had that experience in college. I went to a small art college that focused on graphics and storytelling. It’s not like I would have been accepted into a fraternity anyway, but Noah fits right in there. Half his hockey team are brothers in his frat house, too. I visited once for a family day with Gordon after Dad passed. The guys in the house all knew why we were there and not Dad, and made a real effort to make us feel welcome. Noah must have told them that I was a writer, too, because every person I spoke to that day from his fraternity kept asking if I had seen their awesome library.

I’m glad he’s going back. He should be there having fun, not here looking after me. Gordon shouldn”t be looking after me either. Hopefully, it will only take a day or two to convince him I’m okay on my own, that second trip to the hospital was a total fluke.

I head upstairs and make a start on packing, and Gordon arrives about an hour later.

“Please tell me you were joking about Noah before?” he asks, plonking down on my couch while I finish gathering my things. If I am staying there, I’ll need my sketch pads, laptop, notebooks, and drawing supplies. Wow, this really would be easier to just stay here.

“If it makes you feel better, he looked about the same age as him.”

He rubs the back of his neck with one hand. “I guess so. Well, how did the reading go?”

“It was actually good. I mean I got through it okay.”

“See, I told you that you had nothing to worry about. When’s the next one, I might be able to take you. If not, I can call you a car.”

“No worries, I”ve already arranged a ride,” I say, awkwardly looping my hair into a messy bun at the back of my head. “Harrison is taking me.”

Gordon’s eyebrows rise.

“Why?”

“He said he had nothing better to do and he had fun today. It was good for me having him there. He sat with the kids, and it was like it took the edge off or something, knowing someone in the room. I could focus, I guess.”

“But he didn’t hit on you?”

I laugh. “I don’t think you have to worry about him hitting on me. Guys like Harrison don’t hit on geeks like me.”

“I love Harry, but trust me, if you’ve got a dick, he’ll hit on you.”

My cheeks warm, and I turn away and pretend to look through my bag so he doesn”t read anything into it. Harrison is fucking hot as hell, and if he did hit on me, I can’t say I’d even remotely try to stop him. But I meant what I said. Guys like that, hot, athletic, muscly, big men with perfect smiles and sweet-as-fuck personalities, don’t look for short, skinny book nerds like me.

“I’ve only got to grab one more thing. Can you carry the bag with the laptop in it please?” I ask, opting to carry the heavier, but safer bag with my notebooks and clothes.

“I’ll grab both, you lock up and meet me at the car,” he says, and he carries them out.

I eye the sketches covering my table. The ones that didn’t make it into the book. I move them around searching for one in particular, the sketch I did of Harrison, in a sort of handstand position clapping his cleats together. I spot it under another of him from behind, hands on his hips, ass out as he’s wriggling to the music. That one was probably never going to make it into a children”s book. It would look amazing as one of those nudie cartoons. An image flashes in my mind of what both sketches would look like if I eliminated his uniform. Sometimes, I love the way my mind works.

I grab a new sketchbook and slip them both in between the blank pages.

Something to work on later.