Redemption (Cambria University #2)
Page 6
I decide to text Kali.
“Miss your face, loser.”
And I do… I really, really do.
✽✽✽
I get to Carriage Hall, where my English classes will be. After surviving my curriculum class, I’m looking forward to English Lit. This upper level course focuses on “the romantic movement” of literature. I’m anticipating reading the Brontë sisters or Jane Austen. I am so glad I was able to take this course.
The desks are divided into three sections, lower in front and climbing higher in back. I grab a seat in the middle, close to the aisle, a few rows from the front of the room. I don’t know a single person here. The English majors have clearly all had classes together for two years now, and all know each other. They’re chit-chatting about their summers while I sit and stare at them. I’m hoping to meet a few new people today. That was my goal.
I hear a ruckus in the hall and of course, why wouldn’t some of the baseball players I’ve met be taking English Lit? Finn and Stoner smile and nod at me, but sit up in the top row with some other guys who look like athletes.
The other guys sitting up there don’t look like Finn and Logan. One is so tall his legs don’t fit under this desk, and one is louder, cockier and very muscular. He looks manlier than Finn and Stoner. I don’t think either of them are baseball players.
I glance their way, hoping for… what? Some attention because I am sitting here alone? Yes, that’s exactly it.
As I do, my eyes lock on the most virile man sitting up there. Thick and cut. Oh. Em. Gee. He’s one of the most handsome and unique looking men I have ever seen. So different from the West Coast boys I grew up, with his broad shoulders and barrel chest. He’s definitely not long and lean like the surfer boys back home.
His long dark brown hair is pulled up into a tight man bun, exposing the shaved sides, and his chiseled facial features resemble a Greek god. Square jaw with dark scruff, Cupid’s bow lips, and high cheekbones. Just absolute perfection.
His skin has a creamy glow to it – no tan on this boy. His biceps are stretching the limits of his t-shirt and the veins in his arms are protruding under his tattoos, making it look like they’re dancing on his skin. He’s wearing linen pants that don’t leave a lot to the imagination. They’re loose, but clingy in all the right places.
Out of all those picture-perfect features, it’s his emerald eyes that do me in. When they meet my sapphires, a shiver runs through my body. What is this guy doing to me? He is sex on stick and he knows it.
The casual way he’s leaning back in chair, one arm wrapped around the back of the chair next to his, a flawless, carefree smile, eyes shining and intense, twitching jaw muscles as he glances at the girls around him, causing them to shift in their seats… He has an arrogance about him that I’m immediately drawn to, and I need to get back to my senses. Bad boys are not my thing.
As the room continues to fill up, the guys begin hitting on a group of girls who are wearing tight mini-dresses and high heels. I’ve made dresses like that for some of my friends to wear clubbing, but who the hell wears them to class? I try not to gawk at the situation behind me, but the giggling is too tempting to avoid. I discreetly shift my gaze to the rows up and to my right, where the boys are parked.
They’re flirting shamelessly, and the girls are blushing and giggling right along while Mr. Emerald Eyes sits back, exuding nothing but an unadulterated confidence. Sure enough, after a couple of minutes the girls’ attention shifts from Finn and his buddies to him. He narrows his gaze toward the front of the room and occasionally nods his head without fully committing his attention to them. He doesn’t seem impressed by their nails clawing at his chest, but he also seems to not have to give a damn about anything.
“Starting my very first class. Hope SDSU is amazing,” I text Kali quickly before Dr. Isabel Winters starts her lecture. Her lit class is hailed as one of the best on campus, according to online reviews. I’m excited I got in, so I push aside my feelings of doubt for moving all the way across the country and remember why I’m here.
Dr. Winters is classy. She has on a navy-blue pinstripe pantsuit, a la Leslie Knope, and her brown hair is cut into a perfect bob. She proceeds to discuss the syllabus for the semester. “This class is an excuse to read my favorite authors,” she announces. “I can do that with tenure. So, we’ll be covering authors from both British and American literature, whose works have been deemed romantic, in a sense.”
