I step out of the shower. Steam swirls around as I squeeze excess water out of my hair and then wrap my towel around my torso. I’m gathering my dirty clothes to dump in the hamper when the bathroom door bangs open.

“Hello! Occupied,” I say as Cressida barges inside, followed by Anne. “What is going on?”

Anne shuts the door a lot more quietly than Cressida opened it.

“Answers, Saylor. Start talking!” Cressida demands.

“Answers to what?”

“Adler Beck was in our kitchen when we got home!”

“Yes, I’m aware,” I drawl.

“Is he staying here?”

“I think so… we haven’t really covered logistics yet.”

“You’ve been off together all day!” Cressida exclaims.

I shrug. “It didn’t come up.”

“Kluvberg’s in season,” Anne points out. “Isn’t he missing stuff to be here?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t asked,” I admit. The first sentence is a cop-out. I know he must be. I have commitments seven days a week during the season. He’s a professional athlete. Playing soccer is his job. There’s no way Beck’s not missing something by flying across the Atlantic. “Could we discuss this after I’ve gotten dressed?” I request, gesturing down at the small puddle that’s forming at my feet.

The door opens, and Emma joins the party. I groan, leaning my head back against the shower door.

“What’s she said?” Emma asks eagerly.

“Absolutely nothing,” Anne supplies.

“Because there’s nothing to tell!”

Cressida scoffs. “Yeah, right. I never bought the ‘It was just sex’ line because you acted so weird about it, but there’s definitely something else going on.”

“I don’t know what’s going on! We haven’t talked about it yet, and even when we do I’m not going to give you a fucking transcript. I can ask him to get a hotel if you don’t—”

Emma gapes at me like I just suggested we streak across campus naked. Except we did that sophomore year and she didn’t look nearly as horrified. “Don’t you dare. I’m having ‘I slept in the same house as Adler Beck’ engraved on my tombstone.”

“Morbid. And creepy,” I add as I push through them to the bathroom door. “I’m going to get dressed. Let’s not do this again.”

Beck is still on the phone when I re-enter my room, so I don’t say anything. I don’t even make eye contact, just get dressed and flop down on my bed. I open my laptop and glance over at him. He’s staring out the window, listening to whatever the person on the other end of the line is saying. I turn my attention back to the marketing project I was planning to spend the afternoon on.