by Anna B. Doe
I’m not even sure how long we’re at it when Nix elbows me. “Hey.”
I lift my head, irritated at his interruption. Wasn’t he the one who suggested these twice a week study sessions at the library? Does he even know what studying entails? Peace and quiet so one can concentrate, for starters.
“What?” I grit.
“Isn’t that Cals?”
You’d think I have better control when it comes to that chick. Well, you’d be wrong. As soon as he asks the question, my head snaps in the direction he tilted his chin. My eyes already scanning the space for her.
And sure enough, hidden in the far corner is no other than Callie Stewart.
Fan-fucking-tastic.
Just what I needed.
I couldn’t get her out of my head after our little interaction in the dorm. Not only does she haunt my every waking moment, my mind always looking for her to pop out somewhere, but she started appearing in my dreams too. More like nightmares.
I try to tell myself it’s primal. Just my body’s reaction to being so close to her. She’s just one more in the long line of girls, but I know better and it’s pissing me off.
I want to groan, but know it would only get me in trouble with Mrs. Gibson so I bite my lip to hold it in.
That damn red ball cap is firmly placed on top of her head, blonde ponytail swaying softly as she moves her head from one side to the other, stretching her long neck.
My eyes stay glued to that soft patch of skin longer than necessary. It looks smooth and I can’t help but wonder how all that creamy skin would feel under my fingertips.
You will not touch her, I remind myself. You don’t want to touch her. Not even with a ten foot pole. Not even if the only thing that’s been going on repeat for days is the image of her pebbled nipples, the soft skin of her cleavage covered with lace, and the way those lips feel practically grazing mine. Nope, no way, no how.
I force myself to look away.
It should be easy, but it’s anything but.
“Seems like it,” I mutter, returning my gaze to my laptop where I started working on the essay for my business class. There is still time to finish it, but I want to get ahead of it before the football season gets even busier than it already is. However, the words on the screen are just a blur. My foot is tapping restlessly against the floor and I swear I can see a flash of blonde in the corner of my eyes. It’s calling to me like a beacon in the night.
“That liar,” Nixon whisper-yells from beside me.
“What?” I ask, although I’m not sure I want to know the answer to that.
“When I texted her about our study session, she said she’s busy.”
“You’re having study sessions? With her?”
“If she didn’t lie to me I would.”
“What the hell for?”
I can feel the guys around us starting to shift in their seats, our hushed discussion dragging their attention from studying. So much for these study sessions being useful and causing positive competition between teammates to motivate us to work harder. So far, the only thing we’ve done is piss off Mrs. G and cause drama.
“Are you serious? Have you heard my Spanish?”
“I can’t say I have.”
“Then consider yourself lucky.” Nix gets up. “I’m going to go talk to Stewart about her unsportsmanlike conduct.”
Not waiting for me to say anything, he walks toward Callie.
Gritting my teeth, I let my eyes scan the room, looking anywhere but the dark corner in which she’s hiding. Refusing to witness whatever’s happening between her and Nixon. Finally, my eyes land on the redhead once again.
She’s still looking at me. I’m not sure if she’s been doing it this whole time or if it was just a coincidence.
She tilts her head, her tongue darting out and swiping over her lip suggestively. Invitingly.
My dick stirs in my pants. Little movement, all the invitation he needs.
“I’m gonna go and grab a book,” I say to no one in particular as I get out of my chair.
The girl that’s been eye-fucking me since the moment we sat down lifts her gaze to meet mine. With the slight tilt of my head, I indicate for her to follow me.
A sly smile spreads over her lips.
I don’t wait to see if she follows. I know she will. And right now, that’s the only thing that matters. I’ll do everything I have to to push a certain someone out of my mind—and this redhead seems like a really good distraction.
Chapter Twenty-One
CALLIE
Somebody’s watching me. I can feel their gaze at the nape of my neck. It’s boring into me, burning my skin.
The need to turn around is overwhelming, but I don’t want to be too obvious. So instead I stretch, rubbing at the nape of my neck, and look over my shoulder just in time to see no other than Nixon walking toward me.
Fuck.
When he texted me earlier, I told him I was busy, and technically, I am.
The glare he shoots my way tells me he isn’t one bit understanding. There is a loud screeching sound as the chair is pushed back. My eyes dart toward the sound, and I don’t have to look too far to find the culprit.
He’s standing right there, just in the direction from which Nixon has come from, on the perfect line so they can see my little hiding spot.
Hayden.
So much for staying invisible.
At this point, I’m not even surprised anymore.
His tall frame lifts from the chair, towering well above everybody else and then he starts walking toward the shelves.
My gaze stays glued to his rigid back until I can’t see him anymore, and as I’m about to turn back my attention to the angry blue-eyed giant coming at me, a flash of red draws my attention.
A tall, curvy redhead lifts from her seat, she and her friends giggling as she goes to the bookshelves, entering the exact same row Hayden did.
Coincidence much?
Yeah right.
It’s none of your business, Callie, I tell myself. None of your goddamn business.
“Busy?” Nix stops in front of me, his arms crossed over his chest, biceps bulging.
