Selena Kitt - Baumgartner Generations - Henry

She explored Henry’s desk this time, marveling at the volume of mini cassette tapes he had there. “Why so many?”

“I record all my lectures.” He grabbed his iPod out of habit, flipping through for something to listen to.

“Whatcha got?” Libby crawled onto the bed and he welcomed her warm weight as she settled herself beside him. “Anything good?”

Without a word, he reached over and opened his desk drawer, pulling out two pairs of headphones. He had a splitter that allowed them both to listen at the same time, and he handed her a pair. She slipped them on just as he hit play.

“The Runaways?” Libby listened, a smile curling the corners of her mouth.

He found it hard to not lean over and kiss her, both because she was so irresistible and because she’d instantly recognized the band. He held his breath as she situated herself with her head in his lap, her long legs stretched out, settling her yellow-and-blue stockinged feet halfway up his wall.

“Awesome,” she murmured, her eyes tilting back to him, and he noticed they were a shade of blue so incredible he was sure the color couldn’t have occurred anywhere in

nature. “Spin me some tunes, Mr. DJ.”

He did, and although he had his own set of headphones on, he wasn’t sure he really heard any of the music he played for her. His senses were otherwise engaged, feeling the silky brush of her hair against his arm, her neck arched over the swell of his thigh, her pulse beating time at the hollow of her soft, pale throat.

He stared at her like a starving man in a prison cell watching a buffet parade by. The way her sweater pulled up when she stretched gave him an astonishing and intoxicating glimpse at the dip of her navel. To Henry, she smelled like rain and sweet corn and fields of poppies, like every good thing he could imagine, and he wanted to lose himself in the experience of her completely.

And that’s just what happened. He forgot everything but Libby. They’d been listening to music and talking for hours when Dean showed up. Libby had her own iPod with her, and they went through each other’s song lists, him poking fun of her Dave Matthews collection and Libby teasing him about owning anything by John Mayer. They’d been so engaged, Henry had almost forgotten he had a roommate.

“Did you see that touchdown?” Dean burst through the door, tossing his jacket at his desk chair. Libby was now sitting next to Henry on his bed, both of them wearing headphones, and they viewed each other guiltily. Neither of them had thought to check the football scores.

“We creamed them! Twenty-eight to nine! Boo-yah!” Dean pumped his fist in the air. “I had four guys on me, and I’m running like this…” Dean squatted low and ran in place, head down. “And this jackhole comes around this side like he’s superman or something, ready to tackle me.” Dean weaved, first left, then right. “And I’m like, I don’t think so!” Dean slammed an invisible football down onto the floor. “Touchdown!”

“Good game.” Henry flipped through his iPod, hitting play.

Libby covered her mouth, stifling a giggle. The song was Carly Simon’s “You’re So Vain.”

“You guys saw it, right?”

“Sure,” Libby agreed, sliding her headphones down around her neck. “Great job.”

“Thanks.” Dean flopped down on his bed. Henry saw his eyes narrow when he realized how close the two of them were sitting on the bed. “So uh…you two look cozy.”

“We’ve just been listening to music, waiting for you.” Libby took her headphones off, handing them to Henry.

“Everything go okay at the frat?” Henry turned his iPod off, tossing it aside.

“All set.” Dean’s grin widened. “Pledge week is gonna be a blast.”

“For everyone but the pledges,” Libby muttered, picking invisible fuzz off her sweater.

“Well, I’m glad you like the roommate.” Dean leaned back against the wall, real casual, but Henry heard the edge in his voice. “It’s always good when everyone gets along.”

“Speaking of roommates.” Libby swung her legs off the edge of the bed. “What do you guys say we double with mine? She’s really sweet, very pretty, and she just broke up with her boyfriend.”

“Uh-oh.” Dean rolled his eyes. “On the rebound?”

“I think she just needs to go out and have some fun, you know?”

“There’s a new horror flick playing at the Goodrich,” Henry offered. “ Let Me In. A vampire movie. A real one.”

“As long as they don’t sparkle, I’m there,” Libby insisted, just when Henry thought his estimation of the girl couldn’t have improved.

“Cool! So what’s this girl’s name?” Dean asked. “My man Henry wants to know who he’s going out with, am I right?”

“Um…” Libby froze, her gaze shifting between the two of them. She felt as trapped as he did, Henry realized. What were they supposed to do now? Libby’s mouth turned down in resignation as she gave Dean what he wanted. “Elaine.”

“Oh that’s right.” Dean leaned forward, fingers tented between his knees. “You room with Elaine Litman, don’t you?” He looked at his roommate. “She’s hot, dude. Seriously. She’s got great-” He stopped when Libby gave him a sharp look. “A great personality,” he finished.

“Well, listen, it’s late…” Libby stood stiffly, reaching over Henry for her coat and he froze when the soft swell of her sweatered breast brushed his arm.

“You’re not going?” Dean frowned, standing too.

“I’ve got to get up early tomorrow.” Libby smiled a thank-you when Henry handed over her mittens, scarf and hat. “Great game, Dean.”

“Thanks.” He reached for his coat. “I’ll just walk you back to your dorm.”

“No, that’s okay.” Libby pulled on her hat and mittens. “I have to stop by the library to pick up something anyway. I’ll take the bus. I’ll be fine.”

“When do you want to go to the movies?” Henry asked, still sitting on his bed, too aware of the cooling space next to him where her warm body had been. He figured he might as well take advantage of every chance he could get to see her, even if he was playing second fiddle to his roommate.

She visibly brightened, wrapping her scarf around her neck. “How about next Friday?”

“I’ll call you.” Dean opened the door for her and Henry couldn’t help smiling when Libby took the opportunity to pull her scarf up to cover her mouth when Dean leaned in to try and kiss her goodbye.

“All my clothes?” Henry frowned over at Dean, who was already nearly stripped down to his skivvies.

There were maybe thirty of the pledges left now at the end of Greek Week. Those were the only ones who had managed to stick it out to the end, and while Henry was proud he was one of them, he also knew it was mostly because Dean was his roommate. He never would have made it through some of the stuff they’d been forced to do that week without him. He certainly would never have received an invitation otherwise.

“Trust me.”

How many times had Dean said that to him this week? But still, he went along. It was hard to say “no” to Dean Mosher, and not only was it difficult, but you got the feeling it just wasn’t a good idea.

Henry pulled his t-shirt off, shivering. The room was cold. Did they even have the heat on? The other guys were stripping too. They’d gotten used to taking orders this week, he supposed. They’d pretty much done everything that was asked of them, from the simplest things, like learning the history and traditions of the organization and then passing tests (oral exams, mostly, rousted out of bed at two in the morning and answering questions while blindfolded and tied to chairs) to the campus-wide scavenger hunt, where they had to find everything from a fifth of Jack Daniels to used condoms.