Free In Too Hard (Freshman Roommates Trilogy, Book 3) by Mara Jacobs Page A

not imagine Jane happily dancing at her sister’s wedding and kissing a guy with a ponytail.
    Open bar, I assume? I asked, trying to find some sense in all this.
    You just made me choke on my cocktail. Yes, open bar. But she looks fine, not drunk. Earlier she was dancing with her father and then with some old windbag, long time senator.
    Wow. She is toeing the line for sure.
    Maybe. Not so sure Grayson Spaulding was happy about the kiss. He and Caro Stratton have been watching the happy couple.
    Betsy and Jason?
    No, Jane and Ponytail.
    I was just about to ask him to video tape them dancing and send it to me, so I could see for myself, but before I could he texted, Gotta go. My chance to dance with Betsy.
    Okay.
    Wish we could have FaceTimed instead.
    Me too. I’ll bet you look amazing in a tux I wanted to type, but had the good sense not to.
    Talk to you tomorrow.
    Bye.
    And he was gone. I spent another few minutes working, but my concentration was shot. Thoughts of Jane dancing and kissing a mystery man kept me entertained for the whole walk back to my dorm.
    Thoughts of Montrose in a tux kept me on edge for the entire night.
     
    “How was the wedding last night?” I asked Jane when I called her the next morning.
    There was a pause. A pause in which a thousand scenarios went through my head. The worst one being that Montrose and Betsy had run into Jane and Ponytail on the dance floor, decided to switch partners and had realized during the three-minute song how much they’d been fighting their mutual attraction, and decided to finally act on it.
    I think maybe I’d been surrounded by story-telling notes for too long.
    “It was…bearable.”
    “And the dress? Was it as bad as you feared?”
    “Well, it was peach, and there was lace involved.”
    I started giggling, as did she. “You know what,” she said, “it actually wasn’t that bad. It looked okay on me. And it twirled nicely when I danced.”
    “Did you dance a lot?”
    “No. Not much. Some old goat got a little touchy feely and I only danced for a little bit after that.”
    “Yuck. Did you put the goat in his place?”
    She laughed a tiny bit. “Sort of. Had to play it carefully because he’s some kind of influential guy for my father’s party.”
    “Why does that matter?”
    “Because—get this—my father’s going to run for governor of Maryland.”
    Jane’s father had been a presidential candidate years ago, but had dropped out of the race when his mistress (Jane’s mom) had become pregnant (with Jane). He’d been out of politics ever since.
    “Are you shitting me?” I asked.
    “I wish.”
    We talked about her dad and his upcoming election for half an hour. How they wanted Jane to be involved and how she could use that to her advantage.
    If her father was half the bargaining mastermind that Jane was, Maryland might be in good hands with him as governor.
    She never said anything about seeing Montrose at the wedding. And she definitely didn’t say anything about kissing a guy with a ponytail.
    We said our goodbyes. It was Sunday. I had planned to go to Montrose’s for the whole day since I wasn’t working for my admin job. After breakfast at the nearly empty caf, instead of walking on to Snyder Hall, I turned around and went back to my dorm room. The snow was falling, getting my new boots wet. I hadn’t worn a warm enough sweater under my coat and the idea of crawling back into bed and reading the day away was more tempting than spending the day with Rachel/Esme. That realization alone made me admit I needed a break, and indeed went back to the dorm, put on some heavy wool socks, some sweats, another sweater, and bundled up in bed with my comforter around me like a burrito.
    Okay if I take the day off? I texted to Montrose. I really didn’t think he’d care. I just wanted an excuse to start a conversation.
    Of course I don’t mind. I can’t believe you’ve been in that office every day. I’ve told you that you didn’t have to