Page 6 of His Secret
“Thanks to you!” He puts me down. “I’ve never won one of these games.”
I smile. “Well, yay!”
Adrian barks out a laugh. “Yes. Yay. Let’s go get a drink.”
I don’t bother to tell him I’mstillnot drinking, instead just choosing to follow him wherever he’s going.
Adrian opens the fridge and quickly closes it, spinning around. “Come with me,” he says in a whisper.
“What are we doing?” I reply back in the same tone, following him toward the stairs.
“Stealing beer from Barlow’s room.”
“Oh, well, that’s not nice.”
He chuckles. “It’s fine.”
“Be the lookout,” he tells me as I stand in the doorway. “Let me know if he’s coming.”
“I’m not gonna lie to you. I’ve already forgotten what he looks like.”
“Big guy with long blond hair.”
“Got it.”
Adrian opens up a mini fridge next to a full-sized bed and takes two cans before coming back toward me.
“You want one?”
I shake my head. “I’m probably gonna leave soon, so I shouldn’t.”
Instead of going downstairs, he walks to another door down the hall. When I step inside the room behind him, he’s already sitting on the corner of the bed.
“I take it this is your room.”
“Yep.”
“Much quieter up here,” I say with relief.
“Yeah. It won’t die down for a while. You can close the door.”
With the click of the latch, my heart rate begins to spike again. He’s putting one beer on the floor and then opening the other, completely unaware of how nervous I just became.
I know it makes no logical sense. He lives in a house with other guys, so I’m sure they visit each other’s rooms often. I’m overthinking things because I’m attracted to him and because I like him, but he doesn’t even know I’m gay. Being alone with him, in his room, means nothing.
“So, first party. How do you feel?” he asks with a wide smile.
I awkwardly lean against his dresser, not wanting to sit on the bed with him. “It’s…good. I won a game of beer pong, so?—”
“Damn right you did,” he says, holding up his beer.
I laugh. “Yeah. I’m still alive, so that’s a plus.”
“Is death a usual thought when you’re invited to parties?” he teases.
“Well, I’m not usually invited to them, so no. But social situations in general aren’t my thing. Also, I’m dramatic, so when I say ‘still alive’ I just mean, not panicking and running for the nearest exit.”
“Ah. I see.” He takes another sip of his beer and the silence is thick between us for a bit. “So, Penelope?”