Perfekt Order (The Ære Saga Book 1) (3 page)

“They do that even if you’re not living in
one of the residence halls?” Jason asked.

“Redwood does.” I shrugged. “It came with the
freshman orientation packet. I just checked the box that said
‘off-campus housing’ and filled out the form. A few weeks later
they sent Heather and Charlotte’s names and e-mail addresses. A
week ago we got another roommate—Brynn.”

“Cool name.” A sly grin spread across Jason’s
face. “I’ll bet she’s some super hot athlete chick.”

“She’s really pretty,” I agreed. “She’s from
Sweden. She’s the only one I’ve met so far.”

“Swedish? Definitely super hot then. I’ll be
sure to come visit.” Jason nodded. “Well, I’m sure you know what
you’re doing. Start with your roommates, and branch out from there.
You’ll be fine.”

“Thanks, Jase.” I quickly lined my lips, then
filled them in with a pinky-nude lipstick.

“Hey, listen. I know you’ve always done
things a certain way. You’re my little rule follower, and that’s
great. Usually.”

“There’s a
but
coming, isn’t there?” I
smiled. It was impossible to be annoyed with someone who always
looked out for you.

Well, not impossible…

“But…” Jason returned my smile. “Life isn’t
always black and white. Sometimes you’ll find yourself in a
situation our upbringing didn’t prepare you for. God knows I have.
I just want you to promise me one thing.”

“What?”

“Break a few of your all-important rules for
me. College is full of once-in-a-lifetime experiences. It’s the
most freedom with the least responsibility we’re ever going to
have. Stay out late, go crazy at parties, maybe even go on a date
once in a while. I promise they won’t kick you out of Math Club for
having a little fun.”

“I have fun.” My chin jutted upwards. If
Jason didn’t think quadratic equations and ski practice were fun,
then he didn’t have the sense God gave a goat.

“Just live a little. That’s all I’m
saying.”

Since my brother was prone to spouting wisdom
worthy of a tiny green Jedi master, I forgave his ignorance
surrounding the joy of math. “Okay, Bro-da. Just for you.”

Jason chuckled at the nickname. He looked so
pleased with himself that I didn’t have the heart to point out he
was dead wrong. Sure, math and “chick sports” might not constitute
“living” in his world. But I
did
know what life held for me:
college, a cutting-edge engineering job, and a “happily-evah-aftah”
with a real-life Prince Charming, just like our maternal southern
belle always promised.

“Well, I’d better go. Wish me luck at this
thing.”

“Party on, Mees.” Jason held up his hand in a
fist. “You’ve got this.

“Thanks. Try not to break too many hearts
this semester, okay?”

“I never make a promise I can’t keep.” Jason
shot me a wink, and I laughed.

“Love you, Jase.”

“Love you, Mia.”

I turned off my phone and slid it into my
back pocket, then took a deep breath and walked purposefully down
the hall.

Here we go.

****

When I was halfway down the staircase, I was
accosted by a whirlwind of blond curls and vanilla perfume.

“Are you ready or what,
flicka
?
Charlotte just texted me—she and Heather are already at the party.
Let’s go!”

Brynn bounced on her tiptoes, her pale green
eyes radiating joy and her ear-splitting smile brimming with
energy. If she was going to be this chipper all the time, I’d be
sure to hit the coffee before our paths crossed in the
mornings.

“How do I look?” I twirled.

Brynn eyed me from top to bottom.
“Hair—touchably soft. Makeup—subtly sexy. Outfit—chic yet
comfortable. You can’t go wrong with skinny jeans. You’re
perfekt
. And we’re missing all the fun—come on!” Brynn
grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me down the stairs.

“I just have to grab—”

“You’re fine.” The living embodiment of cheer
bounded for the front door, dragging me behind her. She skipped
down the porch steps so quickly, I practically had to run to keep
up. How did anyone have this much energy at nine p.m.? Brynn must
have been a night owl.

We made our way across the street and onto
the lawn of a three-story Victorian. Brynn navigated the sea of
students strewn across the grass, making her way toward two girls
on the front porch, holding red cups. As we got closer, I
recognized them from the pictures we’d exchanged.
Smile on. It’s
time to meet the roommates.

