Still sweating, I stripped off my T-shirt and stood in front of the air-conditioning, letting it blast straight on to my stomach and chest. “When do you start the internship? Next week, right?”

“Yeppers. It’s going to be awesome.”

Kylie was going to be working at the hospital in the nurses’ station, doing their menial crap. It sounded like a whole new dimension of hell to me, but Kylie loved people, and she was excited to be giving directions to visiting family members and taking Popsicles to sick people.

There was a knock on my door, and I told Kylie, “Hang on.” Then I called in the direction of the hall, “Yeah?”

What I didn’t expect was Riley to actually open the door. Yeah didn’t mean open. Yeah didn’t mean check me out in my bra, letting the air-conditioning freeze my sweat in stink streams down between my tits and disappear into my belly button. I almost dropped my phone when I turned and saw him standing the doorway, his eyes trained on my bra. Granted, it wasn’t anything that wouldn’t be shown in a bikini. I wasn’t even showing as much, because I had shorts on, but it didn’t make me feel any less naked. Especially given the way he was staring, his nostrils flaring.

“What?” I asked, irritated. Or turned on, whatever you wanted to call it.

His eyes finally lifted and met mine, but they were dark and sexy, intense. “I ordered a pizza when you were at the store. It’s here if you want some.”

“Cool. Thanks.” I was trying to be casual about the whole thing, but then I realized that this was a perfect opportunity to lay down a rule of my own. “You probably shouldn’t come in my room unless I say ‘come in.’”

But it turned out it was the absolutely wrong thing to say. He grinned, and his hands slid into the front pockets of his jeans. He still wasn’t wearing a shirt, not that I could blame him, given that it was ass-crack hot in the house. Now he didn’t look in any hurry to retreat or to check out my chest further. He just stood there smirking.

“Why, what are you doing in here that you need a locked door and a hoodie duct-taped to the window?”

“What do you mean?” Though I knew exactly what he meant.

“You’re either cooking meth or filming a sexy YouTube video.”

I snorted. “No. Now go away. I’m on the phone.”

“Fine. Hurry, or I’m eating the whole pizza without you.” He turned, the metal-spiked bracelets on his wrist jangling as he pulled his hand out of his pocket.

Feeling flushed, I lifted my phone back to my ear. “Hello?”

Kylie had hung up. Nice.

But she had texted.

Riley? HAWT.

I rolled my eyes, but even as I tapped a denial, I totally agreed with her. Snagging my tank top, I went for a slice of pizza, knowing it would bloat me, but I was hungry. It sucked not to have cafeteria access in the university center, no matter how dicey the teriyaki beef was. Plus it seemed stupid to be ignoring Riley when I could be fighting with him. It was way more fun.

Especially when I had the satisfaction of walking in to the living room right as Riley moved past the coffee table with the pizza box, triggering the automatic room freshener I had bought at the store. He jumped.

“What the fuck is that?” he asked as it misted up along his hip.

“It’s an air freshener. It goes off automatically when there is an odor or motion.”

He looked at me like this was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard in the existence of stupid things. “I hope that wasn’t more than a dollar or you were ripped off.”

“The sun is going down, so do I have permission to open the windows?” I asked, already walking over to do just that. Between a breeze and the mister, maybe the room would smell less like an old ashtray and more just like stale boy.

“No.” Then he grinned when I stopped in my tracks and turned to glare at him. “I’m kidding. Knock yourself out.”

“I’d rather knock you out.”

“Badass.” Riley picked up a piece of pizza and bit off a piece so huge, literally half the slice disappeared in his mouth.

I felt like I instantly gained five pounds on my ass just watching him. So not fair that guys could eat whatever. Hell, Rory could eat whatever she wanted, too, and she never grew tree trunks masquerading as thighs. But I had to fight to stay in shape, with massive amounts of cardio classes and strength training. If you could major in zumba I would because it felt like I spent half my life in the pseudo salsa classes. Sighing, I slid the window open and vowed to only eat one piece of pizza.

There were no plates. Or napkins. Riley was wiping his fingers on his jeans and resting his slice on the closed box. But given the state of the coffee table surface, that was probably the best plan. Dust and cigarette ash probably weren’t good seasonings. Lifting the lid carefully so his piece didn’t slid off onto the floor, I pulled out my own slice and sat down next to him on the couch. The pizza was loaded with everything, including tiny meatballs, and my mouth started watering.

“Thanks for sharing.”

“You’re welcome.” He finished the slice in one more bite and reached for another one. Something about the movement set off the air freshener again to his left. “Christ.” He waved his hand around. “That smells awful.”

“You think the air freshener smells worse than this room did?” I was in awe. In my opinion it already smelled better from the ocean breeze mister and the air blowing in through the open window.

“This thing smells like dead old lady.”

I laughed. “It’s called ocean breeze.”

“No ocean I’ve ever been to smelled like that.”

“How many oceans have you been to?”

He grinned. “None.”

“Have you smelled dead old lady?”

“Probably.”

“No, you haven’t. Or if you have, I’ve leaving because that makes you a serial killer.” Setting my slice of pizza on my knees, I picked a meatball off it and popped it into my mouth. Maybe if I ate slowly, I would fill up and I wouldn’t overeat.

“I’m not a serial killer. But I do go gambling and those old women aren’t even alive, I swear. They’re just propped against the slot machines, abandoned by their families.”

There was an image. “I’ve never been to a casino.”

“They’re both a lot of fun and massively depressing. Full of saps who think their luck is about to change. I don’t believe in luck unless it’s bad luck.”

