“Yeah,” I said, crawling off the bed. “I’ve got a mess of homework to finish too.” Running my fingers through my hair, I plaited it into a quick braid since it looked like there wouldn’t be time for a shower. “It looks like you’ve got two girls that need your chauffeur services this morning.”

“I live to serve,” he said, an expression curving into his face that gave away what he was thinking. Or reliving.

I wasn’t a blusher‌—‌the genetic code just hadn’t built it into my system‌—‌but I thought I felt one creeping up my neck at his continued stare.

“All right, lover boy,” Holly said, snapping her fingers. She winced, grabbing her temples again. “The airport. Sometime today.”

I hurried around the bed, grabbing Holly’s shoes she’d let me borrow, and pulled my bag down from the shelf in his closet. Grabbing his keys from the nightstand, Jude took my hand and led me to the door.

“It’s about time,” Holly whispered, digging through her purse.

Jude snagged Holly’s suitcase sitting outside the door and we worked our way down the hall, stepping over and around bodies decorating the floor.

“Looks like we missed out on some party,” I said, peering at one comatose couple, wondering how in all acrobatics they’d worked their way into that position.

“I wouldn’t say we missed out,” Jude said, peeking back at me with a suggestive smile.

“I think this is the one I made out with like a sex addict in remission last night,” Holly said, leaning over one of Jude’s teammates who was still smiling in his sleep. “Or maybe it was that one,” she said, toeing the hand of the guy across from the first and inspecting his face. “Yeah, definitely this one. His lips are the more swollen of the two. Speaking of,”‌—‌ruffling through her bag, she produced a tube of chapstick‌—‌”my lips are in serious pain.”

“I thought you said you were in a hurry, Hol,” Jude called up the stairs at her, keeping my hand in his. At the bottom of the stairs, a pyramid of bodies blocked the way. Leaping over it, Jude turned around, grabbed my waist, and lifted me over the human barricade. Waiting for Holly to make her wobbly way down, he lifted her over as well.

Jude’s truck was parked a ways off, so we hoofed it. Coming around the side of the house, a quilt of clothing and splintered wood decorated the side yard. I stopped in my tracks, appraising Jude’s yard decorating skills.

“Someone had a visit from the anger monkeys last night,” Holly said, stopping beside me.

Staring up at Jude, he peered at me from the corner of his eyes. “They most certainly did.”

“Rage is a terrible thing,” he added, crossing the lawn, but not before snagging a dark tee draped over a shrub.

I smirked at his back.

By the time Holly and I hauled our tired, slow moving butts to Jude’s truck, he already had Holly’s suitcase in the bed and both doors swung open for us. Peeling the white shirt he was still sporting over his head, he tossed that into the bed too. No wonder he never had any clean clothes. Lifting the black tee above his head, he paused, looking at me, his brows coming together.

“It’s all right,” I said, rolling my eyes. Just because I’d behaved like a jealous lunatic last night didn’t mean I wanted to be reminded of it. They were his clothes, regardless of who’d washed and folded them.

“Just checkin’,” he said with a faint grin before tugging it over his head.

Holly and I just stood there outside the truck, watching the show. Stuffing the shirt into his jeans, Jude stopped, looking up at us with confusion.

“What?” he asked, tucking in the back and giving me a devilish grin.

I averted my gaze, trying to look unimpressed as I climbed into the cab. “Oh, go ‘what’ yourself.”

Holly chuckled. “You know, Jude, the older you get, the uglier you get,” she said, winking at me as she crawled in beside me.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, climbing into the driver seat and started the truck up. “And the older you get, the meaner you get.”

Grabbing my thigh, he slid me closer until we took up a space intended for one person. He didn’t let go once the entire drive.

“Why does Thursday seem like it’s never going to get here?” I groaned, stalling outside of my dorm in Jude’s truck.

“Because it will feel that way,” he answered, brushing my hair over my shoulder.

I groaned louder. Holly had made it off on time and, while I’d willed the drive from the airport to Juilliard to go slowly, it of course hadn’t. The goodbyes Jude and I were forced to make every Sunday never got easier. We went to schools nearly five hours apart, so the possibility of sneaking in an afternoon weekday visit was out of the question. When we said goodbye, it was goodbye for an eternal five days.

Except for this week. It would only be for three days due to Thanksgiving break. It was truly a time to be grateful.

“So you’re okay with celebrating with my dad and mom on Thursday?” I asked again, just to make sure. Jude had been civil, as had they, but there was a strain between the two families that I doubted would even slacken with time. Jude’s father murdering my brother because my father had fired him was the kind of drama day time television creators couldn’t even conceive of. It was the kind of thing people didn’t “get over” after a few family dinners.