The Score (Off-Campus #3)(32)

With a growl, I snatch the remote control and hit stop.

“Hey, it’s not over yet,” she objects.

“Allie.” I draw a steady breath. “We need to stop now. Before my balls disappear altogether and my man-card is revoked.”

One blond eyebrow flicks up. “Who has the power to revoke it?”

“I don’t know. The Man Council. The Stonemasons. Jason Statham. Take your pick.”

“So you’re too much of a manly man to watch a French soap opera?”

“Yes.” I chug the rest of my margarita, but the salty flavor is another reminder of how low I’ve sunk. “Jesus Christ. And I’m drinking margaritas. You’re bad for my rep, baby doll.” I shoot her a warning look. “Nobody can ever know about this.”

“Ha. I’m going to post it all over the Internet. Guess what, folks—Dean Sebastian Kendrick Heyward-Di Laurentis is over at my place right now watching soaps and drinking girly drinks.” She sticks her tongue out at me. “You’ll never get laid again.”

She’s right about that. “Can you at least add that the night ended with a blowjob?” I grumble. “Because then everyone will be like, oh, he suffered through all that so he could get his pole waxed.”

“Your pole waxed? That’s such a gross description.” But her eyes are bright and she’s laughing as she says it.

Christ, she’s so pretty. And sexy…so goddamn sexy. I wonder why I never noticed it before, but I guess it’s because every time I saw her prior to Friday night, she was glued to her boyfriend’s side.

The moment I think about Allie’s ex, her phone buzzes. Speak of the devil.

“What does he want now?” I have trouble hiding my irritation, but she’s too distracted by the text message to notice.

She tilts the screen toward me, and my annoyance grows. So can we meet up 4 coffee? it says. I really need 2 talk 2 u.

“Say no,” I advise.

Her teeth dig into her bottom lip. “It’s…hard.”

“You have no problem saying no to me.”

“I didn’t date you for three years,” she points out.

I gently take the phone from her hand and set it on the table. “Okay. You ready for some real talk?”

She nods shakily.

“Sean is going to keep texting you. He’s going to keep emailing and calling and doing everything in his power to win you back. You want to know why? Because you’re smart and funny and smoking hot, and he knows he’s a total idiot for letting you go.”

Surprise fills her eyes.

“He’s going to keep at it. Which means you need to learn to ignore it.” I study her face. “That is, if you’re serious about moving on.”

She nods again, resolute this time. “I am.”

“Then move the fuck on, babe. You can’t run to your friend’s boyfriend’s house or hide out in the dorm every night. Tell the guy you don’t want to talk to him, and then go out and find yourself some distractions. I can help you, if you want.”

“Let me guess,” she says dryly “You volunteer as sexual tribute?”

“Nope. For once, I’m not talking about sex.”

“What do you suggest then?”

I grin. “I think you need to live the Life of Dean.”

“Huh. Okay. So I should throw on some hockey pads, let a bunch of behemoths smash me into the boards every night, and reward myself with a never-ending string of casual sexual encounters. Got it.”

I lean in and tug a strand of her hair. “Don’t be an ass.”

“My apologies.” She smiles. “Please, tell me more about the Life of Dean.”

My hand travels across her smooth cheek to grasp her chin. “Look at me, Allie-Cat. Does it look like I have many problems? Are you ever going to find me moping in my room or stressing out about trivial bullshit?”

“No,” she says slowly.

“I’m an overall happy person, right?”

Her suspicious gaze locks with mine. “Yes. But how is that even possible? Nobody is happy all the time.”

“It’s absolutely possible.” I rub my thumb over her lower lip. Her lips are so fucking soft. I’m dying to kiss them again. “You want to know my secret?”

“Mmmm?” She sounds distracted. I stroke her lips again, and I’m gratified when her breath hitches.

“I do what I want, when I want it. And I don’t give a shit what other people think about me.”

That gets her attention. “Sounds nice, being able to do what you want all the time. Sadly, that’s not how life works.”

“You make life work for you, babe.” My fingers travel down her slender throat, skimming over her pulse point. “What do you want, Allie? Tell me one thing you’ve been dying to do but haven’t gotten around to doing.”

Her forehead furrows as she thinks it over. “Well. I’ve been wanting to start a new cleanse, but I keep putting it off.”

“I have no idea what that means.”

“I go on these juice cleanses a couple times a year,” she explains. “It sucks, because you’re stuck on a liquid diet for two whole weeks, but you feel so much better afterward.”

“You’re a fucking weirdo. Pick something else. Something normal.”