“You’ve never been lucky? You’ve never won something or had a day where it seems like everything goes right?” I pulled off a mushroom and chewed on it.

Riley gave a laugh. “Look around you, princess. Does it look like anything about my life is lucky? Except for those weeks where if I’m lucky, I can pay all my damn bills.”

I wasn’t sure what to say to that. He had a point. He didn’t sound bitter, not really. Just resigned. Tired. “It sucks that Tyler had to drop out of school.”

Tyler had been getting an associate’s degree so he could be an EMT, but then he had been arrested for carrying his mother’s drugs, and he’d had to drop out. Rory had told me that Riley and Tyler had been counting on Tyler having a stable job to bring in money, and now that was gone.

“Yeah.” Riley stared at my knees. “What the hell are you doing? Are you going to eat that or just pick it to death?”

“I’m not really hungry,” I lied.

He shook his head. “I can hear your stomach growling. Are you worried about gaining weight? Christ, you girls drive me crazy.”

“Easy for you to say, but we all know everyone hates on the fat chick.”

“You’re hot. Stop worrying about it.”

“Thanks, I guess.” I nibbled a pepperoni.

“I’m serious. You have a great body.”

I wasn’t sure how to react to that. He didn’t sound at all like he was flirting with me. He sounded more like a best friend, like Kylie or Rory. None of my guy friends ever bothered to reassure me, and my gay friend Devin just flat out told me that I could become a heifer if I wasn’t careful, that it was in my genes. I carried the predisposed heifer DNA strand apparently.

But while I was trying to come up with a snarky response, he leaned over and crammed his pizza in my mouth. “Bite it.”

I started laughing, trying to pull away. I tried to say “Stop it,” but it sounded like “Stpack” because of my giggles and the cheese and dough way farther in my mouth than I would put. Grabbing his wrists, I tried to force a removal, but he was strong, his skin warm, his eyes dancing with laughter.

Finally my options were bite and chew or gag, so I bit and pulled away. As I chewed I said, “You told me once that I have plenty of padding.” It hadn’t necessarily hurt my feelings because I had taken it that he was just being a jerk, but still, I can’t say that I loved hearing it either, even as a joke.

“What?” He looked at me blankly. “When did I say that?”

“When we were sledding. I was afraid to fall off, and you told me not to worry about getting hurt, that I have plenty of padding.”

“I don’t remember that. But if I said it, I’m sure it was a joke. It’s not like I called you fat or anything.” He sounded a little defensive.

But I remembered, and he should know that. “I don’t doubt for a minute you meant it as a joke, but you wonder why I won’t chow down three slices of pizza? It’s because practically every day someone says something to me, and to every girl I know, that is a casual joke or careless comment, and after about a thousand of those it’s in here”—I tapped my head—“whether you want it to be or not. Every magazine, every TV ad, it’s all about skinny and gorgeous, and girls worry they can’t measure up.”

He was silent for a minute, then he tossed the pizza slice I’d bitten on top of the box. “Sorry. Guess I never thought about it that way.”

I shrugged. “It’s a societal disease, what can I say? Girls have the pressure to be a size zero just like you guys constantly get called wimp, pussy, fag, girl, all those awful and offensive names to make you feel weak and inadequate. It’s stupid.”

“You’re right. It is very stupid.” He turned to me. “But just know that when you’re here, you can chow down on three slices of pizza if you want, and I’ll never think you’re anything less than gorgeous. Even if you chew with your mouth open.”

I laughed, appreciating his compliment and the fact that he seemed to get it. “I don’t chew with my mouth open!”

“I never said you did. But you can if you want to.”

It seemed to be an invitation, so I picked up his piece of pizza and took a healthy bite. God, that was good. It was like a rush of forbidden fat, and my taste buds stood up and did a happy dance. I chewed and flashed Riley a healthy mouthful, sticking my tongue out to make sure he got a full view.

“Nice,” he said in approval. “Fuck this eating like a bird shit. You’re hungry, own it. Round it out with a burp and I’ll think you’re basically the perfect woman.”

I hadn’t burped out loud since . . . ever. My mother would have melted in mortification, then managed to piece herself back together just to punish me, usually by donating my favorite outfits to charity. My father would have forced me to scrub the kitchen floor. For some reason, that had been his favorite form of discipline, and it hadn’t escaped my notice as I grew up that it was a subservient position, on my knees.

Public belching was not a freedom I had embraced since I’d come to college because it wasn’t about rebellion to me, it was about doing what I wanted, and frankly, I’d never had the desire to burp out loud. But why not? If I was going to with anyone, Riley seemed the perfect candidate. We weren’t exactly friends, and we weren’t anything else. So I took a sip of his beer and tried to work one up. I swallowed hard and opened my mouth and held my hands out, but nothing happened.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked. “You look like you’re giving birth.”

“Shut up!” I laughed. “I’m concentrating.”

“Constipating is more like it.”

Gross. It was a good thing I was not trying to impress him. “You’re the one who wanted me to burp.”

“A burp should be spontaneous, natural.” He let one rip. “Like that.”

“I just don’t have your talent, what can I say?” I tried again and a feeble, forced belch dribbled up. “Ew.”

“Yeah, you’re going to need some work. But we’ve got all week.”

Why did that actually make me happy? I didn’t want to really think about it, but there was something totally different about being with him one on one. I didn’t feel as uncomfortable with his snarking as I had before, and there was something actually kind of liberating about not giving a shit what he thought. I could just be myself and it didn’t matter. When was I ever actually myself? I wasn’t even sure.