He sent me a get real look. “No. I’m just feeling unsure this morning—not an emotion I’m used to. I’d like to walk in there and show her that I’ve met someone special. Start the semester off with a bang.”
“Are you serious?”
A wicked grin curled his lips. “Why not? Let’s screw with them.”
My thoughts raced, grasping at a reason to say no. I couldn’t find one.
He had offered to fix my car if the groupie didn’t pan out. He’d even stopped and gotten me coffee. Plus, it would be nice to waltz past Bart with the most popular guy on campus next to me.
Normally, I’m the least impulsive person ever, but what could possibly go wrong if I pretended to be his girlfriend?
Nerves and excitement flew over me. “Let’s do it.”
Max
WE STOOD WAITING FOR THE elevator, Sunny a good two feet away. Her expression was composed, yet I sensed nervousness. She’d been quiet since we’d agreed to do this, and I hoped she wasn’t regretting it. The idea of a fake girlfriend was growing, taking root in my head.
“I don’t have a disease,” I teased, poking at her arm, trying to get her to relax. At this point, no one was going to buy it.
She considered me with a serious expression. “Whatever. I’ve heard about your reputation with the ladies. Love ‘em and leave ‘em seems to be your motto.”
“Meh. That was freshman year when I was stupid.” I grinned. “Maybe sophomore year too—but I’m clean as a whistle. Just had a complete physical.”
Her gaze shot to the crotch of my jeans and then to the wall. She swallowed. “Nice to know. I’ll file that away under my Things to Know About Max Kent folder—which I’ll never use.”
I grinned. “And no one’s going to believe you’re into me unless we play it up, which means I’m going to have to kiss you before we walk into class,” I said.
“Kiss?” she squeaked, her eyes big as she faced me.
Yeah. That had gotten her attention.
I nodded. “The elevator doors are going to open in front of a hallway full of students. Most people haven’t talked to me or seen me all summer besides my teammates and, trust me, all eyes will be on us. We want them to think we’re in love. We want them to think that I can barely keep from screwing you right here.”
She gaped at me. “You’re insane. I didn’t agree to this just so you could make out with me.”
I splayed my hands out. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to. I’ll kiss you so good, you won’t be able to kiss another guy for an entire year without thinking about me.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “Pffft. Do you even know how cocky you are?”
“Won’t deny it. I am Max Kent.”
She blew out a loud breath like this was the last place she wanted to be. Was it just me that bugged her? I was intense and hard to handle—mostly on the field, though.
Don’t be an idiot, Max.
Everything isn’t about you. Put yourself in her shoes. Her car’s just been demolished, she’s braced to see her ex, and a guy she doesn’t know just asked her to put on a show.
“What’s it gonna be?” I asked, tapping my fingers against my thigh, oddly anxious.
“Fine, you can kiss me, but no boob squeezing or crazy stuff.”
I nodded. Fine with me. I could keep it light. Public displays weren’t my thing anyway since I kept my life as private as I could.
But I couldn’t stop myself from teasing her. “Most girls would kill for that, ya know,” I said with a grin.
“I’m not most girls.”
The elevator arrived and we stepped on, thankfully alone. Brushing my hands across her shoulder, I eased her backpack off and set it next to mine on the floor.
“You ready?” I asked, inching into her personal space.
Her chest rose and she nodded.
She was a stranger to me, yet I had no qualms as I touched her neck, tracing the lines of her throat and the shell of her ear. She wasn’t that pumped up pretty like some girls with their makeup and crazy eyebrows; no, she was lovely, with creamy skin and hair the color of straw and cotton mixed together. I dug it.
And that orchestrated kiss idea? A gimmick—partly. I just wanted to kiss her.
She looked at me with big gray eyes and my breath hitched. Gray didn’t do them justice; they were a soft smoky color with pale blue lines that feathered around her pupils like lightning. And her lips? I’d noticed them first thing. They were plump and symmetrical, the sweet indentation on the top calling my fucking name.
I swallowed. “You ready?”
