02.

ISABELLA

"Babe?"

"I got in, Hardin!" I shriek, my voice, a pitch higher than usual.

His brow furrows for a second, a gentle frown creasing his forehead. "Got in where, sweetie? To the bath?"

I chuckle, waving the phone frantically in front of his face. "Greenville? The scholarship? The university?"

He tilts his head, his confusion melting into sudden realization, his eyes widening as the words finally register. "You got in?"

I nod again, vigorously, a huge, giddy smile splitting my face. I can't stop it, it feels like it's permanently etched there.

Before I can blink, he let's out a loud, delighted whoop, and lunges for me. He scoops me up in his arms, the fluffy towel threatening to unravel as he lifts me high and starts spinning us around the room.

"Put me down!" I shriek, half from surprise, half from hysterical giggles, clinging onto his wet, slippery shoulders for my dear life.

"Fuck, babe! You got in!" He puts me down, his hands resting on my waist, his eyes shining with what I presume is pride.

"Yeah," I breath, trying to steady myself.

He grins. "I knew you could do it. I told you."

"Did not," I tease, shoving him gently.

"Of course, I knew," he insists, pulling me close for a quick, hard kiss, that leaves me breathless all over again.

I grab my phone again, the massive grin still plastered across my face as I scroll through the acceptance email, rereading every glorious word. My eyes scan the page, soaking in the official letterhead, the congratulations, the scholarship details. Then they snag on a particular line.

No. Wait... What?

My smile falters. The giddy feeling plummets straight to my stomach.

"What?" Hardin asks, pulling on a pair of boxers.

"No housing," I mumble with a flat voice. "It says 'All on-campus housing capacity is full. We regret to inform you that we are unable to offer you a place in university accommodation at this time."

He stops dressing and takes the phone from my hand. "Oh no."

I throw myself onto the bed, sulking immediately. "See? This is why I didn't even want to try. I don't have the money for a fancy apartment. Hardin. Not even close. Renting off-campus is insane."

He sits beside me, putting an arm around my shoulder. "No. No. Don't worry. We'll figure something out. Seriously, we will."

"If you mean renting an apartment... I don't have the money for it." I repeat, sighing heavily. "Even with the scholarship, off-campus rent in Greenville is insane. I've looked. It's like, double what I pay now, and that's for a shoebox."

"Yeah... but... you don't have to rent a whole apartment. You could find someone who already has an apartment... and needs a roommate." He says, his voice trailing off, as if testing the waters. He sounds hesitant, almost reluctant.

The silence that follows is heavy. I watch him scratch the back of his head, a nervous habit he has. His eyes follows mine. He's clearly uncomfortable, like he's about to suggest something truly awful. Then finally, he mumbles incoherently, something about... a person?

"What?" I say, pushing myself up lightly.

"My brother?" He finally mumbles.

"Wait, what?" I stare at him as if he'd just suggested I move in with a sentient badger. That's even better than what he's suggesting, and probably less irritating. "How could you suggest that? Are you insane? Have you completely lost your mind?"

"Babe, listen." He holds his hand up.

"No. You listen. I am not living with your slut-ass, annoying, man-whore of a brother."

Hardin just stares at me. "Damn. Tell me how you really feel."

"What?" I throw my hands up. "He is all of those things."

"Well... is that what you're scared of? That he's a slut?"

"What? No. Of course not." I sputter. "I just don't want us to murder each other. He gets off on riling me up, Hardin. We'll be in jail within a week. I swear to God. One of us will end up in a body bag, and it'll probably be me because he's bigger and I'm pretty sure he knows how to hide a body."

"I'll talk to him," he promises.

"Like he's going to listen? He'll probably charge me double rent just to spite me."

Hardin takes my hand, his eyes are serious. "You've worked so hard for this scholarship, babe. You've pulled all-nighters, you've stressed yourself sick, you practically lived in the library. I'm not letting you let go of it, not now, not for something like this, even if it means shoving you and Noah in a room. You're going."

Fuck.

Shoving.

Me.

And Noah.

In a room.

My stomach does a weird flip-flop. What we'd do... apart from fighting, which was a given... Images... Scenarios... Things I should not be thinking about, not with Hardin sitting right here.

But my brain, traitorous little bastard that it was, conjured them anyway.

"Hello? Earth to Isabella?" Hardin touches my cheek gently. "You just zoned out."

I jump, pulling his hand away from my face. My cheeks are burning with guilt. Of course. I'm thinking about such thoughts when Hardin is here, being all worried about me, being the supportive boyfriend, and I'm over here having inappropriate daydreams about his brother. The irony is not lost on me, and it only makes the guilt worse.

"Everything okay?" he asks.

I force a smile. "Yeah. Fine. Just... thinking about Noah's reaction when you'll ask him." I say, trying to sound normal. "You really think he'll go for it?" I ask, watching Hardin as he gets up and pulls his jeans on.

"I don't know," Hardin admits, buckling his belt. "But he has an empty room. He barely uses that apartment except to sleep and throw parties. He probably won't even notice you're there."

Right, because I'm totally invisible, I think sarcastically, recalling how Noah didn't just notice me ten minutes ago...

"And what if he says no?" I press. "If he think this is punishment for me or something? He already hates me."

"He doesn't hate you, Bella. He's just Noah. He likes getting a rise out of people. Especially you."

"Yeah, well, the feeling is mutual. The 'rise' part, I mean. He gives me a huge rise in blood pressure." I bit my lip. "Look, I know you want me to go to Greenville. I do too. But living with him..." I shudder dramatically. "Hardin... It's not how I plan to spend my days in college."

"It's temporary," he says, walking over and pulling me into a hug. "Until you can get into campus housing next semester."

I pout and wrap my arms around his waist. "Promise?"

Hardin chuckles, kissing the top of my head. "I promise. Now give me ten minutes. I'm going to call the monster and see what he says. You stay here and read your acceptance letter again."

I watch him grab his phone and step out onto the balcony, closing the sliding door behind him. I can't hear the conversation, but I can feel the tension radiating from him. He's pacing.

I quickly get ready for work, pick up my phone and open the email, trying to focus, but damn... all I can picture is Noah's face.

What if he says yes?

The realization that I might actually be living under the same roof as him, sharing a kitchen, maybe even running into him in the hall half-naked, makes my palms sweat.

*Stop it, Isabella. You're dating his brother. You hate him.*

*Yes. I hate his arrogance. I hate his nicknames for me. I hate that I keep thinking about Noah when he's the bad boy with a history and a mean streak of breaking girls' hearts.*

I shake my head violently, trying to clear the thoughts. Hardin is my boyfriend. And like I said, and I'll keep saying, Hardin is sweet, kind and he makes me feel happy.

The balcony door slides open, and Hardin steps back inside.

"You're all dressed." He nods.

"Well?" I whisper.

Hardin sighs, then he runs a hand over his face. "He said yes."

My jaw drops. "He said yes? Just like that? No demands?"

"He was actually... strangely quiet about it," Hardin admits, confusion in his eyes. "He just kept saying. 'Sure, whatever, Hardin.' Like he didn't care."

"He doesn't care? That's even worse. That means he has some elaborate, evil plan he's cooking up. There's a catch. There has to be a catch. Did he mention rent? Utilities? Curfews?"