I Dare You (The Hook Up #1)(19)

I’m about to turn and come down when two guys come up the stairs and onto the third floor, the echoes of their hushed voices carrying across to me. My heart leaps—damn heart—when I see Maverick walking next to Ryker, Waylon’s quarterback.

Maverick’s eyes look up and capture mine—he must have some kind of secret power that detects female attention—and takes me in, hovering above the shelf like a crazy person. He sends me a wave and I smirk.

Ryker taps him on the shoulder to pull his direction toward one of the study areas to the left, but Maverick nods his head at me and walks in my direction. Ryker follows.

Shit! They’re coming over.

My hair’s in a ponytail and my glasses askew, and I hurriedly pat down the crazy stray strands and straighten my frames. I wish I had time to grab my lipstick, but of course, it’s in my purse on the first floor.

“Hey,” Maverick says as he turns the corner. He’s holding a book and smiling, looking pleased as punch to see me, and it takes my breath a little.

I blink up at him, taking in the finely carved jawline and bitable lips.

Just. Damn.

He’s gorgeous and it pisses me off that it makes me melt into a puddle of goo.

I stuff that behind me and give him a nonchalant shrug, keeping my expression easy and not at all like I didn’t nearly break my neck getting off the ladder. “Hey.”

“You working?”

“Obviously.”

His lips twitch. “You sound excited.”

“I’m not. What are you doing here?” I ask.

“Just roaming the library.”

“Why?”

He tilts his head, studying me. “Why not?”

“It’s a bit late for mind games, Maverick.” I look down at the cart full of books I still have to shelve. “And I have work to do.”

“Maybe I was looking for you. I can help if you want?”

My eyes flare. Damn. Why does he have to be so sweet sometimes? “That’s okay.”

He gazes around at the shelving, taking in the empty tables and then focuses back on me. “This would be a great place to hook-up. Ever consider it?”

I roll my eyes. “Scoping out future make-out places? Please, for the sake of the books, leave the library out of your pound town itinerary.”

He throws up a cocky eyebrow. “I like the dim lighting and all the shelves. Good coverage in case someone comes up.”

My face colors, picturing him with some pretty co-ed.

He grins. “Would you be jealous if I hooked up with someone here?”

“No, don’t be ridiculous,” I say. Yes.

He studies me, eyes at half-mast. “Okay, fine, Delaney. I’ll never hook-up with anyone in the library…unless it’s you.”

My mouth opens and I’m about to say something really witty and smart—although I can’t think of a damn thing—when Ryker turns the corner. I guess something must have caught his eye on the way over and that’s why he lagged behind.

Obviously, Maverick has impeccable timing.

The quarterback gives me a nod. “Ah, Delaney. Surprise, surprise.”

Is he being facetious?

Because he doesn’t sound surprised. He sounds cryptic and a little pleased with himself if that makes sense. I squint at him, reminding myself to play back this conversation later.

“Hey, Ryker,” I say, giving him a nod. “We rarely get people on the third floor, so…welcome?” I hold my hands out.

Ryker looks around. “Yeah. It’s dead up here. Great place for a hook-up.”

I shake my head. “Oh my God. Is that all guys think about?”

“Yeah,” they say in unison.

“Typical,” I say with a laugh.

Almost as if he knows I’m putting up my internal defenses against him, Maverick takes a step closer and picks at a spot on the shoulder of my black shirt. Butterflies take off inside me as his index finger and thumb press together on the fabric to grab a white hair.

“What’s this?” he asks.

Swallowing, I look down at his hand and clear my throat. “Cat hair. I got in the kitten tent today at the shelter and they crawled all over me. Super adorable. I’d love to bring one home but Han would flip his lid.”

Ryker takes a full two steps back from me, his eyes wide. “You rolled around with cats?”

“Well, not literally, but yeah. It’s very therapeutic. Are you allergic?”

He nods.

“That’s awful.” I grimace.

He waves me off. “No worries. I’ll just stand over here so I don’t breathe it in. That way you guys can chat.” He finds a spot about ten feet away and pretends to look at a book. I say pretend because it’s a reference book about rivers in South America and I can’t imagine why he’d be interested, but who knows.

It’s almost as if they planned on seeing me…

I turn back to Maverick who hasn’t taken his eyes off me. “I’m completely non-allergic to cats,” he tells me.

“Why should I care?” I’m being bratty, but his cockiness brings it out in me.

He isn’t fazed and plucks another hair off me, this time around the neckline of my shirt. His fingers brush my collarbone and I inhale sharply, remembering the texting convo about collarbones with He-Man. “You’re really covered in these.” My chest rises rapidly, and he grins, leaving me convinced the man is the devil.