“You already asked me that,” she said a bit breathless.
Oh. Yeah.
Without moving away from her, I pressed the button for the sixth floor.
I leaned down and kissed her. She tasted like honey and sugar, and I wanted more—but not with her standing like an android, hands limp at her side.
I ran my nose up her neck and licked the tiny heart-shaped birthmark on her lobe, making her shiver. “Kiss me, Blondie.”
“Rule number one: don’t call me Blondie. It’s unimaginative, plus it was Bart’s thing.”
“Done.” I cupped her face and took her mouth again, this time more insistent, sweeping my tongue inside to explore her—but Bart’s face loomed in my head. I barely knew him, and the cheating boyfriend story wasn’t a new one in the college scene, but something about the vulnerability in her eyes made me angry.
She brushed her tongue against mine, her hand going to my waist and tugging me closer.
I forgot about Bart.
Shit. I forgot everything.
Heat went all over me.
Our hips gravitated toward each other as if we’d done this before, and what had started out as a first date kind of kiss turned into something else entirely. My hand slid into her hair to get a better angle, deepening the kiss until it was a full on make-out session. I hitched her leg up until it curled around my hips. She moaned, her hands sliding down to squeeze my ass. My skin sizzled, and my cock hardened, ready to—
The elevator door opened on our floor, but our lips stayed fused as my hand kept the door from shutting on us. I wanted everyone to see this. I pressed one more kiss to her swollen lips and eased back. Her gaze was low and heavy. Mine had to be the same. If I had my choice, we’d march out of this elevator, find a corner in a dark classroom, and fuck each other’s brains out.
It was tempting.
But I couldn’t. Not with my neighbor. It was bad to mix pleasure with girls who lived next door. Only an idiot would do that.
She let out a shaky breath, her chest rising and falling. “Don’t . . . do that . . . again.”
“I won’t.” I totally would—hypocrite that I was.
I laced our fingers together and escorted her out of the elevator.
Several people with raised eyebrows watched us as we exited the elevator, cruised down the hall, and entered Dr. Whitt’s class. A couple of guys nodded at me, their eyes following Sunny as we passed. A few sent me appreciative nods.
She’s mine. Keep your hands off.
“Wait.” I got out my phone and pulled her off to the side. “We need a pic to commemorate our one day affair.”
She winced. “I look like I’m ready for bed, and I didn’t even get to straighten my hair—”
How could she not know how lovely she was? “You’re gorgeous, Sunny. Say it.”
“You’re gorgeous, Sunny,” she deadpanned.
“Come on, say it like you mean it.”
She shook her head. “No. It’s not true. I’m a six, maybe a seven when I put on eyeliner, maybe an eight if I use a push-up bra.”
I sent her a grin. “We’re not going to class until you say it.”
“I’m gorgeous,” she snapped. “Happy?”
“Yep. Now smile.” I held the phone up for a selfie, licked her on the cheek and snapped the pic. Boom. “Once I lick you, you’re mine,” I said softly.
Her cheeks pin
ked, and I knew where her mind went. I pushed that thought away and sent the pic to all my social media accounts. Let the groupies get a look at that. Maybe they’d leave me alone for a week or so.
A few seconds later, we bumped into Bianca.
I’d at least expected to find a seat before the drama started.
She saw me and lit up like a Christmas tree. Petite with huge boobs and a tight ass, she was the kind of girl who demanded you look at her. The low-cut clothes she wore, the bright red lipstick, the way she raked her cat-like eyes over you like she wanted to eat you, all of it added up to a chick that craved attention and got it. Her exotic, flowery scent slammed into me, and I felt my body tensing, remembering how my sheets had smelled like her for weeks even after I’d washed them.
I glanced over her shoulder for Felix. Fucker wasn’t there. Guess he wasn’t taking this class.
She smiled, her brown gaze refusing to leave mine, one of the tactics she used to ignore the girls I was with. “Long time no see. How was your summer?”
“Awesome. How’s Felix?” My voice was sharp.
