127Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMGvgK1AuJh
Keegan
Sunlight forces my eyes open, and for a second, I again don't know where I am.
Then I grab my phone in a panic to check the time. It's nine o'clock. I overslept, big time.
"Shit!" I grumble, jumping out of bed and grabbing a towel from one of my bins before I race to the shower.
I should already be at the newspaper. I wanted to be there when the editor, Jason Reed, arrived.
Before he got busy and had an excuse not to talk to me.
Ten minutes later, I hit the stairs, my wet hair in a ponytail, and my laptop and a couple of books I'll need for my first day of classes stuffed into my backpack.
The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafts into my nostrils as I reach the living room, and I remember the bananas and protein bars I picked up at the store.
A five-minute delay for breakfast probably won't make much difference at this point. And I'm starving. I don't want my stomach growling like crazy while I'm trying to make my pitch to Jason.
I veer into the kitchen, almost colliding with Blue, who is leaning against the counter with his legs crossed. He is still only wearing a pair of plaid boxers. I sure wish the boy would keep his shirt on.
"Whoa," Blue exclaims, lifting his steaming coffee mug out of the way just in time, "slow down there, roomie."
He smells citrusy and kind of soapy. His dark hair's wet. And there's that stomach, that chest, those arms.
I feel myself blushing for what must be the dozenth time since we met yesterday.
"Oh, sorry," I gasp, stepping back.
I look behind me when I hear a dog yelp. Max is looking up at me, wagging his tail.
"Yikes," I say, "sorry, Max. I didn't mean to step on you, buddy." I lean down to pet the dog's head, then glance at Blue, wondering how bad my tired, makeup-free face looks to him.
Keegan Crenshaw. Just stop it.
Of all the things I should be worried about, I can't believe I'm wasting time on what Blue thinks of me without makeup. But even a full-name self-lecture probably won't stop me from doing it.
And it sure isn't stopping my eyes from lingering, again, on Blue's tanned, muscular legs. He sure looks good in those boxers. He probably looks even better wearing nothing at all.
Irritated by my wayward thoughts, I start opening the dilapidated cabinets, searching for another coffee mug.
But all I find is a mishmash of plastic beer cups, Chinese food soup containers, and, weirdly, a set of Hello Kitty plates.
"We don't have much in the way of real dishes," Blue says, apologetically, reaching on top of the fridge for a package of Styrofoam cups. "And what we do have is usually dirty. Thanks mainly to Hunter."
I notice again Blue's disdainful tone when he mentions Hunter. It makes me wonder what's the story between the two of them.
Based on my limited interaction with my blond housemate, though, I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Hunter seems a lot less mature than Blue. A lot more like a player.
Blue pours a cup of coffee from a drip coffeemaker on the counter and hands it to me.
"Pretty sure I have the only actual mug in the house," he says, lifting it to show me.
The mug is oversized, white, with the words UNITED STATES ARMY in gold and an American flag. There's a chip on the top of the handle.
"I guard this one with my life," he adds with a grin. "But I might consider loaning it to you, when I'm not using it, of course."
It seems impossible not to return his infectious smile.
"Thanks," I murmur, letting my backpack slide to the floor and wrapping my hands around the Styrofoam.
I stand there, sipping with my eyes closed, wishing today was already over with. When I open my eyes, Blue's staring intently at me.
"So, Keegan, how'd you sleep your first night?"
I shrug, savoring another sip, debating whether to answer truthfully. "Not great," I finally say. "Bad dreams." I leave out, of course, the part about soothing my turmoil last night by thinking of him.
Blue nods, looking down into his cup. I stare at his lips, hovering over the steam from his coffee, thinking about how he kissed me on the roof. About how good it felt.
"Yeah," he responds after a pause, his voice a husky whisper. "I know all about bad dreams."
Then there's an expectant silence between us. I wonder if he's about to share something with me. If he's maybe going to tell me how he got those scars.
The would-be journalist in me really wants to hear that story. But the rest of me suddenly doesn't. Not right now.
I'm on overload with Blue. Physically and emotionally. Just being around him turns me upside down. I can't process any more.
And I am late.
I set my cup on the counter and open the cabinet, where I stashed my small supply of food.
"I have to go," I mumble before tearing open a protein bar and peeling a banana and shoving them into my mouth.
I take a last sip of coffee and look around for the trash. Blue points at a tall, overflowing can on the other side of the fridge, and I push my cup into the middle of the pile, then watch it slide off on to the stained linoleum floor.
"Don't worry about it," Blue sighs. "I'll be doing some more cleaning today. Didn't manage to do much yesterday. Kendra and Hunter damn well better help me. We've got a lot to do to get ready for this weekend."
I'm bending down to pick up my backpack when he says that, and my stomach lurches. "There's another party this weekend?" I can hear the dread in my voice.
"Yes, ma'am. We always throw a helluva Labor Day weekend party." He chuckles as I roll my eyes. "I did warn you, Keegan."
He raises his mug to his lips as his eyes twinkle. "Hey, you could cover the party for the paper. That's something people around here might actually want to read about."
"Uh, no," I say, wincing a little inside at my tone. I don't want to come off as a snot, but there's no way in hell I'd offer to cover some dumb college party, even if I do get a reporter job.
"And you'll get to hear me play a mean bass," Blue goes on as if he didn't even hear me.
He hits me with that tantalizing smile, and I feel my insides start to melt. Again.
I've so got to get control of myself.
"Maybe I'll even sing that song you liked at the party." He's still trying to convince me. "Just for you."
"We'll see," I manage to reply, resisting the urge to agree to absolutely anything if he'll just keep smiling like that at me.
I step toward the door and stare at the dog just so I don't get ensnared by those summer sky eyes again. "I've really got to go. 'Bye, Blue. And... um, thanks for the coffee."
"Hey, no problem. And good luck at the newspaper."
~~~127Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6K5AWKwkcq
Thanks for reading Tangled Up in Blue! What do you think so far? How will Keegan's first college house party go? I'd love to have your comments. And please share this story! 😊
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127Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoirdfSAhnl
