Boyfriend Bargain (Hawthorne University #1)(39)

I chew on my lips. “Has he ever had a serious girlfriend?”

“A high school sweetheart. I never met her.” He shakes his head, his face solemn. “She died in a car wreck right before he graduated from prep school…” He stops talking and sighs. “Willow was her name, but he doesn’t talk about her.”

My heart drops and I scramble to reinvent him in my head, picturing him with a girlfriend and then losing her. I think about his comments during class, about darkness and being lonely. “Is that why he doesn’t get serious with girls?”

He flashes me a bright smile. “Maybe he hasn’t met the right one?”

I blush.

He snorts. “Did you know he adopted a cat but pretends he doesn’t really care? I mean, she sleeps in his bed with him. You should hear him talk to her in the morning when he thinks I’m asleep. Dude is whipped by a cat.” He laughs.

I nod absently, my mind still on the girlfriend. I’m dying to ask more specific questions, but it feels like an intrusion.

I should just ask Z.

“You say you need a minute and here you are with Eric,” comes a husky voice, and we both turn to see him standing there. I freeze, wondering how much of our conversation he heard.

Eric holds his hands up and takes a step away from me. “Just being friendly is all.”

Z’s face is hard, and his gaze goes from me to Eric.

Some girl calls out Eric’s name, and he flashes an I’m sorry look at me before heading off. “Babe!” he says to the girl, giving her a twirl, and she ruffles his hair.

I look back at Z, and he’s never taken his eyes off me.

“He flirts with everyone,” he says. “Don’t think you’re special.”

I frown. “We were talking about you.”

“Did you learn anything interesting?”

“No.”

“Maybe if you’d stick around long enough to talk to me, you might learn something.”

“Lola isn’t my cup of tea, and you seemed to have it under control.”

He studies my face. “I never slept with her, in case you were wondering.”

“I wasn’t. This whole thing between us is pretend.”

“Right,” he says with a frown. He holds up his black varsity jacket. It’s black with gold sleeves and has the Hawthorn Lions crest on the back. “I thought you might be cold so I brought you this. You seem to like coats.”

I stare at it.

“Put it on. It’s cold out here. Please.” That last bit is added after a beat.

“You like telling me what to do, don’t you?”

“Are you saying you don’t like it? Because, well, I know how to read you, and you do like it, Miss Ryan.”

He gives me a heavy-lidded look as I take a step toward him and he envelopes me in the jacket. The sleeves go past my fingertips, the length reaching the hem of my dress. I let out a shiver as I huddle inside it.

“Still cold?” he asks, his voice low, his gaze intent.

I shake my head and let out a breath. “Yes, but I—I just like the smell of your coat. It smells like you.”

His jaw clenches, and he stares at me, almost fuming, his eyes hot.

“What?” I ask.

His teeth seem to grind. “I want to fuck you so bad.”

My body clenches.

“I’ve wanted a repeat since the moment you walked out of the Kappa house. And while I’m being honest, it pisses me off when Eric flirts with you. I know he doesn’t mean anything by it, but I’ve had a shitty week and all I’ve looked forward to is this party, which I can barely stand, but I knew you’d be here, and it’s killing me that I can’t have you.”

My heart flies. This is…this is a lot to take in. His brutal honesty, the way he looks at me—him.

“You want me too, but you’re in denial.” His hands rise and button the coat up, adjusting the collar against my neck while I’m flailing around inside, trying to figure out what to say. “This looks good on you. It could be the only thing you’re wearing and no one would ever know you’re naked underneath.” His face is serious as he traces the curve of my jawline and moves up to my cheekbone. Soft fingers trace my eyebrows. “You’re so goddamn gorgeous, Sugar.”

My eyes close. Shit, shit, shit. His touch…I…I…

“You want me,” he says softly. “Admit it.”

The blood in my veins goes molten, and fuck…it’s true. I’ve been trying to hold him off, hold this crazy thing back, but I can’t. There’s nothing pretend about how much I want him.





20





Zack





“Come with me,” I say, taking her hand.

She stares down at our intertwined fingers.

“Please,” I add, dying to get her alone before this moment passes.

She nods and I steer her through the few people out on the deck.

“Great game last week,” someone calls out, a guy, but I don’t look his way. My dick is so hard it hurts.

She’s behind me, her heels clacking against the wood, following me. I stop at the bottom of the steps and help her maneuver them.

“Where are we going?” she asks as we pass by the flowerbeds at the corner of the deck.