Chace had been all settled in his dorm room for a few days, almost a week, which was weird since it was still weeks before the semester had begun. But Chace was not known for his patience, and he was known for his persistence, so it wasn't much of a surprise that he had goaded the housing people to let him start crashing earlier then he was, strictly speaking, allowed to.
He hadn't come to Boston because of Wind. He had come because he needed to be far away from New Orleans now, far away from his family and his second family and all of the drama and the stupidity that had come from their war, and from their stupid dumb bastard of a beta wolf. Stupid dumb bastard. Just the thought of him brought a growl to his lips. But he smoothed himself out, counting to ten like his alpha had taught him, reminding himself that he had left all of that behind and that dwelling on it now was going to have absolutely no positive effect. So he went back to dressing, eventually settling on a pair of jeans and a somewhat tight t-shirt. He pulled a hat over his head and then went to scope himself out in the mirror. He pursed his lips. Was he good looking enough in the outfit? Yes, he thought that he was. It would work for him. But was he too good looking? He didn't want to give Wind's stupid jealous alpha wolf after any fucking ideas about any fucking ideas that Chace might have. He just wanted to hang out with his friend, that was all, he wasn't trying to start anything. Dumb werewolf bullshit, Chace was completely over it. But he wanted Wind to have peace in his house, and he wanted to be able to spend time with Wind, so if he had to play the game for the bigger wolf's sake, then, hell, he would play it.
No, he decided, he didn't look too sexy. He was fine.
Two things happened at once: Chace's phone vibrated in his tight (but not-too-tight) pants, and a honking cacophony started up in the street below. Chace smiled; he didn't even need to read the text to know that it was from Wind. He rushed out of his room, remembering for maybe the first time to lock his door, took the steps three at a time, and soon he was rushing out of the door, screaming – practically howling – with joy.