“Fine,” she said, reaching out to touch my shoulder. “Uh, maybe we can talk after class. I have a lot to tell you.”
“No thanks.”
She sighed, her hand dropping down to rest across her chest as a wounded expression flitted across her face. “Okay. I deserve that, but you have to forgive me someday. Please. I’m sorry for . . . everything.”
Everything? She’d tried to trap me into marrying her.
Someone bumped into me to get to a seat, and I looked around, realizing we’d been stopped too long and were impeding the traffic. Other students sidestepped around us to get to their seats.
Shit, shit, shit. I wasn’t handling this well. I should be the first one to walk away. I should—
Sunny wrapped an arm around my waist and leaned into me. She couldn’t make it any plainer that I was hers. I relaxed.
“I’m sorry, have we met? I’m Sunny, Max’s new . . .” she stumbled a bit, but managed to push out, “girlfriend.”
“Bianca,” she retorted, “his ex-girlfriend.” She turned back to me, her eyebrows raised. “I didn’t realize you were dating someone.”
“I don’t have to keep you updated,” I said curtly.
She sniffed at Sunny dismissively, assessing her casual shirt and flip-flops. A tiny curl formed on her lips. “Not your usual, Max.” She flicked her hair, a glint of malice in her gaze. “I’ll be sure and tell Felix you said hello.”
My hands clenched, remembering how he’d picked my lock. “Better yet, tell him he’s a cocksucker who can’t throw a decent pass. Maybe he should tryout for cheerleading.”
She laughed low under her breath and waltzed off, making me fume. My emotional reaction was what she craved.
“Let’s go,” I said to Sunny.
She nodded and followed me as I headed toward two seats midway back from the podium. “Well, that was uncomfortable,” she said, sending me a side-eye. “Now maybe she’ll leave you alone for a bit. That is what you really want, right?”
My lips flattened. “I am done with her.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I am.”
Yet, I couldn’t deny there’s something about a girl who shits on you that always makes you wonder where you went wrong.
We got out our books just as Ryn, an offensive lineman, took the seat behind me. A huge Asian player from California, he was a destroyer on the field.
I introduced him to Sunny, and when he asked how we’d met, I froze. I hadn’t planned on concocting a story, but I fumbled around and ended up telling an elaborate story about how we met at the Phi Alpha toga party last spring. Famously known as one of the craziest parties of the year, it was the first thing that popped in my head, but I wasn’t even sure I’d been at that particular one.
“ . . . we ended up kissing in the bathroom at the party, and when I saw her again this summer, we started dating.”
Total BS.
“Where did you meet this summer?” he asked.
I blinked. Lying was harder than I thought.
Sunny jumped in. “At the Orion Coffee Shoppe on Third Street. They have the best lattes and chocolate croissants in Atlanta. He spilled his water on me—I mean, who drinks water in a coffee shop?—and the rest is history.” She smiled broadly and fluttered her eyes at me.
Two thoughts hit me at once. First, Sunny was a great actress. Second, I had never heard of this coffee place—but obviously she liked it. I made a mental note to find out where it was.
“Dude. That’s awesome,” Ryn said, sending me a knowing glance. “You deserve someone good after Bianca.”
Yeah. The entire team had seen how she and Felix affected my game.
I felt a malevolent gaze on me, like someone wanted to shove a stick of dynamite up my ass. I flicked my eyes one row over and found Bart’s eyes on me.
Well, well, well. First Bianca and now the douche-canoe.
I straightened in my chair. Hell, I was tempted to blow him a fucking kiss—but I had to keep my temper in check. Football demanded it.
He jerked out of his chair and made his way over to us.
Sunny
THE GUY WHO’D BROKEN MY heart was walking straight to where I sat. A handsome, All-American type, I’d met Bart at the library when he’d been on the hunt for a book about Jane Austen for a research paper. I fell for him immediately. He was a sexy athlete who read books and could talk about interesting authors. Duh.
He’d probably read up on Cliff Notes before our dates.
I inhaled a deep breath. Prepare thyself for drama, Sunny.
