Jock Rule (Jock Hard #2)(13)

Seconds pass and I bite down on my bottom lip. Where is he going?

It’s dark out, obviously, and the only thing in the yard is him, some trash, and a few cars parked along the curb.

Still, I haven’t gotten any creeper vibes from him; if anything, he’s been strangely…protective? Considering we don’t know each other whatsoever, it’s strange that the way my friends have been treating me lately seems to annoy him to no end.

So weird.

So…intriguing.

I hustle down the steps after him, trying not to trip and kill myself once I hit the bottom, my shoe catching on the lip of the concrete slab anyway. Thankfully, I keep my balance.

Look up, watching as he cuts across the grass, hands reaching for the hem of his black T-shirt, pulling the fabric up and over his long torso, presenting me with his bare back.

His toned, ripped back.

Muscles defined, his lattisimus dorsi is…

Is…

Um.

I try not to stare even though he can’t see me, afraid that when he does finally whip around, he’ll find my eyes molesting his front side the way they’re molesting his rhomboid and trapezius, and holy shit, I can’t believe I know what these muscles are actually called.

I also can’t believe how incredible his body is.

It flexes when he balls up his shirt, walking to a shiny, black, luxury SUV parked at the curb. Its headlights flash brightly when he hits the remote to unlock it, cab illuminating as his voice calls out, “Get in.”

Wow he’s bossy.

And yet, before I know it, I’m inside the lavish vehicle, buckling the seat belt over my soaking wet dress, eyes fixed straight ahead out the window, carefully avoiding the naked upper torso he’s strapped in on the driver’s side.

The engine roars to life, purring. “Where are we going?” I ask quickly.

A long stretch of silence follows as he hits his turn signal and eases into the street. “My place.”

What? No!

“To do what exactly?”

“Sleep?”

“No! No, it’s fine, really. Just take me to the dorms—I’m in the upperclassman apartments on McClintock.”

“I have a really nice place. You can crash with me. I really don’t give a shit.”

“I-I can’t do that. I thought maybe we were going for cheeseburgers or something.” God I’m an idiot.

“Why?” His face is contorted. “All we’re going to do is sleep.”

In the dark, I raise my brows. Yeah right, they say.

I’m almost insulted by his belted-out laughter. His cackle.

I cross my arms over my chest defensively. “What’s so funny?”

“You thinking I want to sleep with you.”

“I do not think that!” We both know I’m lying.

Another laugh. “Yes you do.” Pause. “Look, it’s fine—I’m not going to assault you or take advantage of you, trust me. I have zero interest in women, so your virtue is safe with me.”

“Oh,” I mutter. Then, “Ooohhhhhh!!!”

He gives me a sidelong glance and rolls his brown eyes, which are brightened by the street lights. “I’m not gay.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t sound so disappointed.”

Now it’s my turn to laugh. “Well then don’t announce it like that. Being gay isn’t a big deal—I wouldn’t care, and it wouldn’t surprise me if you were.”

“I know it’s not a big deal—but I’m not,” he grinds out through perfect teeth. “But I knew that was what you were thinking.”

“Fine. That’s totally what I was thinking.”

His grunt comes out of the dark, blinker for a right-hand turn ticking against the sudden quietness of the cab.

“How could you tell?”

“By the way you went Oohhh!!!” He mimics a high-pitched female voice so well my mouth curves into an amused grin. “All relieved and shit, like you just solved the freaking Pythagorean theorem.”

I shoot him an agitated look.

“It’s a math theory…”

“I know what the Pythagorean theorem is, thanks.”

You don’t earn a scholarship for engineering without adding numbers and knowing some basic geometry.

I might hate math, but I’m good at it, even though I still occasionally use fingers to do addition. Who doesn’t? I have zero shame, unless I’m sitting in front of my geometry professor. “Just so you know what you’re dealing with here. Don’t ever expect me to add my way out of a dangerous situation without a scientific calculator. We will both lose in a big way.”

“Seriously? Math is so easy, I can do that shit in my head. And all the Pythagorean theorem does is state that the square of the hypotenuse is equal to the sum of the squares of the other two sides and—”

“I know all this, jockstrap.” I hold a hand up. “Please just stop.”

I’ve had a few beers and don’t want to talk about classes right now, especially mathematics.

Quick, what’s fourteen plus thirty-seven? Answer: I have no damn idea, leave me alone.

“Do you want to stop by your place real quick and grab a change of clothes?”

I do a quick calculation of the odds I’ll run into Mariah and whoever it is she’s bringing home, figure it’ll be safe to dash in if I make it quick, and nod my head.