Easy-peasy. She passes out a study group sign-up sheet because “we will need it.” It’s not a promising sign when your professor assumes you will need help on the first day. It makes me nervous, so I fill out my name, phone number, and email address with the rest of the class. I wonder what Mr. Emerald Eyes’ name is.
“Okay, next, assessment test,” Dr. Winters bellows and holds up a stack of papers. There’s an audible groan from the peanut gallery up top.
The test has five short essay questions and was really easy. It is basically just to gauge if we’ve read any of the books we will discuss this semester. After the test, I’m feeling much better. I’ve read all the books we’re covering.
“You’ll get the results back in a couple weeks. If you do not pass, I would highly suggest lining up a tutor for the semester right away and making every effort to attend the Wednesday evening study group. Boys,” she draws attention to Finn’s group, “I’m looking at you. The midterm is in October and will cover a lot of information. Have a great day.” With that, Dr. Winters finishes and dismisses us.
As I pack my backpack, I glance nonchalantly back up to the top row. Not that he even knows I exist at this point, and I don’t know why I want him to. He seems… occupied as a redhead rubs her hands over his chest. Although, he doesn’t give her any sort of acknowledgment.
Chapter 8: Donovan
I’m lying in bed looking at the ceiling because I don’t want to go to class. I’m a senior with a light schedule during football season. I’m taking just enough credits to be a full time student, so I only have one class on Monday, Wednesday and Friday – English Literature. Fucking painful. Tuesdays and Thursdays I have three classes, but they’re fluff.
I finally roll my ass out of bed just for the sole purpose of checking out the new freshmen asses around campus this year.
After a quick shower, I throw on khaki linen pants and roll the cuffs, a V-neck t-shirt, and white Adidas original Superstars. I put my hair into a man bun to keep it out of my face. I have just enough scruff on my face to look rugged. There won’t be a dry seat in the house. A few squirts of my Burberry cologne and I check myself in my mirror one last time. I’m ready for my first day of school, Mom. Not that she would notice. She hasn’t been around for my first day of school since first grade.
I’m a business/finance major, but unfortunately for me and my busted give-a-damn I didn’t take some of my core classes until now. I have to take a physical education elective (hello, badminton) and an upper-level English class. FML. I was told that Dr. Winters loves athletes and that I would get a B just for showing up, but could up that to an A if I visit her during her office hours. And that was true, until she got caught fucking a tennis player in her office. The administration didn’t fire her, but they’re reviewing her grades all semester, so she can’t trade grades to get into athletes' pants anymore. So now I’m stuck with romance and damsels and stupid words like thither and heretofore. I rake my hands over my face as I think about it. Fuck me. I’m going to fail, and then I’ll be benched for my senior season.
I hop in my blacked-out Chevrolet Silverado with gold trim – black and gold because the Golden Knights’ colors are black and gold. I love this school and my team – they’re family. That’s why I have a massive knight tattooed on my arm. I throw on my Ray-Ban sunglasses, roll the windows down and take off toward campus, where I drive through the gates and stone archway toward the student parking lot. Campus is crazy busy with students wandering to and from classes. I stop in The Castle for a coffee at Gypsy Juice
before heading to Carriage Hall for class.
“Blake! What’s up, fucker?” Pauly Sims throws up a high five and we hug it out.
“Not much, man. Just grabbing a coffee before class.”
“How’s the squad?”
“Meh. We’ll be okay. Nothing like last year, but how many teams lose their All-American QB and win it all again?” I lie. I think we’re gonna be fucking terrible unless little Jax can step up. Our defense will shut teams down, but if we have to score too, we’re fucked. As a captain though, I can’t let people know my true feelings.
“None. That sucks bro. But we still got PiKap parties, yeah?”
“For sure, man. How about you guys?”
“Meh too. We got some work to do, but we’ll be better than last season. Need some pitching like always. I’ll catch ya around.”
“Later.” I turn to face four Tri-Delta chicks staring at me. Big hair, big makeup, big tits. Yes, please. They’re just waiting for an invite. I nod and they rush over, hands groping and stroking as we head for the Quad.
