Pucked Up : Boys of Winter Book 1 by A.L Anderson

Author:A.L Anderson [Anderson, A.L]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-07-30T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 24

The screech of the fire alarm and white smoke filled my apartment. Who let me have a stove? Anything I have attempted to cook this year has been a borderline fire hazard. I pulled a smoking casserole dish from the oven with disdain. There was no way this lasagna was edible. I threw the casserole, glass dish and all, into the trash can. Fuck this, it was dining center food from here on out.

Quickly, I pulled out my phone and asked Kennedy if she wanted to meet up for dinner. On top of my destroyed food, I couldn’t keep all that happened between Hunter and me to myself. I was on the verge of exploding with information. According to Hunter, I belonged to him—what does that even mean? Was he just being kinky at the moment? Exploring some free use games? Are we exclusive? Ugh, why didn’t I ask for clarification?

Kennedy responded in approval about dinner. We planned to meet up at one of the on-campus dining halls. My favorite perk about living off campus was the meal plan subsidy they gave us. The university condemned one of the dorm buildings at the end of freshman year. To compensate for the lack of on campus housing, the university opted to give all upperclassmen who lived off campus a 45 meal block for each semester. On nights when I Didn’t feel like cooking or didn’t have time to run home between classes. It was a lifesaver.

I trekked across campus to Patterson's dining hall. It was the most central of the three dining centers on campus. Kennedy waited for me inside in the small area where the student workers swiped our I.D. cards for access. We hugged before making our way through the entrance line.

Patterson was a typical dining hall filled with different serving stations of various cuisines. There was a salad and sandwich bar, a pasta bar, a section for Chinese and Indian cuisine, home-style meals, and a dessert station. Eying my choices, Kennedy made herself a panini at the sandwich bar. Wandering to a different section, I grabbed myself a chicken sandwich and fries. I was such a sucker for a good French fry, but you have to have the superior dipping sauce—barbecue.

I filled up my condiments and made my way to a booth Kennedy snagged for us.

“I would starve to death if it wasn’t for dining centers,” Kennedy declared.

I laughed, “I’d survive on ramen, but I definitely enjoy having the option of someone else cooking for me.”

Dipping one of my fries in barbecue sauce, Kennedy scrunched up her nose. “What the hell are you doing to that fry? That’s sacrilege!”

“Wait until you see what I do to steak,” I pointed a fry at her.

“Please do not tell me you put ketchup on your steak like some heathen.”

“Worse, I put ranch on it,” I chuckled at Kennedy’s disgusted look.

“You’re a lost cause. I don’t think we can be friends anymore,” she stated, pretending to get up from her seat.

I threw a fry at her that bounced off the side of her face.

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