The Locker Room(19)

“Shit, she’s here.”

Carson pats me on the back. “Looks like you should go change because damn, she looks good.”

“Nah, I don’t want her leaving my sight. I’m going in.”

“Good luck,” Carson says with less confidence than I appreciate.

I would normally say I don’t need luck, but with Emory, I might. She’s different than other girls, sexy and intelligent with a hint of resistance that turns me on. I enjoy her banter and her ability to call me out on my shit. She’s fucking fun, and I want to be around her more.

Beer in hand, wearing a simple black T-shirt and jeans, I shift through the crowd and walk straight toward Emory, who’s talking to two other girls. I don’t even bother to wait until they’re done talking. Instead, I walk up next to Emory, put my arm over her shoulder, and bring her close into my chest for a hug. To my surprise, she laughs and presses her hand against my chest as she returns the hug.

That feels good, her tits pressed against me. Fucking amazing.

“Thought you weren’t coming.”

She looks up at me, those green eyes connecting beautifully with mine. “You can thank my roommates for making sure I showed up.”

I glance at the girls in front of us who have huge smiles on their faces. I’m thinking I have the same look on mine as well. “Are these your roommates?” I point with the hand that’s holding my beer bottle.

“Yup. This is Dottie and Lindsay.”

I give them a quick wave. “Dottie and Lindsay, I owe you one. I didn’t think this girl was going to show.”

“She can be a beast at times, but whenever you need something, just let us know, we can convince her,” Dottie says.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Do you care if I steal your girl?”

“Have at it.” Dottie ushers us away.

“Thanks, ladies, enjoy yourselves.” Before Emory can protest, I take her hand in mine and lead her to the kitchen, where I ask one of the freshmen to grab me two beers and the Oreos I stuffed away. The dutiful teammate he is, he fetches them in an instant, and I take Emory to the window that leads to the fire escape.

“Uh, where do you think you’re taking me?”

“It’s either this or my bedroom. Take your pick, because I want you alone.”

She pulls her hand away from me and folds her arms over her chest, her bare shoulders enticing me more than they should. “Who’s to say I want to be alone with you?”

“Me. That’s who. Now stop being stubborn and follow me. I promise a good time.”

“As long as you keep your hands to yourself.”

I scoff. “I’m a southern gentleman if anything, Em.”

When I link her hand in mine and she allows it, I assume earning some private time with her is a go.

I help her out of the window and up the fire escape a few stairs away from the window so we can actually hear each other. Thankfully, I put a blanket out here just in case she decided to show up and I lay it on the metal stairs before we take a seat. We sit side by side, not shoved too close together thanks to the spacious fire escape—rare, I know—but close enough where our knees knock together. I set the beers behind us and hold out the Oreos. She eyes them for a second with a sly smile before popping open the resealable top. Her delicate fingers pull one out and instead of eating it right away, she holds it out.

Looking up at me, head slightly tilted, she says, “Grab the other side and twist. Whoever gets the most cream, gets to ask the other a question.”

That’s my kind of game. What do I want to know about this girl? I start conjuring up all the questions I have about her.

Tell me more about this douche ex-boyfriend.

What’s your favorite sexual position?

Are you in favor of me sucking on your tits tonight?

Hmm . . . might be too presumptuous.

“What kind of questions? Anything we want to ask? Does the other person have to answer?”

“Sure.” She shrugs. “I don’t have much to hide.”

“Much, huh? So, there are some things you care to hide?”

“Stuff you’ll never guess, so we’re safe.” She nods at the cookie. “You in?”

“Hell yeah.” I grip the other side and count, “One, two, three, twist.”

We both twist and pull apart. I look down at my empty black cookie and then at the sly smile crossing Emory’s face, who’s wiggling her cookie at me. Damn, she’s cute.

She pops the whole thing in her mouth and chews while she leans back on the stairs, giving me the perfect view of her smooth stomach and perfectly proportioned breasts.

Full B-cup, easily.

“How many girls have you brought out on the fire escape, Knox?”

Her question comes out low, seductive, and instead of answering right away, I’m staring. Staring at her perfectly glossed lips, so full, bigger than I remember. She can do some wicked things with those lips, things I want to experience.

“How many? Hmm, let me see.” I chew on my half of the cookie and start counting on my fingers. “There was Victoria, Kristi, Tiffany, Sarah, Franci, Heather . . . Logan, but that was a short questioning phase my freshman year. Then Lynn, Gina, Marina—oof.” Emory playfully whacks me in the stomach and then starts to get up. I pull her back down, laughing. “Stop. I’ve never brought anyone out here before. Believe it or not, I’m not the huge player you think I am.”