Co-Ed

by Rachel Van Dyken

  “I model. It’s necessary, and no, that wasn’t an open-ended statement where you get to give me your opinion or ask questions. And in case you care, I had acne when I was a teen — and exactly one friend who I named Fred because he wasn’t actually real, and you can name your invisible friends anything.”

  “Tell me you have friends now.”

  His toothy grin would be gorgeous if he wasn’t so annoying. “Loads, but I don’t talk much when I’m with my friends.”

  “Ah, too busy using your tongue?”

  “Waste it on words or on a woman? Let me think about it.”

  “Gross.” I stood and stretched my arms over my head. “You know, you could be one of those Pleasure Ponies.”

  “Not into sharing,” he said quickly. “And all three of them are really good at it. I’m serious. Far away, Shawn. It’s the least I can do.”

  “Oh?”

  His smile deepened. “But start clipping your toenails out in the open, and I’ll probably zip tie you to a rolling chair and send you sailing toward their door.”

  “Petty threat.” I grabbed my towel and shower caddy, gave him a two-fingered wave, and slipped my flip-flops on. I had exactly twenty minutes to get ready, and I couldn’t stop yawning.

  The lights were already on when I walked into the bathroom. At least this floor was co-ed; they just meant for girls to be in a suite together, not one shared with four guys, but whatever. Again, being stuck with Slater, I wasn’t going to complain.

  Plus, I had to admit, with a shrug, whatever he was trying to dump on my face smelled really good. My flip-flops squeaked against the tile floor. One shower was running, but the other ten were open. I rounded the corner and turned on my Spotify playlist to wake me up. Chainsmokers started blaring as I grabbed my blue towel, placed it on the hook near the curtain, and adjusted the water to searing hot.

  I was just pulling my sports bra over my head when the water in the shower a few stalls down turned off.

  I glanced to my left. Not that I wanted to see a naked girl; it was just instinct to check.

  What I saw was not boob.

  Or soft.

  Or anything feminine whatsoever.

  It was one of the Ponies.

  I quickly looked away as if I’d just been caught doing something wrong, but I knew he saw me, knew I hadn’t been quick enough.

  Perfect dilemma.

  Did I keep stripping and just jump into the shower? Or wait for him to leave? But if I waited, I would look nervous, or maybe like I was trying to talk to him.

  My upper lip was starting to sweat as steam billowed out of the shower in front of me.

  With jerky movements, I pulled off my shorts then my underwear and dove into the shower, ready to wrap the curtain around my naked body if need be.

  After a few seconds of heavy breathing on my part, I let out a rough exhale and was about to reach for my caddy when a masculine hand shot out from the curtain and handed me my lavender body wash.

  “Uh, thanks, man.” I jerked it away from him, only to have that stupid attractive hand reappear and hand me my loofah. “Thanks… again.”

  “No problem.”

  My body swayed, the universe tilted, and I felt my thighs quiver. This was bad. So bad. It was just my overactive imagination. His voice didn’t really sound like warm velvet with a hint of just enough rasp to make me want to lean in and see if it felt funny against my neck.

  Nope.

  Not at all.

  I didn’t realize how vigorously I was scrubbing until the skin on my arms started tingling, and when I glanced at it, saw it turning red.

  I tried calming down, mentally going to a different place, just as the shower curtain was pulled aside and, let’s just call him Pony Number One, leaned against the wall, towel wrapped low on his hips and arms crossed.

  He didn’t once look at my breasts.

  No, his focus was only on my face, which actually made it more uncomfortable. I wanted a reason to slap him, to shove him away, to tell him he was being a creeper.

  Instead, he was looking into my eyes with such intensity I forgot to breathe and started choking a bit before I hissed, “Did you need something?”

  “No,” he said politely. “But thanks for asking.”

  The shower curtain was still open, and my teeth started to chatter.

  Without looking away from my eyes, his hand reached for the handle, and the water grew hotter.

  “Uh, thanks,” I mumbled.