“Heather! Charlotte! I got her!” Brynn
finally let go of my wrist, and propelled me unceremoniously onto
the porch. I stopped myself just before stepping on the shorter
girl’s black Converse sneakers.

“Sorry,” I apologized.

“No worries.” The girl waved. She had crimson
hair that fell in soft waves around her face. Her boyfriend jeans,
graphic tee and green rectangular-framed glasses gave off a hipster
vibe. “I’m Heather.”

“And I’m Charlotte. So lovely to meet you
after all those e-mails, Mia.” Charlotte held out her hand, and I
shook it. She had silky, black hair that fell in an angled bob to
the top of her shoulders, with thick bangs that must have needed
weekly trims, and she wore suede ankle boots that were to die
for.

“It was definitely a long summer. It’s great
to meet you both.” I nodded at Charlotte’s feet. “Fabulous
boots.”

“I picked them up this afternoon,” she
confessed. She spoke with the prim cadence of a librarian, but her
brown eyes were crinkled in a friendly expression and her smile
radiated warmth. From the way she stood—spine straight, shoulders
back, hands folded softly at her waist—I guessed she was either a
fellow prep school graduate, or had the ‘pleasure’ of attending
cotillion, the South’s equivalent to etiquette boot camp.

“Charlotte’s obsessed with shoes. She picked
up
four
pairs on her Target run, which was supposed to be
for laundry detergent.” Heather hooked her thumbs in her belt
loops. She had the kind of throaty voice I imagined black-and-white
film stars must have had, and her words came at their own pace;
leisurely, like a jazz melody on a summer afternoon.

“And I came
out
with laundry
detergent.” Charlotte put her hand on her hip.

“Along with?” Heather pushed her glasses up
on her nose with one finger. She’d painted her nails the same shade
of green as her frames.
Fun
.

“Along with a fedora, a new belt and… four
pairs of shoes.” Charlotte huffed. “I do not see the problem with
sampling the local merchandise.”

“What you sampled was made in China,” Heather
pointed out.

“Well, then the sales tax boosted the city’s
economy. Or something. And it’s not like I didn’t offer to share
them with you.
Moi
closet is
toi
closet. That goes
for all of you.” Charlotte smiled beatifically.

“I could be in for a clothes swap.” I nodded.
Quadrupling my wardrobe without setting foot in a store sounded
like a fabulous deal. “If what we’re wearing tonight is a barometer
for the rest of our clothes, we’ve got just about every look
covered.”

“And speaking of looks…” Brynn tilted her
head to the side. “Somebody’s checking you out, Charlotte.”

Our eyes followed Brynn’s gesture. On the
other side of the porch, two guys sipped from red plastic cups and
stared at our little group. Charlotte’s perfect posture
straightened even more.

“The one on the right is Matt. He brought
over the flier about the party. He’s from Texas,” Charlotte
whispered.

“And the hottie on the left was washing his
car shirtless in the front yard this afternoon. He’s got smokin’
arms, and that’s all I need to know.” Heather pulled her shoulders
back, thrusting her chest forward in the process.

“Well, it sounds like you two have work to
do. I’ll expect a full report back at the house.” I nudged them
gently toward their would-be suitors and turned to Brynn with a
smile. “What about you? Anyone here catch your eye?”

“Yes.” Brynn giggled as she grabbed my wrist
and trotted toward the front door. She must have downed one of
those energy drinks while I was in the shower. It wasn’t humanly
possible for anyone to be this perky without chemical
assistance.

“Oh good. They did come!” Brynn bubbled. She
smoothed the front of her sweater as she walked into the house, and
turned around, waving for me to follow her. My stomach dropped the
minute I entered the room. Brynn smiled at me, oblivious. “How are
my teeth?”

“Um, pearly white. How are mine?” I flashed a
grin, but my teeth were the least of my concerns. Sixty people must
have been packed into the tiny space, with more spilling over into
what I assumed was the kitchen.
Little gathering my left
foot.
I shuddered. Jason would have rolled his eyes at my
insecurity, but this living room was absolutely packed with
flannel-shirted athletes and the co-eds dressed to impress them.
RSU students had an awful lot of low-cut tops and generous bosoms.
My fingers grazed the top of my V-necked sweater—it stopped a good
inch north of my cleavage.
Well, shoot
. If my Prince
Charming was at this party, he’d better find clavicles sexy.

