The Locker Room(26)
Like I just burned her with my nips, she whips her hand away and scolds me. “What are you doing here? Besides forcing me to grope you.”
“Hey, I wasn’t the one who squeezed, you were.”
“Involuntary reaction.”
“Sure.” I smirk and stick my hands in my pockets, closing in on her. “How’s the internship?”
She backs up against the bookcase—non-fiction in case you were wondering—hands behind her back, eyes slightly wider than normal. “Uh, it’s fine.”
“Is everyone being nice to you? If not, give me names, and I’ll have the boys take care of them.”
“I . . . I believe so,” she answers in a slight stutter, possibly from my proximity as I close in on her.
“If they weren’t, you would tell me, right?”
“I don’t see how any of that would be your business.”
“Ooo, you wound me, Em.” I fake being hurt, clutching my chest briefly. “Don’t you see, I consider you my business.”
“No need,” she says, growing a little taller, her confidence coming back in spades. She pats my chest. “I can handle myself, thank you very much.”
She starts to walk by me, but I stop her with my hand to her hip and speak close to her ear. “Why are you being difficult?”
“I didn’t think I was.”
“You barely talk to me in class, you sure as hell won’t go out to lunch with me. Can’t you see I’m interested?”
She takes that moment to look at me, her thick eyelashes blinking a few times. “If you were interested, then manhandling me in the library is not going to get you anywhere.”
“What does it take then?”
“To what?”
I lower my voice. “To get you to pay some attention to me.” Christ, I sound like a whiney asshole, but damn it . . . look at me, Emory.
Her face softens as she moves her hand to my cheek. “Oh, Knox, are you not getting enough attention?” Her voice is sarcastic, borderline patronizing and for some fucking reason, I like it.
“No.”
She chuckles. “Sorry to disappoint you.”
She goes to walk away again when I catch her by the wrist. “Let me take you out, on a date.”
“I’m good but thank you for asking.” Thank you for asking. I’m begging, Em. I take a deep breath as I look into her eyes. I honestly don’t think she’s trying to be a tease, but there has to be some way to reach her. For her to realize I’m serious. The truth. If I could get her to stop the sarcasm to just find the truth . . .
Still holding on to her wrist, I pull her farther back into the books where I press her against the wall and peer over my shoulder to make sure no one is looking. I bend so we are eye to eye, forcing her to not look away.
“Tell me you don’t have any sort of attraction to me. Tell me that right now and I’ll leave you alone.”
“Knox.” Her voice shakes as she glances over my shoulder. “If Mrs. Flower catches me back here with you she’s going to flip her shit.”
“Then answer the question . . . quickly. Tell me you’re not attracted to me.”
“That’s stupid.”
“Why, because you can’t?”
“You know I can’t,” she sighs in frustration. “Of course, I find you attractive, I would be blind and a liar to say I didn’t.”
“Then go out with me.”
“Doesn’t work like that. Just because I think a donut looks delicious, doesn’t mean I’m going to eat the whole thing.”
“What?” My brow furrows.
She rolls her eyes. “Just because I find you attractive does not mean I should go out with you.”
“Why the hell not? That seems like a perfectly good reason to go out with me.”
“Because, we’re on different playing fields, Knox. You like to party, and you have an extreme schedule, and you like to write notes during class—”
“That you like.”
“That’s beside the point. I’m here to learn, to get my degree, and then move on to my master’s. Studying is important to me, and because school doesn’t come easy, I really have to work twice as hard as the average student, and I’m not ashamed to say that. I think you’re hot, yes, and you’re funny and I could easily see myself getting wrapped up in your world, but I can’t, because that would pull me away from my goals. I was deterred once by a guy, and I don’t want it to happen again.”
“It won’t.”
Her lips thin. “It will. I know me and I know you well enough to understand how addicting your personality is.”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
“For a girl who can’t afford distractions, yeah.”
“Who’s to say I’ll distract you? I have a busy schedule like you pointed out.”
“Exactly.” She flings her arms out but keeps her voice low. “You’re going to be so busy I’ll spend my much-needed studying time wondering when I’m going to see you again, when you’re going to text me, if you’re going to call me that night.”
“I’d make you a priority.”
She scoffs and lowers her head. “No one has ever made me a priority, and not to sound like a bitch, but I don’t really believe you could actually do that. Not for me.”