  What game was he playing?

  Why hadn’t Slater told me more? Were there specific rules I had to follow? Was this guy expecting me to pay him for making my water hot and handing me body wash?

  Oh, no!

  He was, wasn’t he?

  That’s what they did!

  They pleased women!

  “I don’t have cash on me,” I blurted in the least sexy voice you could possibly imagine all breathy and squeaky like I’d just swallowed my own body wash.

  He threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, this may be the best day of my life.”

  God, his voice was beautiful. Like the string section of a symphony orchestra, smooth and mellow. I wanted to ask him to say something else. Already, I was leaning in without even realizing it. I jerked back and almost collided with the tile behind me.

  “Oh?” I was already knee-deep in my own embarrassment. Why not take the plunge?

  He moved closer, until drops of moisture hit his perfect jawline. The steam billowed around both of our heads, and I could smell the Irish Spring he must have just slathered all over that perfect body. Instantly, I wanted to run to the store and buy a case and open every wrapper until my room filled with his scent.

  “You don’t need to tip me for being a gentleman.” He grinned wider, and my tongue turned to sandpaper. “Though, out of curiosity, what do you think a nice rubdown would get me, hmm?”

  He wasn’t—

  He wouldn’t, would he?

  He ran one finger…

  One. Finger.

  …down my shoulder until it collided with my elbow. The air backed up in my lungs. Every muscle in my body tensed, and as that finger ran back up, I melted. My legs turned to jelly. How was that reaction even possible? I still felt his stupid finger’s presence as he licked his lips and whispered, “Nice meeting you, Shawn.”

  Then he was gone.

  Dumbfounded, I just shouted, “I didn’t tell you my name!”

  “I know!” he called back with a chuckle, leaving my entire body on fire and my left eye twitching as I stared straight ahead at the blue tile. What the hell had just happened?

  It must have been all over my face, because by the time I made it back into the room, Slater took one look at me and swore.

  “What did I tell you?” He jerked me inside, slammed the door behind us, and braced his body against it like Pony Number One was going to come at it with a battering ram. “Don’t challenge them!”

  “I was in a shower!” I poked him in the chest. “He, he, he—”

  “Oh hell, you’re already stuttering, and he probably just said, ‘Hi.’ Am I right?”

  Heat flooded my cheeks, and I didn’t blush often. Thanks to my father’s African American heritage, my skin was always a perfect olive tone, making it impossible to see a bright blush.

  Until now.

  Until the Ponies.

  I cleared my throat. “I was naked, he poked his head in the shower, peeled back the curtain, gave me my freaking body wash, and then I didn’t know what to do.”

  Slater’s lips twitched. “Um, how about you knee him in the balls and say, ‘Get the hell out, you asshole’?”

  “Right.” I nodded. “I was about to, but I was embarrassed. You know, what if he was doing it for a… tip?” I gulped. The more I spoke the hotter my cheeks felt.

  Slater’s eyes widened before he burst out laughing and wiped a tear from his eye. “Please tell me you offered to pay him. Please. It would make my entire year of suffering with toe
nail clippings worth it.”

  “I just…” I glared, silently willing an asteroid to drop on his pretty face. “I told him I didn’t have cash.”

  Slater braced his body against the door, shaking with laughter like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard in his entire life.

  “It’s not that funny.” I quickly grabbed his stupid moisturizer from the counter, slathered it on, and pulled a hoodie over my head. “And I need to get to practice.”

  He was still laughing when I jerked the door open and looked down. My mortification was complete. A twenty- dollar bill was on the floor, with a yellow sticky note message stuck to it.

  I know my own worth. For next time.

  Love, Leo.

  Slater looked over my shoulder and snorted. “At least it was Leo. He’s more… house broke than the others. I don’t think the guy’s ever even been in a serious relationship, or would even know what it was if it was living with him.” He bent over and snatched up the twenty then handed it to me. “That’s at least three coffee runs, and all because he saw you naked. Sounds like a win to me.”

