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I paused in the hallway outside his door. Had he bothered to lock it? What if it was hiding in plain sight in there? I’d love to find my stuff. First of all, so I could be reunited with my little friend, but also to get a win over Brody.

I grabbed his doorknob and turned it slowly. The door opened. Yes!

I stepped into the room, the smell of the empty space immediately enveloping me. It was pure Brody.

I breathed in way too deep. I turned on the lamp by his desk and sat in his leather swivel chair. It was one of those ones that was perfectly designed to ergonomically fit one person, and it was comically big for me. Still, I spun around and looked around the room, trying to see it through Brody’s analytical mind. Where was a good hiding place?

I couldn’t come up with a single idea. So, I got up and started in one corner, checking every single place I could find and working systematically across the room.

I checked under furniture, behind it, knocked on walls and lifted rugs. There was nothing. Eventually, I was left with the walk-in closet. It was enormous, just like mine, though Brody had way more clothes than I did.

I walked around, touching T-shirts and polos as I went. Half the clothes were smart and casual; the other half was sporty.

It smelled even more like Brody in here. The clothes suffused with whatever cologne he wore. It smelled exclusive and expensive. It was very him.

I checked for false backs in the closet, knocking here and there. My phone rang. I answered quickly, imagining that it was my mom calling back, forgetting something.

Instead, a deep voice spoke in my ear.

“Distract me, heathen. I really need a fucking distraction.”

I pulled my phone away from my ear to check that I wasn’t imagining Brody’s voice.

Noise came over the line in the background. It sounded like a party. London was five hours ahead. I hated that I’d checked that this morning. So, it was the small hours of the morning for Brody, and he was somewhere noisy.

“So, you called me? I thought me being a distraction was a problem?” I asked pointedly.

“Yeah, it is. Everything about you is a problem, Selena Carmichael… and I really fucking wish you were here right now.”

Warmth filled my limbs, permeating my blood.

“Why, so I could drink too much, make a scene, and jump into the pool?”

“Exactly.” Brody sighed, the background din cut off as it sounded like a door shut.

“You know, you could just do it yourself,” I told him. “I bet you haven’t been wasted in forever.”

“Try ever,” Brody said. “Future CEOs don’t binge drink like a teenager.”

“Not even if they were only just teenagers?”

“Not even then.”

“Boring.” I ran my hand down the silky material of his hockey jersey. I tugged it off the hanger, fighting the urge to smell it.God, what is wrong with me?

“Yeah, it’s pretty fucking boring, isn’t it?” Brody mused. He sounded tired.

“So, why are you at a party and not getting drunk or having fun?” I held Brody’s jersey up in front of my body in the mirror. It was massive.

“At some shitty party some old friends threw for Em. Some of her old mates showed up. The ones who dragged her into all of it. Fucking ghouls.”

“That’s shit. Why don’t you leave? I bet Cal left, right?”

“Yes, he did. But there are photos of Emily around, and this whole thing is in her name, and it feels like one of us should be here.”

“I’m sorry you’re alone,” I said.

Brody was quiet for a beat. “Well, I guess I’m not alone now. You’re here. So… distract me.”