I lift a copy of The Great Gatsby I’ve been reading for my English class. “As you can see, I’m deeply immersed in the fictional world of the 1920s.”
“And that’s more interesting than hanging out with me?”
He actually looks hurt by it, and suddenly I feel bad for brushing him off. I look around, anything not to see his puppy dog eyes. After a heartbeat, I realize where I’m looking at. That damn row where Hayden and the redhead disappeared to.
“Callie?”
I snap my attention back to Nix. “No, of course not. But I do have to finish reading this one for my class tomorrow. So rain check?”
“Can’t you read the summary on the internet or something?”
Incredulous, I look at him. Is he for real? “Do you actually, you know, pass your classes?”
He shrugs. “Sure. Just not Spanish. Why do you think I’ve been pushing it off? I really need your help, Callie. Mid-terms will be here in no time, and then I’m busted.”
“Fine, but tomorrow. Okay? I have to go and grab a book for an assignment and then finish reading this damn book.”
“Sure, but if you try to bail on me tomorrow, I’ll handcuff you to a chair or something.”
I can’t help the chuckle that escapes me. There is nobody like Nixon Cole, that’s for sure.
“Promises, promises,” I sing-song as I get to my feet. “I’ll see you tomorrow, kinky guy.”
“Tomorrow, Stewart.”
Trying to pretend to be as nonchalant as possible, I go toward the shelves.
My leg protests since I’ve been sitting for a while, but I don’t let it slow me down. Without leaving time to doubt and second guess myself, I turn into the first row of books.
I look over my shoulder, waiting for somebody to call me out, but there isn’t anybody. I know I shouldn’t be doing thi
s. At all. But the need to find out what Hayden is up to is stronger than me.
He wouldn’t… would he?
As I pass, I let my fingers trace over the spines of the books. The farther away I walk, the chillier the air gets. There are no windows back here, and the light is dim. The smell of old books and dust permeates the air.
A shiver runs through me, realization of what I’m about to do catching up to me.
It’s pathetic really.
He probably isn’t even here. For all I know, they returned back to the studying space. Hell, they probably weren’t even…
I don’t get to finish my thoughts because I hear a sound.
A low, moaning sound.
A sound that’s coming from way closer than I expect it to.
I gasp in surprise, the sound echoing in the otherwise empty space. My hand flies to cover my mouth, muffling the noise.
“Is somebody coming?” somebody, a woman, asks in a hushed, sultry voice.
“Nobody comes here,” a rough, male voice says this time, reassuringly.
A voice I know all too well.
Hayden.
I stand still, unable to move a muscle.
There is a clear sound of the clothes rustling, followed by another moan.
“You like the idea of getting caught.”
My heart is thumping loudly, so loudly I’m surprised they can’t hear it too.
I should go. Leave and pretend like I haven’t seen or heard anything, but my legs don’t listen. Instead of turning back and getting the hell out of here, they lead me forward.
Toward the sound of rustling.
Toward the words that are said so low I can’t decipher what they’re saying.
I swallow hard, the lump in my throat making it hard to breathe. My mouth desert dry.
One more step.
Where are they?
They couldn’t be…
Something moves on my right and I slowly turn, hoping they can’t hear me.
The last thing I need is for them to catch me sneaking up on them. My hand grips the edge of the shelf as I bite into my lower lip so I don’t make a sound.
Hands tangled in red hair. Hayden’s hands. His mouth devouring hers fervently, like his life depends on it. Her hands are digging into the waistband of his jeans, pulling them low and revealing a patch of golden skin.
I swallow the bile that has risen in my throat, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.
Go, the voice urges me, but I cannot move. I’m not even sure I want to.
Talk about messed up.
I’ve had sex only a few times before the accident. They were quick, messy, and uncomfortable. Every time happening in the cloak of the night, in the back seat of my boyfriend’s car.
Are they really going to do it? Here? Where anybody could hear them or possibly even see then?
There is a pang of something—irritation, anger, jealousy?—I’m not sure. I’m not even sure I want to know, so instead of looking at her, I look at him.
The strong column of his throat as he throws his head back, her lips kissing the path of his neck. That mussed brown hair and full lips that part, another low groan coming from somewhere deep inside him as her teeth rake over his skin. His arms flex, bicep bulging, fingers digging.
I shift my weight from one leg to the other. My brain chants leave, leave, leave, but my body won’t listen. And a sick part of me gets it. I have to see it, see him like this, maybe then this foolishness will stop, maybe then...
“Fuck,” he mutters as his eyes fly open. The angry flames in those emerald irises are directed right. At. Me.
Chapter Twenty-Two
HAYDEN
I can feel her before I can see her. At first, I thought it’s just my imagination. It’s pathetic how much I want her. How much this one girl, the one I absolutely shouldn’t even think about, much less want, can mess with my head.
I’m trying to convince myself it’s all just in my brain, but no matter how many times I repeat it in my mind, it’s not the redhead who’s in my arms.
It’s Callie Stewart.
