The Locker Room(10)

“You can have one of my beers.” I reach behind me to the fridge that one of the freshmen is protecting—you always have someone standing guard—and I grab a beer for her. I pop the top and hand it over.

“Bud Light?” she asks in a distasteful tone.

“Did you think you would be getting a microbrew? It’s a college house.”

“Still”—she takes a sip and cringes—“I thought you’d have a little more class.”

“You’re giving me too much credit.” I nod my head toward the corner of the loft where there are less people. When she doesn’t initially follow me, I turn back around, grab her hand like I had to in class, and pull her across the loft until we’re settled in the corner. I lean against the wall and prop one leg behind me.

She eyes me, giving me a full once-over.

I do the same.

She’s damn hot, and I’m regretting my actions last Saturday, passing out mid grope.

Finally she says, “You seem to have lost your shirt.” She motions with her finger over my bare chest.

I look down at her legs and reply, “Must be where the other half of your skirt is.”

“Think they’re making out in a laundromat somewhere?” She takes a sip of her beer and cringes again. A few more sips and she’ll get used to it; always happens for me.

“If they are, I hope they use the gentle cycle.”

Her brow pulls together. “Not sure if that makes sense.”

“Oh, because half of a skirt and a shirt making out in a laundromat does?”

“In children’s books, sure.”

“What kind of perverted children’s books did you read growing up?” I counter.

“You know, the classics,” she answers causally. “One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish and Skirt and Shirt, Lovers for Life.”

“Ah, yes, I forgot about that passionate yet eye-opening youth literature that took the New York Times by storm.”

“I have five signed first-edition copies in a box in my parents’ attic. Banking on them to clear out my student loans.” She sips her beer, flips her hair behind her shoulder, glances at my chest again.

“Five?” I answer sarcastically. “Damn, forget college loans, you’re set for life.”

“You think?” She glances around. “What the hell am I doing here then?”

“To see me of course,” I answer with a smile.

She rolls her eyes. “More like dragged to this party because my roommate has a crush on one of your freshmen.”

“Yeah, which one?” I look over her head, eyeing all the partygoers.

“No idea, but apparently he has amazing blue eyes.”

“Amazing, huh? Has to be Gunner. I was even stunned by his eyes when he was recruited.” No joke, the dude won the lottery for irises. I’m even jealous with how . . . aqua they are.

“Not ashamed to admit that?” she asks, shifting on her heels.

“Not even a little.” I give her another once-over, taking in her long, toned legs, her smooth stomach, thankfully visible due to her why-bother-wearing-me top. Her body is drop-dead gorgeous, but when you reach her eyes, they speak nothing of vixen, rather more like pure innocence. A total contradiction that has my mind reeling. “So, what are you supposed to be? A cat?”

She glances at her outfit and sighs, taking another sip of her beer. She almost seems bored to be at the party. “I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to be a panther but my roommates fell short in the costume department.”

“Yeah, really short,” I add, eyeing her barely-there skirt. “Please tell me you’re wearing something under that.”

“Nope,” she answers, sipping her beer and then smacking her lips. “I like to feel the wind in my undercarriage when I’m walking.”

I wince. “Undercarriage? Fuck, I don’t want you to call it that.”

She laughs and shakes her head. “I’m not a lady of the night, Knox. Of course I have something under this skirt.” She lifts up the side, flashing tiny black boy shorts. “Honestly, I’m going to be a librarian. I need to be sensible.”

Sensible? More like hot as fuck. I saw partial ass cheek.

I grip my beer close to my mouth and take a deep breath. “A sensible librarian wouldn’t flash a horny college guy her underwear.”

“Well, maybe I’m more of a modern-day librarian then.” She winks and starts to walk away.

“Hey, where are you going?”

She looks over her shoulder. “I have more people to flash. Don’t think you’re the only lucky one.”

Damn, that doesn’t sit well with me.

Not one fucking bit.





Chapter Four





EMORY





“The first week was great, so you have nothing to worry about, Mom.”

I try to keep my voice down as I walk through campus, not wanting to look like one of those students with a homesick mother—I’ve heard the phone calls in passing before.

No, Mom, I’m not drinking.

Yes, Mom, I’m staying out of trouble.

Of course I’m taking my vitamins.

I haven’t even touched the condoms you gave me.