As we walk further, some of the girls detach and head to their own classes. My boys and I are practically celebrities on campus, especially after last year. We were well known and well respected before we won the title. Now it’s off the fucking charts. As I make my way to class, several people stop to say hi and ask about the team. We’re gonna suck balls this year, thanks for asking. A cute blond girl with a pixie cut strolls up and I feel like I should know her. She eyes the two girls clinging to my arms, smiles, raises an eyebrow.
“Hey, sexy,” she says and latches onto my arm, boxing out one of the girls already there. Her nails are rubbing up and down my tattoos. “These are hot.”
“Hey—” I pause.
“Trinity,” she huffs as if I should know her.
“Right. What’s up, Trinity?”
“Just wondering what you’re up to and if you want to hook up later.” She smiles coyly and flutters her lashes. Thing 1 and Thing 2 on my arms are seething. I can hear them mocking her question and I look down to see them glaring daggers at her. Trinity is a bold one.
“Yeah, maybe. Depends on what we got after practice. I gotta run to class, Tara, later,” I say and take off.
“It’s fucking Trinity!” she shouts.
“It might be fucking Trinity later,” I shout but keep walking without looking back. I know she’s watching me walk away. The girls on my arms are still fuming, but they don’t say anything. I know they’re plotting. Supply and demand, ladies. Basic econ.
We walk into English Lit and thank fuck there are a few other athletes in here. Finn and Stoner are here, Braxton, and Zuccarello, our backup quarterback. There are a bunch of super enlightened English majors here, and four girls from sorority row are also taking this class. They are looking exceptionally slutted up today for the first day of school.
“Ladies.” I nod to the two who were here before me. They’re glaring at Thing 1 and Thing 2, who sit beside me. “What’s up, fellas? Why are you in hell with me?” I give bro hugs all around. I haven’t seen these guys since last semester, except for Zucc.
“Same reason you are. Needed the credit and Dr. Winters was supposed to be easy. Fucking stupid,” Braxton whines and shakes his head. “How does she get busted fucking a kid last semester? She’s been doing it for years. I’m cursed.”
We all laughed. But he’s right. The timing is fucking awful. I sit back and throw my arms around the back of the chairs of Thing 1 and Thing 2.
“How’s the squad looking?” Stoner asks.
“Decent,” I lie again. “New QB is no Mac. That motherfucker was special and this kid, meh.”
“What the fuck, man?” Zucc says cuz I’m talking about the new guy as if he already has a starting spot.
“Let’s be real, Zucc. I love you, but it ain’t happening. Just keep fucking jersey chasers and enjoy the ride.” He shrugs. He knows I’m right.
“Speaking of fucking. Bro, check this new chick out.” Finn nods towards a chick with black hair a few rows away, sitting alone. “She’s hot as fuck. I’ve seriously never seen a hotter chick in all my life. And she threw some mad shade at Gomez today at Gypsy Juice. Called him a proctologist and told him he had his head up his ass. I think I’m in love.” He laughs, but I think he may be half-serious.
“Who is she?” I ask, trying to sound uninterested, but his words have my interest piqued. As I’m looking at the back of her head she turns around as if she can feel us staring. Holy fuck-me eyes. Her eyes are cobalt blue, which pop against her tan skin. No, her skin is golden, unlike the jersey chasers on this campus who are practically orange from over-tanning. Her raven hair is long and thick, which makes her eyes standout even more. She has high-cut cheekbones, full lips and a perfectly symmetrical face. She should be a model. I’ve had my fair share of gorgeous women, but I’ve never seen anyone so beautiful. My cock twitches in my pants when our eyes meet.
“Her name is Maisy. That is pretty much all we got out of her. That face though. Fucking gorgeous. I’ve never stared at a girl’s face before, but I couldn’t fucking tear my eyes off of her. I thought Logan was gonna come in his pants when we helped move her in. I invited her to the Pi Kappa party, but she seemed completely uninterested,” Finn continues.
“She shot down the Pi Kappa invite? That’s cold, bro,” Braxton laughs and seems completely amused by the idea of a girl being uninterested in hanging out with us athletes.
“Yeah, that’s a first,” Zucc chimes in.
