There was a pause. “They’re fresh and that perfect mix of crispiness and softness.”

Oh my, that was the best.

“And I have ranch dressing,” he added. Slowly, I sat up and pushed a few strands of gross hair out of my face. “If you don’t answer this door, I will do something drastic.”

I frowned.

“I can use the fire element, which means I can melt the insides of this lock,” he explained. “And I’m not that great at controlling fire. I’ll probably end up catching the door on fire.”

“Whoa,” I muttered, swinging my legs off the bed.

“And then the fire will spread to the walls and the next thing you know, the whole dorm is burning down. Roof on fire kind of shit and Marcus will get really pissed—”

“Okay!” I shouted, standing. “I’m coming.”

“Good.” Satisfaction practically bloated his voice.

Shuffling to the door, I threw the lock and opened it. True to his word, Deacon stood with a bag in one hand and a bottle of Coke in the other. Eyeing the red and black bottle, I could already feel the wonderful, acidic burn in my throat. The aroma was greasy heaven. As I stepped aside, my gaze flickered over his shoulder and landed on Seth’s door. An ache pierced my chest, stealing my breath.

Deacon breezed on past me, placing the bag on the coffee table, along with the bottle of Coke. Closing the door, I exhaled softly and then turned—

Suddenly, Deacon was right in front of me and his arms were around me. One second I was just standing there and the next, my face was plastered against his surprisingly hard chest, my nose buried in the loose, long-sleeve shirt. And he was hugging me, really hugging me. Not one of those lame, weak ones that made you feel like the other person was frail. No, this was a hearty one, and God . . . Gods, it almost broke me all over again.

“I . . .” I didn’t know what to say. Tears clogged my throat again, cutting off my words and all I could whisper was, “I’m s-sorry.”

“You don’t apologize,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of my gross, greasy head, unlocking best friend status.

I folded my arms around his slender waist and squeezed my eyes shut. “Seth. He . . . he said everything was a mistake. We—” My breath caught. “That we were a mistake.”

His arms tightened around me.

“I . . . I love him,” I said, shaking. “I love him, Deacon.”

“I know,” Deacon said, and his hug became my everything. “I know.”

Chapter 12

Chapter 12