The Deal(19)

“You should really watch where you’re going,” a husky voice remarks.

My heart stops.

Justin’s dark eyes twinkle with humor as he places his hand on my arm to steady me. The moment he touches me, heat sears my flesh and unleashes a flurry of goose bumps.

“Sorry,” I stammer.

“No worries.” Smiling, he pats his chest down. “I’m still in one piece.”

I suddenly notice that there’s no one waiting to use the washroom anymore. It’s just Justin and me in the hallway, and God, he’s even better looking close up. He’s also much taller than I realized—I have to tilt my head to meet his eyes.

“You’re in Ethics with me, aren’t you?” he asks in that deep, sexy voice of his.

I nod.

“I’m Justin.”

He introduces himself as if there might actually be someone at Briar who doesn’t know his name. But I find his modesty is adorable.

“I’m Hannah.”

“How’d you do on the midterm?”

“I got an A,” I admit. “You?”

“B minus.”

I can’t hide my surprise. “Really? I guess we’re the lucky ones, then. Everyone else bombed it.”

“I think it makes us smart, not lucky.”

His grin makes me melt. Seriously. I’m a puddle of goo on the floor, unable to look away from those magnetic dark eyes. And he smells fantastic, like soap and lemony aftershave. Would it be inappropriate if I pressed my face in his neck and inhaled him?

Uh…yeah. It would.

“So…” I try to think of something clever or interesting to say, but I’m too nervous to be witty at the moment. “You play football, huh?”

He nods. “Wide receiver. Are you a fan?” A dimple appears in his chin. “Of the game, I mean.”

I’m not, but I suppose I could lie and pretend to like his sport. Except that’s a risky move, because then he might try to talk “shop” with me, and I don’t know enough about football to carry a whole conversation about it.

“Not really,” I confess with a sigh. “I’ve seen a game or two, but honestly, it’s too slow for my liking. Seems like you guys play for five seconds, and then someone blows a whistle and you stand around for hours before the next play starts.”

Justin laughs. He’s got a great laugh. Low and husky and I feel it right down to my toes. “Yeah, I’ve heard that complaint before. It’s different when you’re playing it, though. A lot more intense than you’d think. And if you’re invested in a team or certain players, you pick up the rules a lot faster.” He slants his head. “You should come to one of our games. I bet you’d have fun.”

Holy shit. He’s inviting me to one of his games?

“Uh, yeah, maybe I will—”

“Kohl!” a loud voice interrupts. “We’re up!”

We both turn as a blond behemoth pokes his head out of the living room doorway. It’s one of Justin’s teammates, and he’s wearing a look of extreme impatience.

“Coming,” Justin calls back, then gives me a rueful smile as he takes a step toward the bathroom. “Big Joe and I are about to kick some ass in pool, but I’ve gotta hit the can first. Talk later?”

“Sure.” I keep my tone casual, but there’s nothing casual about the way my heart is racing.

As Justin shuts the door behind him, I hurry back to the living room on shaky legs. I’m dying to tell Allie about what just happened, but I don’t get the chance. The second I walk into the room, six-foot-two and two hundred pounds of Garrett Graham block my path.

“Wellsy,” he says cheerfully. “You’re the last person I expected to see here tonight.”

As usual, his presence causes my guard to snap into place. “Yeah? Why’s that?”

He shrugs. “I didn’t think frat parties were your scene.”

“Well, you don’t know me, remember? Maybe I’m partying it up on Greek Row every night.”

“Liar. I would’ve seen you here before.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, a pose that causes his biceps to flex. I glimpse the bottom of a tattoo peeking out from his sleeve, but I can’t tell what it is, only that it’s black and looks intricate. Flames maybe?

“So, about this tutoring thing… I thought we should take a moment to set up a schedule.”