  I tossed the money back at Slater and turned on my heel just in time to see Leo poke his head out of his room. “Was it good for you?”

  I flipped him off and slammed the door behind me, ignoring the way my lungs grappled with air, and the way my entire body still buzzed with the way his one stupid finger had felt running down my arm.

  Chapter Three

  Shawn

  I made it to the weight room just in time to see that I was about four minutes late. Coach Jackson didn’t even lift his head from the clipboard as he pointed at the wall.

  With a grumble, I marched over to the wall, grabbed the twenty-five-pound weight, and slid down, adding the weight to my knees when I was at the perfect forty-five-degree angle.

  Lucky for me, one of my teammates was another two minutes behind me. I looked closer; something about her appeared… off. She rubbed her runny nose against her team sweatshirt, grabbed a weight, and joined me.

  “Everything okay?” I asked. My thighs burned so badly I wanted to scream. I was only forty-five seconds in; three minutes fifteen seconds to go!

  “My boyfriend broke up with me,” Alexa muttered. “He said I wasn’t spending enough time with him. I wasn’t feeding his needs.”

  “Feed this.” I flipped off the air.

  She laughed and wiped at another tear as she sank down next to me. “He’s an ass. All men are asses. They should all burn!”

  Coach Jackson eyed us and cleared his throat; he wanted us to know he was listening to our conversation.

  I lowered my voice. “So…” Why was I still hung up on these guys? “…I know I just transferred, but I heard about these guys who—”

  “No-o-o…” Alexa shook her head. “I couldn’t. Do you even know the reputation those guys have? Girls get so hung up on them it’s like an addiction. No joke. I know a girl who works an extra shift every week just so she gets one hour with the guys.”

  I shrugged. “One extra shift? That’s not that bad.”

  Alexa snorted. “The woman cans sardines at the fishery, on her feet, in the dark, smelling like fish. Yeah, it is that bad — trust me — but to her, totally worth it. You should see her drugged-up face when she comes back. Rumor has it they use drugs to keep people coming back, but they swear everything they do is legal.”

  “My ass,” I teased, though every part of me had felt drugged by one fingertip, so who was I to judge? Slater was right. Stay away. Far, far, away.

  “Anyway…” she shrugged. “…I’ll just get over it the old-fashioned way.”

  “Darcy, chocolate, and ice cream?”

  “Hell, yes!”

  My muscles screamed accusations of physical trauma, and I started to wince as my last fifteen seconds rolled around.

  I dropped to the floor as soon as I could and slammed the plate against the rubber mat, giving my coach a dirty look while he was turned.

  “Saw that, McKenzie,” he yelled.

  I just groaned and started to stretch.

  I had a lot of warming up to do.

  And a lot of pain to endure if I was going to stop thinking about the guys across the living space. Besides, our games didn’t start for another month, and during that month I’d be working my ass off trying to build muscle, get into shape, and not flunking out of Human Anatomy.

  “Squats!” Coach blew the whistle, much to the dismay of every woman in the room.

  I stood on wobbly legs and realized it had completely worked.

  Exercise had taken my mind off the Ponies.

  And the embarrassing shower situation. Besides, it was not like I would see a lot of them, since they did all of their business in their room.

  I shuddered.

  Drugs. It had to be illegal drugs.

  “So…” Alexa fell in stride next to me as we walked over to one of the coffee shops to grab some food. “…you got a boyfriend?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Between sports, school, and trying to find a part-time job, when would I even have time?”

  “You’re telling me,” she sighed, and I could tell she was sad; she was even walking like she was trying out for the part of Eeyore.

  “Look.” I opened the door to the shop and let her in. Warm air immediately comforted the chill on my arms. “He wasn’t your lobster — that’s all you gotta worry about. True lobsters stay together forever, and it sounds like he was more worried about himself than you.”

  She blinked away another tear.

  “Why don’t you come over tonight? We can watch a few movies? I’ll even order pizza or something.”