Her honey ponytail is wrapped around my wrist. Those pouty pink lips assaulting mine and sucking the life out of me. Softly murmuring in encouragement at the intrusion as I fuck that mouth of hers with my tongue.
Redhead breaks our kiss, her mouth moving down my neck, teeth grazing the skin.
Fuck, I hope she doesn’t leave a hickey. Guys will bust my balls.
There’s a soft sound, so soft I think it’s all in my head, but something inside of me doesn’t want to let it go, so I force my eyes open. Maybe it’s better that way. Maybe if I look at the groupie, I’ll stop imagining her as somebody else. Somebody much different. But the contrary happens.
“Fuck,” I hiss as my eyes land on the last person I want to see.
I blink, hoping it’ll go away, but of course it doesn’t.
Callie.
She’s here, lurking between the books like a little Peeping Tom.
And she’s most definitely real, not just a fruit of my imagination.
My gaze meets her between the books.
Those violet eyes are wide. Cheeks flushed—in anger or arousal? The fuck if I know. But she doesn’t blink, much less attempt to run away.
No little miss Stewart, looks straight at me as the redhead falls to her knees in front of me, licks her lips, her fingers working on my jeans with practiced ease.
My hand falls over hers and she lifts her head to look at me, a confused look on her face. “What?”
“Stop.”
“What?!” she repeats, screeching louder than I’d like. I seriously hope nobody heard that or we’re really fucked.
“Stop,” I hiss in warning. “I think you were right. I heard something too.”
I run my free hand through my hair in frustration. I can’t believe I’m actually doing this shit. Sighing, my hands fall to my sides and I push her away, working on zipping myself up.
“I think you should go.”
A shadow falls over her face, her eyes narrowing. The playfulness on her face completely gone.
“Go?”
“Yeah, I told you, I think I heard somebody.” I wave my hand in the direction of her still kneeling on the floor. “You don’t want people to see you like that, now do you?”
She gets on her feet in a hurry, dusting off her knees. Those dark eyes still staring daggers at me. “You really are a jackass.”
“I never pretended otherwise, sweetheart.”
I wait for her to react, to slap me or push me away, but the only thing she does is huff before storming away.
I should feel bad for her, but I don’t. She knew exactly what she was getting herself into when she followed me here. Somebody’s sudden appearance might have cut it short, but it’s for the best.
Sighing, I look up at Callie, only she’s not where she was a moment ago.
Fuck.
I hurry down the line and then into the next one. Callie is just turning the corner in a hurry. She’s walking as fast as she can to run away from me, but she’s no match for me.
I want to yell for her to stop, but don’t feel like being found. Not yet and especially not by Mrs. Gibson. She’s already pissed off at me from earlier.
Finally, I catch up to her. My hand wraps around her wrist, pulling her back. She stumbles from a sudden movement, crashing into my chest.
“Let me go,” she hisses, trying to pull her arm out of my grip.
“I don’t think so, angel.” I lean down and whisper in her ear. We’re standing so close she has to tilt her head back so she can see my face.
“I swear to God, if you don’t let me go right this instant…”
The rim of her cap is throwing a shadow at her face, preventing me from seeing anything, but if I had to guess, I’d say her eyes are narrowed at me.
I don’t want to guess, though.
I want to know.
Going on instinct, I grab the rim and pull the damn th
ing off. I must somehow pull her hair tie in the process too because the golden locks spreads over her shoulders.
“Hey!” she protests angrily. “Give that back!”
She tries to reach for the cap, but I hold it above her head and out of her reach.
“Or you’ll what?” I lift my brow, a smile playing on my lips.
“Uggghh,” she protests, jumping a few more times, unsuccessfully. “I hate y—”
The words are lost when she loses her balance and starts falling toward me. Violet eyes grow wide, and I’m sure mine match hers too. I’m not sure who’s more surprised.
Letting go of her hand, I wrap my arms around her. Her chest presses into mine, the soft curve of her tits brushing against me as I fall back into the shelf.
The impact knocks the air out of my lungs, leaving me breathless. Or maybe that’s just from Callie’s soft body pressed so close to mine.
Her lips part, warm breath touching my skin and making the hair on my arms rise. My gaze darts down to that plump bottom lip that’s calling my name. Begging to be kissed.
I’m so concentrated on her lips I almost don’t notice when she pulls the damn hat out of my hand.
“Don’t you dare touch it again,” she warns, her fingers gripping the red material tightly.
“It’s just a damn cap.”
“Well it’s mine and I don’t want you touching it.”
“Well, I’d prefer not to have you following me…”
“Following you!” she scoffs. “I was just looking for a book for my essay!”
“Yes, following me and watching me get it on…”
“If you have sex in the broad daylight in public, you don’t deserve anything less,” she huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. The stance should be defiant, but the only thing it does is accentuate her cleavage.
“Sex! That wasn’t even close to having sex!” I take a step toward her. She glares at me, pulling a step back. We repeat the dance until her back is against the shelf. I lean forward, my hands braced on the shelf behind her, caging her in.
Callie puffs away a strand of her hair that falls in her face. “It looked pretty damn close! I’m sure you’d have continued if it weren’t for me cutting your fun short.”