After my victory, the guys take over the court for their own game, leaving me, and much to his obvious dismay, Wes, on the sidelines.

“Come on, we can finish studying in my room where my teammates can’t get in the damn way.”

If I were a better person, I’d let him off the hook tutoring me since I clearly had help beating him. But now that he started teaching me like one of the guys and shown me what a good tutor he is, I’m not about to pass up the opportunity.

Also, he’s hot. I mean I’m not shallow enough to only entertain the idea of hanging around hot guys, but when they’re hot and fun to be around and they can help me get a better grade? Yeah, I’m grabbing the opportunity any way I can.

In his room, I pull out the Chewy Sprees tucked away in the side pocket of my backpack and reward myself with two. One for learning something and one for beating him.

He doesn’t bother grabbing the statistics book this time as he sits on his bed and winces as he props his foot up on a pillow.

“You all right?”

“Yeah, just gets sore if I don’t elevate it every few hours. You want to cover covariance next?”

“Sure.”

“All right, let’s do the definitions first and then we’ll go into scenarios.”

He fires off terms and I reply, parroting back the information I’ve read and memorized from the text.

At each nod from him, indicating I have the right answer, I pop another candy into my mouth.

He raises a brow. “I can’t remember the last time I saw someone eating Sprees.”

“Want one?”

“Dear God, no.” He looks absolutely horrified at the idea.

“Come on. Have one. Live a little.” I wave a red candy in front of him, and he grimaces, pulling his lips into a tight line.

His refusal only eggs me on, and I lean on my knees to get closer and press it into his lips as he tries to keep me from getting the candy into his mouth. I swear you’d think it was poison the way he fights.

“Come on. One piece.”

His lips part slightly, and I drop the candy in and sit back. I watch his face carefully. The grimace turns to intrigue and then pleasure.

“That’s good,” he says finally. “Give me another.”

I hand him the pack and he tosses a handful of colorful candies into his mouth.

“Hey, that’s all I have left.” I swipe my precious Sprees back and frown at the two remaining. “Now how am I going to study?”

He shakes his head. “I could rub behind your ears and tell you good job.”

“Just ask me the next question,” I grumble and hold my candy tightly.

He gives me a scenario, and I fumble to remember anything we’ve just covered.

“You know the parts, just put them together.”

“Ugh, I suck at this part. The essay questions kill me.” I close my eyes and focus. Negativity isn’t going to get me anywhere. “Stay positive. I can do this. I’ve already come a long way. I know more today than I did a week ago. I just need to keep putting in the effort. I can do this.”

“Uhh . . .” He cocks a brow, and I realize I’ve been muttering aloud.

“Sorry, you weren’t meant to hear that last part.”

“What the hell was that?”

I’m sure I turn a hideous shade of red as he stares at me like I’ve officially lost it. “A pep talk. When I’m feeling down about something, I try to flip it, phrase it to better represent my achievements instead of focusing on the things I can’t control. Positive thinking attracts miracles.”

“You’re weird,” he says but winks and goes back to drilling me.

We continue long after the Sprees are gone, and my eyes start to glaze over. “I need a break,” I finally admit when I can’t take it any longer. “All the definitions are jumbling in my mind.”

“You want to stop for the night or . . .”

“I just need a short break. You ate all my rewards, and I’m losing focus.” The loss of focus might be in part due to the way he’s sprawled out on the bed, making me picture all sorts of scenarios that involve fewer clothes.

He snickers. “I’m afraid we don’t have any candy in the house.”

“Of course, you don’t.” He probably fills his sculpted body with carefully proportioned meals meant to fuel the long hours of practice and training. Not pure sugar.

A knock at the door snaps my attention toward it. Joel’s face appears, hand covering his eyes. “Everyone decent in here?”

“We’re studying, asshole.”

Joel stands to his full height and lets his hand drop. “I know. Just messing with ya. It’s six.”

“Again, we’re studying.”

“Take a break then.” Joel turns, and I’m looking between them, trying to figure out what is so important about six o’clock. “Movie starts in five. Nathan said to tell you he wants extra butter on the popcorn this time.”

Wes looks sheepish as he explains, “It’s movie night.”

“Yeah, I got that.” I chuckle. Standing, I begin to gather my things. “I can finish studying at home. I’ve taken enough of your time today.”

“Nah, stay. We can go over it again after the movie.”

He must read my hesitation. “It’s cool. It’s just the roommates. We kick everyone else out for movie night.” He pauses. “You don’t talk during movies, do you? Nathan demands silence.”

“And buttered popcorn, apparently.”

“You in?”

I drop my bag. All that awaits me at home is reminders of David and the shitstorm he’s made of my life. “Why not?”

Wes takes me by the movie room while informing me he’s on snack duty for the night. “Popcorn? Soda? Beer?”

“Soda’d be great.”

“Save me a seat. I’ll be back in five.”

Joel arrives as I’m trying to decide where to sit. “Yo, Blair, you met Nathan?”

I shake my head and stretch out my arm to take the elusive fourth roommate’s hand. “Good to meet you.”

“Nice work on the court today. I thought our boy was gonna lose his shit.” Nathan’s hair is longer, hanging about chin length, and he tucks a strand behind his ear as he speaks.

Joel plops down in a one of three seats in the front row and Nathan hovers next to him. There’s one seat left in the front and four in the back. I take a step to the back row and then hesitate.

“Your boy usually sits in the back by himself. Lucky him. I’m thinking this was his plan all along—leaving room for pretty girls to sit beside him.”

My face flushes at Joel’s playful flirting. Z and Wes enter the room, and I sigh a breath of relief. Wes, for all his arrogance, has a presence that puts me at ease. I’m starting to trust him.

Wes cradles three huge bowls of popcorn. He hands one to Nathan, places one on the empty seat that is presumably Zeke’s, and then tucks the other at his side. Z has five sodas stacked up in his large hands and tosses them to the guys and then walks one back to me with a shy smile. The whole thing is so casual and homey that, when we settle into our seats, I grin at the whole charade. Who would have guessed this is how they spend a Sunday night?

I learn the pick rotates each week, and tonight it’s Zeke’s choice. Nothing could have surprised me more than him picking a Tom Cruise romantic comedy, Knight and Day.

“Seriously?”

Joel tosses popcorn in Zeke’s direction. “Z’s working his way through all of Tom Cruise’s movies and taking us along for the ride.”

“I’ve never seen this one,” I admit.

I recline the seat and curl up. I’m sitting next to Wes Reynolds watching a movie. No big deal, just a Sunday night Netflix and . . . well, there’s no chill, but a girl can pretend.