The Locker Room(18)

Shaking my head, I type back.

Emory: You have one chance to make a good first impression in student chat and you open with yo? I expected more from you.

Knox: I wasn’t going to waste a good opening on the possibility of you not accepting my chat.

Emory: Does that mean you have a secondary opening?

Knox: Obviously.

Emory: Do I get to read it?

Knox: I don’t know. I’m trying to decide if you’re worthy or not.

Emory: You’re the one who messaged me. I can sign out anytime I want.

Knox: You’re fucking brutal. Fine . . . ahem, here it goes; What’s up?

I laugh out loud, hating that he so easily entertains me. What a doofus.

Emory: Wow, I think you just blew my socks off.

Knox: See why I saved it? Can’t waste that shit on just anyone.

Emory: I hope you keep that opening a secret. Can you imagine the number of socks that would be flying off feet all over campus? It’s dangerous.

Knox: Lethal.

Emory: I’m glad you saved it for me. I’m indebted to you.

Knox: Really? ((Rubs hands together)) Should I cash in now?

Emory: I’m clearly kidding.

Knox: Nope, I have it in writing ^^^ right up there. You’re indebted to me. So I’m cashing in.

Emory: “Cash in” all you want, still doesn’t mean I’m going to do whatever you ask.

Knox: Stubborn woman.

Emory: ^^That’s winning you friends.

Knox: Come to the party tonight.

Emory: Just jumping right into it, are you?

Knox: There is no theme. It’s just to have fun. We have beer and some mixed drinks, and I can even offer you some pretzels.

Emory: Wow, you paint a beautiful evening. The pretzels are a real winning attribute.

Knox: I was going to save this as a last-ditch effort but since I think I might have you hooked with the pretzels, I’m going to bring my offer home and let you in on a little secret; just bought a fresh packet of Oreos. So if you play your cards right, you could be separating Oreos with me tonight.

Emory: Seriously? Oreos, how RARE! Well, then I must go because . . . Oreos.

Knox: Really? You’re coming?

Emory: No. Have a good night, Knox.

I shut the computer before he can respond and smile to myself as I look over to my closet, debating what I should wear tonight.

Oddly, I kind of want to blow him away, which means, I’ll put more thought into what I wear. And maybe, I’ll spend the rest of my time filling my stomach so I don’t get stupid drunk. I did study all day. I deserve this.

And how could I really turn down Oreos?





Chapter Eight





KNOX





“Why does she have to be so goddamn difficult?” I ask Carson as I lean against the window next to the fire escape, surveying the party that I have zero interest in being at. “I mean, I’ve seen the way she looks at me, there’s interest there.”

“Didn’t you say she had an ex-boyfriend that did her wrong?”

“Something like that.” I lift my hat then settle it on my head, backward. I just got my hair cut so it falls smoothly over my head. I would have done my hair if I knew she was coming tonight, but I put zero effort into what I look like, not interested in being near anyone besides Carson. He’s only sticking around because he hasn’t found a girl he’s interested in yet, but the minute he does, I’ll make my way back to my room and lock the door.

Fucking pathetic.

I’m not feeling social right now. Emory has a great way of cutting down a guy’s ego, and for the life of me, I can’t figure out why I like it so damn much.

“Maybe she’s super cautious. Maybe she dated another baseball player and he was a dick. You know how women will associate their feelings like that.”

“Maybe.” I sigh and take a sip from my beer bottle. “Jesus, you would think I was a sick fool in love with the way I’m acting.”

“I was going to say that but didn’t want to sound like an ass.”

I push off the wall and shake my shoulders out, giving myself a little slap to the cheek. “Okay, I’m not going to waste this night just because some girl I hardly know turned me down for the tenth time.”

“Tenth, really?”

“No, well, I’m not really sure, but it feels like that. I’m just going to find someone else.”

“Pretty sure there is a line of college girls waiting to have their chance with you. Just call out a number, see who shows up.”

“Not a bad idea.” I give him a pat on the back. “See any brunettes wearing a skirt?”

Carson rolls his eyes. “If you’re going to try to move on from another girl, don’t go for the exact replica, dude.”

I shrug. “It’s my type right now.”

He chuckles and then points. “Well, there’s a brunette with a skirt, but not sure you can land her.”

“Where?”

“By the beer pong table, near Holt’s room.”

I scan the crowd and when my eyes land on a laughing Emory, my stomach does a tiny little flip.

See? Fucking pathetic. Might as well put a dog tag around my neck that says: Return to owner, Emory Ealson.

Shit, she looks good. Wearing an off-the-shoulder white crop top that gives me a good glimpse of her cleavage, she paired it with a floral skirt that flares at her hips. She looks classy but sexy at the same time, a lethal weapon for my southern heart.