Brynn waved across the room, her long blond
curls bouncing against her back. Then she clapped her hands
together and squealed. “Yay!”

There was no way not to smile. Brynn’s energy
was infectious. “Who are you waving at?”

“My friends from back home. Come on.” She
tugged at my hand and practically dragged me into the mob of
inebriated college students. “I’ll introduce you.”

Brynn raced across the living room, expertly
dodging red plastic cups and lip-locked lovers. I kept my eyes on
the tiny feet skipping in front of me and moved with as much care
as possible while being hurtled through what amounted to the
ultimate kegger obstacle course.

Since I was staring at the ground, I failed
to see the mountain before I plowed into it.

Ouch.

“Whoa. Slow down.” Strong hands gripped my
shoulders as I tumbled backward. They set me gently on my feet and
held tight. I waited for my ears to stop ringing. “Brynn’s not the
greatest navigator. You okay?”

“I’m fine. I think…” I managed to look up and
my hand flew to my forehead. Occasionally, I’d fallen hard enough
on the slopes to see double, but I’d never imagined an entire
person before. The guy holding onto my shoulders
obviously
wasn’t real; nobody could actually look like that. He was tall; he
probably had a foot on my five-feet, seven-inches. He was huge;
calling him a mountain hadn’t been much of a stretch. His hands
could have circled my waist easily, and biceps the circumference of
a baby sequoia strained against his T-shirt. And his eyes… they
were a midnight blue I thought I’d seen exactly once before. They
held my gaze for an endless moment, sucking me into their
bottomless depths. I was completely mesmerized, and at the same
time I felt as if the wind had been knocked out of me.
It
couldn’t be him. Nothing actually happened in the forest.

I ignored the throbbing in my wrist where I’d
dreamed the terrifying animal had latched on to my arm, and I tried
to pretend Hercules’ voice didn’t match the deep growl of my
imaginary savior.
The imaginary savior I conjured up in my
exhaustion-induced delirium
.

My fingers dropped to my cheeks, which
tingled in the slightly uncomfortable way they did after a really
hard workout. My head swam, whether from the impact of our
collision or his touch, I couldn’t be sure.

Seriously, he
couldn’t
be real.

The stranger’s sandy blond hair stood in
artfully arranged disarray atop a face that looked as if it had
been lifted off a movie star. High angular cheekbones, a strong,
square jaw, and pale pink lips with just a hint of fullness were
accented by those eyes that seemed to bore right through me. My
heart pounded against my chest at twice its normal pace, sending a
very clear message to my very addled brain.

Oh, yum.

“How many fingers am I holding up?” Hercules
took one hand off my shoulder to flash two fingers. His eyes never
broke contact while he assessed my reaction.

“Uh… two?” The squeak in my voice betrayed my
nerves. Maybe he wouldn’t notice the flames bursting off my
overheated cheeks like sunspots. I cleared my throat and dropped my
voice a register. “Two.”

The stranger chuckled. “Well, your vision
wasn’t impaired by Brynn’s lousy leadership.”

My knees buckled at the sound of his
laughter. When Hercules reached out to catch my waist, the inferno
in my cheeks blazed anew.
Get it together, Ahlström
.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked.

“I’m… uh… I’m great. Thank you.” I fought
against his magnetic pull and stepped back, raising my voice to be
heard above the music. “I’m Mia. You must be Brynn’s friend.”
The friend she forgot to mention just walked off the cover
of
Men’s Fitness
.
The guy was absolute physical
perfection—every single one of his abs was clearly visible through
the fabric of his light blue T-shirt. Forget the six-pack, there
was a bulk-discount-store
case
of muscles underneath that
thin layer of cotton.

“Must be,” the stranger said lightly. He held
out his hand and gave mine a gentle squeeze. “I’m Tyr Fredriksen.
And this is Henrik Andersson.”

Tee-eer
and Henrik?

For the first time, I noticed there were two
mountain-sized men standing with Brynn. The second was a few inches
shorter than Tyr, with grey-blue eyes shielded by thin
silver-framed glasses. He wore his two hundred-plus pounds of
muscle on a slightly leaner frame, and his smile gave him the kind
of charisma intrinsic in actors or politicians. No wonder Brynn was
beaming up at him.