Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 105815 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105815 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
There’s a quizzical expression on his face. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Dude. I thought you were gonna wait, like your dad said.”
“It’s a study thing. The library closes early on Sundays, so it’s my place or the Kappa house and, well, we all know we can’t go there. Our house is the only option. I don’t want to go to her place. That feels worse. Right? At least I’m in control here. I don’t know. Dammit. She’s going to be here any minute. She gets off at ten…” I jerk up a damp towel someone left on the ground. (It was me.)
“I can help you write it,” he offers.
“You suck at lit.”
“True.” He props his feet on the coffee table, scratches his abs, and picks up the remote to click the TV on.
“Put a shirt on. Geeze. No one wants to see your six-pack but you.”
He waves a hand at his chest. “You’re just jealous ’cause I’m cut like diamonds. How did this study thing come about?”
“I saw her at the bar,” I explain. Crew and Hollis weren’t there tonight. “She wants a rebound, and Crazy Carl was there. I wasn’t even going to sit down with them, but I did, and now I made a deal for her help with my paper. She’s going on the ski trip with me, and I said I’d find her a guy.” I pause. “Basically, I’m insane.”
He nods. “The best people are. Guess you aren’t telling Donovan about the study thing?”
“Not sure why he would need to know. He wouldn’t like it, I’m sure. It’s too late now. I mean, my mouth was saying crap while my brain was yelling What are you doing?, and holy shit, It was my idea. I couldn’t stop, and what if she figures out I can’t understand these books and thinks I’m stupid—”
Crew comes out of his room, frowning. At least he has a shirt on. “Ana’s coming over?”
“Yeah,” I say.
He checks me out. “You look sober.”
“It’s a class thing,” I mutter. “Nothing else.”
“You’re wound tight, bro. You okay?” he adds as I spin my ring.
“We’re on your side” comes from Hollis as he stands. “One hundred fucking percent. If you wanna take a shot at her, it will cause some strife with the brothers, can’t lie, but we support you. I said to keep it in your pants, but I was joking. You do you.”
It’s not anything they haven’t said before.
But I am the president.
He is my friend.
“We’re just studying,” I say, stalking into the kitchen. Everything is piling up in my head. Her. This class. My future at Braxton. Mom.
It makes it hard to figure out what to do.
I wipe off the counters with a paper towel then head to my bedroom and shut the door, my eyes darting from one mess to another.
In record time, I make my bed, straighten my desk, and shove all the dirty clothes in the closet or under the bed, whichever is closest—just as the doorbell rings.
I dash to the bathroom and check my hair, fingers rearranging it. I toss on some cologne—then stop. No attracting the hot girl.
I hear her voice out in the den, and I step out and walk that way.
She’s talking to Hollis—who’s put a shirt on—and Crew.
There’s a hesitant look on her face, as if she doesn’t quite know what to say to them, and I hate it. Normally she’d be laughing with them. They’re nice to her, asking how she is and what her plans are for exams and Christmas.
Her green eyes find mine and she pushes her glasses up nervously. She’s gone home to grab her laptop and has changed into black leggings and a gray Braxton sweatshirt with a Badger on it.
“How was June?” I ask, infusing my voice with nonchalance.
She smiles. “Changed her bandages. Took her dinner. She’s good. It’s colder tonight, but, ah, yeah, she refuses any help. Thank you for asking.”
“Who’s June?” Crew asks.
She pauses. “Family.”
I nod, not able to take my eyes off her.
She’s in my fucking house.
“No trouble finding our place?” I ask.
“I’ve known where you live for a while.” She taps her temple. “Locked in my safe.”
I huff out a laugh. “Touché.”
“You didn’t think I’d remember you being at my apartment, but I do. I can’t believe I thought you were a mirage projected by my brain.” A blush steals up her face. “I really can’t believe I danced—”
“You went low, low, low…” I grin. Oh, I recall it very well. Her heart-shaped, perfect ass, the bare skin of her waist, the press of her full breasts against her shirt, the way her hair fell around her face, the teasing glint in her eyes when she begged me to dance—
Pause that thought. Shit. Right. No flirting. Was I flirting? Nah, I was being nice. Just nice. That’s it. I swear.