He halted in front of my desk. His usually perfectly styled auburn hair was in disarray as if he’d recently raked his hand through it. Long on top, he wore it in a dramatic swept back fashion that reminded me of Edward Cullen. It had been a little joke between us—Bart, my sparkly vampire.
Sparkly liar, I reminded myself.
I did my best to keep my face calm. But seeing him up close, taking in his chiseled jawline and the lean body that had been my first, made a knot rise in my throat. Sadness mingled with hurt swept over me. We’d never had closure. Not really. I’d simply walked out of the party and never spoken to him again. Since that day, he’d left me over fifty voicemails and had sent me hundreds of texts. I’d never listened or read a single one. Once you’ve seen betrayal with your own eyes, there’s nothing left to say. I had too much pride to listen to his excuses.
Last year, it had taken me three months before I was ready to go all the way with him, and the first night we’d had sex, he’d been gentle and kind. By six months into our relationship I was planning a future with him. I’d follow him to whatever team he got called up for.
Then he started pulling away . . .
“You kissed him,” Bart pointed at Max in disbelief, “at the toga party? When we were dating? That’s interesting since I recall you saying you had to study that night. You’d been cheating on me the entire time.”
I replayed Max’s story back in my head. Oh. Bart thought I’d kissed Max before he’d cheated on me. My teeth clamped together. How dare he?
I shrugged, feigning coolness.
He came in closer, and Max stood, his body straightening to his full height, towering over everyone, Bart included. “Watch it. I don’t like how close you’re standing to Sunny.”
Bart turned to glare at him, his ears red, a clear sign he was angry. He shoved his fingers into Max’s chest. “Mind your own damn business.”
Max’s face turned into a block of ice. Ominous and cold. I imagined that was how he looked at the defensive players whenever they lined up on the field. “I’m not letting you yell at my girl.”
“Your girl?” Bart sneered, throwing his hands up. “You don’t even know her. And for your information, I’d never hurt Sunny. Can’t say the same about you.” He looked pointedly at Max’s clenched fists. “You’re the one who likes to fight,” he said, obviously referring to
the altercation between Max and Felix last year.
“That’s right. Now get back to your seat before I shove my fist in your face,” Max said softly, his eyes narrowed.
“I’m not afraid of you, asshole—”
“Everything okay back there?” Professor Whitt had walked in and was staring at them from behind wire spectacles. He frowned and adjusted them, his eyes darting from Max’s face to Bart’s.
“Yes, sir,” Max said, but never took his gaze off Bart.
Neither of them moved.
“Sit down,” I hissed, directing it at both of them. They were acting like petulant children fighting over a toy. And Max and I weren’t even a real couple! Insanity.
Thank goodness, Bart stalked back to his seat.
“I can fight my own battles with him,” I whispered to Max as he sat back down. “Don’t do that again.”
He ignored me, his lips pressed together, his movements sharp yet tautly controlled as he took out his laptop, letting it plop loudly on the desk.
Okay. Fine. He was angry. I got that. But why?
I focused back on unpacking my things, feeling as weak as a wet noodle.
Whitt got down to business calling roll and laying down the law about tardiness and absences. Inwardly, I groaned. I’d done my best in here last semester, but after I’d missed a few days when Mimi had gotten her knee surgery, it had been impossible to catch up. As a person in the arts, science and math were my kryptonite.
The room got quiet. Everyone was staring at me.
“Miss Blaine . . . you with us today?” Whitt said.
“Yes.” I straightened in my seat.
“Good.” He nodded at me and sent me a small smile. With dark wavy hair and a nice face, he was good-looking for an older guy. I’d heard he was actually a nice person, just ridiculously hard.
“Welcome. Let’s hope you pay attention this semester. Tell me, Miss Blaine, what organ is the most important in the human body?”
Crap! He didn’t waste any time.
I flipped the pages in my textbook, skimming over the material he’d assigned through email last week. My anxiety shot up. Maybe instead of pulling down wallpaper I should have read my assignment. “The heart?” Sounded good.
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