I would not be surprised if my skin is turning green right now. I have got to stop this.

“Little bit is up to something,” Shane says around another yawn. “I sensed a disturbance in the force.”

“Maybe I was going for a walk.”

They look at each other and discount my story.

“Fine. I was packing. Sorry if I woke you up.”

“Packing?” Shane seems suddenly very awake. “Where are you going?”

Fletch narrows his eyes at me. “Wow, your date must have gone pretty well. Moving in with him already?”

“Dude, what the fuck crawled up your butt?” Shane asks.

My lack of sleep and abundance of stomach acid combine in a dangerous combination. “Yes, Fletch. In fact, we’re getting married. We’re going to quit school and get jobs and start shooting out little Joneses as soon as possible.”

“I hope they don’t get his neck,” Shane mutters.

I glare at him and then return my glare where it belongs—on Fletch and his shirtless abs and stupid pajama pants. Why is that even sexy? I’m pretty sure his dad wears those plaid pants too. Only he always wore a shirt. At least when I was around.

Fletch has his hands on his hips. That’s another thing he got from his dad. “I hope the two of you will be very happy together.”

“Maybe you can bring your new girlfriend to the wedding.”

Shane flops onto the couch, and I try to scrub any and all couch memories from my brain. “I really hate it when you guys fight. What is she talking about, dude?”

Fletch shrugs. “I have no idea.”

I point to his door. “Ask the friend who slept over last night. Maybe she knows.”

“You have a girl in there?”

“No.” “Yes,” we answer together.

“Sock on the door,” I explain to Shane.

He swings his head to Fletch. “Interesting.”

I take a deep breath. I’d like to say it is cleansing, but it really doesn’t do much for my state of mind. “Guys, I’m moving back to the dorm. I know we said we could be grown up about all this, but I am not cut out for this friends with benefits stuff. I can’t separate my feelings the way you guys can. It’s complicated enough to have the three of us doing stuff but bringing more people into it isn’t working for me.”

“So, don’t go out with Jones,” Shane says matter-of-factly. “Problem solved. Is there coffee yet?”

“It’s not just Jones.”

Shane smiles, showing his big, white teeth. “Really, little bit. Who else are you going for now?”

“I’m not talking about me. I’m talking about you guys. And,” I point to the door with no sock, “whoever is in there.”

“Nobody is in there,” Fletch says quietly.

“Whoever was in there then.”