“You helped move her in?” I question. “Why would anyone do that voluntarily?”
“Because she’s hot as fuck and smart as a whip. I’m fucking hooked. I want in that soon. So does Logan,” Finn replies.
“We’ll see who gets to her first,” Stoner cuts in. I sit back and listen as these assholes banter back and forth over what they want to do to her and how they’re going to accomplish it. The sorority sisters are back to fuming and start pawing at me because they’re being ignored, but I continue to disregard them, concentrating my attention toward the front of the room as Maisy continues to stare. This chick is ruining their chances without even trying, and these dudes are working themselves up over nothing. If I wanted her, they wouldn’t stand a chance. Yeah, keep telling yourself that. The way she just looked at me, I bet I could fuck her before they even got her on a date. Light bulb.
“Is that a challenge?” I ask as a sly grin creeps across my face. I just had a genius idea. I need something to occupy my time, and a reason to make this class interesting for an entire semester.
“What?” Finn looks at me quizzically.
“A challenge. A bet. A gentleman’s wager. Whatever the fuck you want to call it. I bet I can get her in my bed before any of you. You can name the terms.” I look back to Finn and raise my eyebrow to him in absolute confidence.
“Nope. I’m out. I can’t bet on a chick like that,” Zucc says. “I have a conscience.”
“Fucking pansy. That’s why you’ll never be a starter. Zero balls,” I quip.
Finn looks at Stoner who shrugs but appears interested. “I’m in. You name the terms. This is your stupid idea.”
“She knows us. You’re already losing, Blake,” Stoner laughs.
“First one to bag her. Need to have some kind of proof. Photo, video, whatever. Something with her face in it. Can’t fuck someone else and pretend it’s her. If I win, you’re my bitch until graduation. Whatever I say you do at any time. One in the morning and I need my nuts scratched, you come scratch them.”
“You’re fucking sick.” Finn shakes his head. Yeah, I know. I’m also angry and broken and I like making people miserable because I am.
“What do I get when I win?” he finally asks after a long pause.
I think for a minute. Finn is a good dude, but I know he comes from a large family and doesn’t have a lot of money, but I don’t think he’s here on a scholarship. “I’ll pay your student loans.”
His face pales. “Bro
, I have a partial athletic scholarship and I’ll still have a hundred and sixty k in loans. That’s fucking insane.”
“So, you gonna bitch out?” I shrug and look away from him, feigning boredom. Only $160,000. I thought it would be way more. This bet seems to be in my favor.
“No fucking way! I’m 100 percent in. But,” Finn pauses in thought. “I’m with Zucc. I can’t bag a chick for a bet, I have a heart. Unlike you. She’s a pretty cool chick, but that doesn’t mean I can’t get behind you trying, and failing, to do it. And, you have to do it by my deadline. Sixty days. You have until Halloween or I win. Plus, we’ll be working against you. Logan is already scheming, and you know the ladies can’t resist his southern ass.”
Sixty days? Is he kidding? I meet girls and bag them the same night most of the time. Half the time I don’t even get their name first. Maisy doesn’t give off the jersey chaser vibe, but she’s still a chick and I know what chicks like – me.
“Deal. You can run a counter game, but there’s no telling her about the bet to win.”
“Totally fine. She was already drooling over Logan this morning.” He holds out his hand as he laughs. Johnny Logan is going to be some decent competition. He’s the best-looking baseball player on this campus, plus he’s southern and smooth with the ladies. Fuck it. It’s only money and I have plenty of that. It would be so worth it to make Finn my bitch.
We shake on it. Little Maisy has no idea what is about to rain down on her pretty little head.
Dr. Winters yaps on and on about the semester and some stupid-ass books we have to read. One word. CliffsNotes. I’ll be fine. I fill out the study group form, but write down a fake phone number. I want nothing to do with this shit, and I don’t want some ugly hipster chick having my phone number.
“Okay, next, assessment test.” Dr. Winters smiles and waves some papers around. She gives paper tests and quizzes because she’s old school. She says she loves the smell of pencils and paper off the copier. I’m so incredibly fucked.