CHAPTER 2 Lesson one: Patience
1422 Words
The knock came again, louder this time.
My pulse kicked up, thudding so loud I was sure he could hear it. I wiped my sweaty palm on my shorts before gripping the doorknob and pulling it open.
A cheerful girl stood there, clipboard in hand, with a bright room administrator ID swinging from her lanyard.
“Welcome to Stanton!” she chirped, as if tension in the room didn't exist.
“ I am Jenna Robert, your room administrator.
Just dropping off your welcome packets, and reminding you both about the mandatory freshman party tomorrow.”
Her eyes flicked between us. “Any problem so far?”
“Yes, actually. I'd love to move —”
Before the words fully escaped, his hand clamped over my mouth, warm and infuriating.
“We're actually fine,” he said, calmly,the kind of calm that could convince anyone he meant it.
Jenna's brows lifted. She lingered for a moment too long, clearly picking up the tension.
“O…kay,” she said slowly, then pasted a polite smile, as she took a step back.
“Well… take care!” she looked at me again, like she silently said, “Good luck with that.” Before heading down the hallway.
Immediately Jenna disappeared down the hallway, Asher shut the door with a soft click, and leaned against it — shoulders against the wood, arms folded, like he had all the time in the world.
I spun on him, hands on my hips. “Did you seriously just —”
“Princess, I just saved you from looking pathetic,” he said.
“Look around, we're probably the only roommates on this floor, acting like we'd commit murder if we had to stay together for more than a day.”
“You're crazy.” He muttered.
My jaw tightened. “Technically, you've been the problem since I got here. I've been calm. So no, don't make it sound like I'm the crazy one.”
“Calm?” His mouth twitched, like he was holding back a laugh. “You stormed in here, nearly had a meltdown about the beds, and almost begged for a transfer. That's your version of calm?”
“Fine,” I muttered.
He straightened, taking two easy steps forward, closing the distance between us.
“Asher,” he said, and my chest went tight for no reason at all.
“Figured you should know who you're mad at.”
“Asher?” I said before I could stop myself.
Of course, that's his name. Sounds exactly like the kind of guy who thinks rules don't apply to him. One look at him, and yeah trouble. The annoying kind.
He didn't even bother to hide the smirk. “Yeah. Asher. Don't wear it out.”
My lips pressed into a flat line. Of course, he'd make his own name sound like a punch line.
I dropped my suitcase with a dull thud and crouched to unzip it. If I didn't keep my hands busy, I'd probably throw something at him.
From behind me came the faint creak of wood from the door he leaned against , arms crossed like he owned the place.
Good. Stay quiet
I pulled out a stack of folded T-shirts first, then a pair of jeans, gym shorts, and a soft, oversized sweater. Cramming everything into the small wardrobe like it offended me, and one pair of sneakers on the bottom rack. The rest — jackets, extra shoes, clothes, and anything I wouldn't immediately need stayed stacked in the second and third suitcase.
When my hand brushed something lacy, I froze.
A full red lingerie set.
Of course, the one piece I should have left at home. Definitely not something I want
Asher to see.
Before I could shove it in the wardrobe, his voice came from behind me.
“Bold choice, princess.”
Heat crept up my neck as if I'd been caught with something scandalous.
“Mind your business” I said, shoving the red lingerie into the corner of the wardrobe, and
shutting the door harder than I meant to.
When I turned, Asher was already in his chair, arms folded, clearly amused.
“Relax, I wasn't judging. Just… didn’t see that coming.”
“Yeah? Congratulations,” I shot back. “You survived being surprised.”
He tilted his head, his mouth twitching like he was fighting a laugh. “You hid that like it was a
contraband.”
I ignored him, finishing the rest of my unpacking with deliberate focus — a laundry bag in the corner beside my table, perfumes, lotions, sunscreen, and deodorant lined on the desk beside a small tray of hair essentials and makeup, stacking my notebooks neatly next to them. Plugged my charger into the nearest outlet, slid the suitcases under the bed.
Asher didn't move, he was watching me like his evening entertainment.
“Careful, princess,” he said, “You keep throwing things like that, you'll convince me you're trying to impress me.”
“Trust me, if I wanted to impress you, you would know.”
That shut him up. At least long enough for me to tug my blanket straight, fluff my pillow, and smooth the sheets with one last pass.
I stepped back, taking in my side of the room.
“Finally! something that felt like home.”
“You look way too proud of that corner,” he said, his tone light almost amused.
I crossed my arms. “ It's not much, but at least it's mine.”
“Asher,” I said without looking at him, “are there rules I should know about sharing a room with you?” Beyond touching your stuff.
He didn't even bother to sit up straighter. “Just one.” His tone carried that lazy, infuriating confidence. “Don't fall for me.”
My head snapped around so fast, my ponytail whipped my shoulder.
“What did you just say?”
He smirked, clearly pleased with himself, like that was exactly the reaction he'd been hoping for.
“Relax, princess. I'm doing you a favor”
“I wasn't planning on falling for you.” I shot back, sharper than intended.
“Good.” he said, pushing off his chair, and strolling to his bed.
He dropped onto the bed, propping himself up with one elbow like the conversation was beneath him. “Then we'll get along just fine.”
I grabbed my phone, pretending to scroll to look busy, but my pulse thudded hard in my chest.
“Who even says that to someone they just met.”
“Maybe this was a mistake. I should have pleaded with housing for a dorm switch before unpacking.” I groaned.
“You really don't have to look so tense. I'm not a complete monster.” He said quietly. Almost like he hadn't meant to say it.”
That got my attention.
Before I could reply, his phone buzzed on the night stand. He grabbed the phone, eyes darting over the screen, shoulders tensed. Without a word, he shoved the phone into his pocket.
“Everything okay?” I blurted.
“Yeah” he said, too fast. Then sprang off the bed, snagged his car key from the table. “Don't wait up.”
And just like that he was gone.
The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me in a room that suddenly didn't feel so warm.
I sat on his chair, staring at his framed pictures on his table.
“Who gets a text that makes them bolt like that?”
My phone buzzed. A message from my best friend.
Stassie: Hi bestie! Have you met your roommate yet? Cute or serial killer.
I typed back before I could overthink it.
Me: Cute but mean.
Before I could send a follow- up, the door handle rattled.
The door clicked open.
I looked up, expecting Asher.
Instead, a man stepped in — dark Suit, polished shoes, the kind of presence that made the room shrink around him.
His eyes cut across the room, sharp and deliberate, then settled on me. “Are you his roommate?”
I nodded, my throat suddenly dry.
“Tell Asher he can't keep ignoring this. It's urgent.”
Before I could ask what this was, he was gone, leaving the faint scent of expensive cologne in the doorway.
Urgent … Who was that man in black suit?
Why did he sound like Asher was in trouble ?
And where the hell had Asher gone?
- Writer
