The Locker Room(5)
“As far as you know,” Knox replies, with a wiggle of his eyebrow. “They did enjoy showing off their dirty hemlines.”
I’m about to counter with a serious tongue-lashing when the professor walks in and drops his suitcase on his desk, sounding off a loud pop in the small lecture hall.
“Developmentally effective learning environments, that’s the class. Get out if you’re in the wrong place. I’ll give you ten seconds.” He holds out his wrist and stares down at it.
Yikes.
“This should be a fun class,” Knox grumbles under his breath while shifting in his seat.
At least we can agree on that.
“He was a fucking whack job,” Knox says as we step into the fresh air.
“Yeah, the fact that he was sneering at us the whole time doesn’t bode well for us,” Carson says before taking a sip from his water bottle. “I’m heading to the gym. What about you two?”
“Gym,” Holt answers, still plugged into his phone.
“I’m grabbing something to eat,” Knox says and turns toward me. “Want to come?”
“To get something to eat?”
“Yeah. Food. Are you hungry?”
Am I hungry? Yes, it’s lunchtime, and if I don’t eat my meals I grow fangs and get real nasty, but do I really want to eat with Knox? It’s bad enough he was writing notes to me on his computer, continually pointing at the screen during class, so I don’t know if I should spend more time with this guy.
His notes to me were simple: see that kid in the red, third row up? He’s a Rubik’s cube genius, and, girl two seats in front of you keeps giving you the stink eye.
And this professor has the sweatiest armpits I’ve ever seen.
I might have laughed at that one.
“Look at her trying to decide,” Carson says, calling me out. “She’s unsure, man, so you need to convince her.”
“Yeah, show her why your company is worth her time,” Holt says, pocketing his phone and looking at me for the first time.
Squaring his shoulders, Knox gives me a once-over and says, “What do you need to know? Name it.”
Uh, I wasn’t expecting an inquisition for a ticket to lunch, nor was I expecting an invitation at all.
“He’s the cleanest in the loft,” Carson says, sticking up for his friend.
“Cooks the best steak on the team,” Holt adds.
“He also can dance like a two-year-old.”
Knox’s face scrunches. “Fuck you. I dance like a goddamn king.”
Holt points at Knox’s hips. “Great pelvic action.”
“Knows how to work his hands.”
“Can’t sing worth a damn, but loves to sing anyway.”
“Sleeps in matching pajama sets.”
“No, I fucking don’t,” Knox says quickly and then shakes his head at me. “I sleep in boxer briefs.”
“Give him a chance, and he’ll pay for your lunch. He has an unlimited dining card,” Carson says, really trying to show up his friend.
“And he knows people, so he always ends up getting free dessert.”
“It’s true,” Knox says, with a shy smile.
They drive a hard bargain, but there is no way I can eat lunch with this man. Not when I can barely look him in the eye after what happened on Saturday. It’s bad enough I have a class with him. It almost sounds as though his friends are trying to sell him to me, as if they think I’m deciding whether to date him or not. And that would be a big no, given I just got out of a relationship and am not looking for another.
I shift my bag on my shoulder and pull out Pride and Prejudice. I clutch the classic to my chest and say, “Sorry, I have a date with Mr. Darcy. I’ll catch you later.”
I spin around and start walking away just as Carson and Holt make a raucous sound due to my dismissal.
From behind me, Knox calls out, “Hey.”
When I turn around, I find him standing there proudly, hands clipped to the straps of his backpack, a lift to his chin, and a devastating smile on his face. He’s not affected one bit from my brush-off. “Darcy is a tool. Want a real hero? You know where to find me.” Cocky ass.
I can’t help the lift of the corner of my mouth as I turn around and continue walking away, unsure where I’m going, just trying to get as far away from Knox Gentry as possible. He’s obnoxious, opinionated, and very much the typical jock. He called Jane and Lizzie harlots. There will be no friendship between Mr. Gentry and me. Mark my words.
Chapter Two
EMORY
“Are you almost done in there?” Dottie calls out from the common area. “The food is here.”
“One second,” I say as I finish reading the last paragraph of my early childhood and development chapters.
Lying on my stomach on my bed, I move my finger along the last few words in my book and then snap it shut. I’m starving but swore to myself I wouldn’t leave the bed until I finished my reading, even if my stomach was growling out the lyrics to the alma mater.
Dressed in my matching silk shorts and top—it’s the only bedwear I enjoy—I pin my long brown hair to the top of my head and make my way to where Dottie and Lindsay are waiting, Thai food spread across the coffee table.