  Alexa sniffled. “Why are you being so nice to me? You don’t even know me.”

  “Single ladies have to stick together.” I winked. “Besides, I’m new, and it would be good to have a friend who isn’t my male roommate.”

  She frowned, confusion registering in her eyes. “Wait, how did that happen?”

  “Long story.”

  “Tell it, and I’ll pay for our drinks.”

  “Deal.” I smiled as we both put in our orders.

  Alexa went to the bathroom while I found a seat by the window.

  I was just starting to dig into my bacon gouda sandwich when I smelled it.

  Or him.

  Not really an it.

  Aftershave that held the hint of rain and cedar mixed with mint, and something so damn sexy I had no choice but to look up. I was suddenly lucky I hadn’t taken a bite. I would have choked, he would have saved my life, and I would have still died of mortification.

  “This seat taken?” It was one of the Pleasure Ponies. Yeah, I wasn’t going to survive one day if they kept pestering me.

  I cleared my throat. It was one of the guys who’d come out of the room first. Not the one who was scary attractive. On a scale of one to ten, would I sell my parents for this guy? No. Would I send them to Siberia for a year and let him kiss me in every secret place?

  Yes.

  So, yeah, on the hot scale? Still pretty damn hot.

  “Yes,” I finally spoke up. His chocolate eyes crinkled at the sides as he ran a muscled hand — yes, even his hand had muscle — through his cropped, honey-blond hair.

  “Really?” He leaned those same hands against the table, casting a shadow over me with his massive body.

  The aftershave hit harder. A hundred bucks says they discovered a way to put crack in cologne and were selling it on the black market.

  “No, I’m lying,” I said with a straight face. “Yes, really.”

  “I’m Finn.”

  He didn’t hold out his hand.

  So I didn’t offer mine. “That’s nice.”

  He bit down on his lower lip, showing me nice white teeth from a smile that would make a whore turn in her own pimp. “You live across from us, right? The girl with the pretty hair.”

  Aw, he’d said my hair was pretty! My heart might have stuttered bit as I mentally did a hair flip and winked
like I had game — which I didn’t.

  Calm down! Focus!

  Mental slap.

  And another one for good measure.

  I smiled. “That’s me.”

  “With the guy’s name?”

  “Like Finn is any better?” I said sarcastically. “Is it even short for anything, or were your parents just not very creative?”

  “Finneas Arthur Titus.” His grin widened. “The third.”

  I felt a bit weak in the stomach. The Titus family was known throughout the entire Pacific Northwest. If Seattle had royalty, they would be it.

  “How nice for you, Finneas Arthur Titus, the third.” I tried not to look impressed.

  He just threw his head back and laughed. “Knox was right. We really should stay away from you.”

  My ears perked. Where was Alexa? How long did it take to pee? “Knox?”

  “The hot one,” he said in a serious tone.

  “What’s that make you? The ugly one?” I fired back.

  “Oh, I’m the sexy one,” he said, completely deadpan. “Leo’s the sensitive one, and Knox? Well, he’s the one everyone just wants to fuck. But he doesn’t like playing with his food, so…”

  “You’re a douchebag.” There. I’d said it.

  “Thank you.” He put his hand on his heart just as Alexa approached.

  “It’s like they don’t understand the concept of flushing! Just flush the damn tampon and be done with it— Oh, hello th-th-there.” She finally got it out on the third try and gave me a withering look.

  “Alexa Hampton.” Did he know everyone’s name? Was he a child genius or something? “It’s a pleasure.”

  My eye felt twitchy as he reached for her hand, kissed the back of it, and winked.

  “Alrighty then.” I moved to grab my coffee and food. “We were just going, so if you’ll just return to the 1800s…” I had to physically help Alexa stand. Even then I was worried she was already under his spell as she stumbled with me out the door.

  When I turned around, Finn was still staring.

  He blew me a kiss.

  It made my knees weak, while at the same time, forced me to wonder if the guys had found a new target, a new challenge, a plaything who would entertain their bored, rich minds.