Ocean Kills (Ocean Breeze)

by Jade Hart

  “Oh, nothing much. I just came to get an espresso and maybe a scone, but judging by the spread you have there, I’d guess they’re all cleaned out of freshly baked goods today.”

  Oh, wow, a jab at my weight; weight I hadn’t even carried around since freshman year, thank you very much. But the stuck up she-devil couldn’t resist reminding me about it—how original.

  “Very nice, Lila. Did you think that one up all by yourself, or did one of the professors who gives you special tutoring help out with your creative genius?” A sick sense of pleasure filled me when I saw her jaw clench, showing I’d struck a nerve. This was immature, perhaps, but I couldn’t help myself. The girl drove me insane.

  She pursed her lips, then quickly schooled her features, speaking in her annoying, squeaky voice. “Now, now . . . there’s no need to get vicious. I just came over for some friendly banter.”

  That was highly unlikely. Lila Nix always had an ulterior motive. She wouldn’t have thought to waste her precious air on the likes of me, unless she had something cooked up in that puny brain of hers.

  She pushed a loose strand of her blonde locks behind her ear in annoyance, probably offended the hair had the audacity to fall out of place. “Actually, I came to offer my condolences about the upcoming art showcase.”

  Ugh! The shrillness of her voice made me want to take a two-by-four to my head. Wait . . . what about the showcase?

  “Condolences for what?” I asked stiffly, trying not to show her how much I was freaking out inside. I wanted to be in that show more than I wanted my next breath, and she knew it. But they weren’t supposed to be picking students for another month or so! They hadn’t changed their policy, had they? Oh, God, I hoped not.

  Her smug grin widened. “Well, nothing’s for sure, yet, but you may as well give up now. Professor Frankton has been absolutely raving about my collection. She tutored me over the summer, you know, helping me expand my work, and kept going on and on about my artistic promise. I practically have this one in the bag.”

  I highly doubted that, considering Professor Frankton had indicated on more than one occasion she found Lila even more annoying than I did. Still, it wasn’t personality that landed one in the upperclassmen showcase, it was talent. And as much as I hated to admit it, she actually had some. Then again, so did I, and I’d be damned if her work was chosen over mine.

  Her smile was full of faux sympathy. “But no hard feelings, huh? There’s always next year, and I’d be totally willing to mentor you, if you’d like.”

  “Thanks for the offer, but, to be perfectly honest, I’d rather lick a cow’s ass.”

  She tsked. “Does every word that comes out of your mouth have to be dripping with negativity?”

  She rose to a stand, grabbing her purse off the table in a huff. “And here I came to offer my help on your pathetic work.”

  And the Oscar goes to . . . .

  “Speaking of negativity, where’s the ever-so-pleasant Piper Lovelace? Usually I’m hit with an award winning number of personal attacks by now.”

  “Lika Dicks!” Piper said, arriving right on cue. “How’s my favorite bimbo today?”

  She put her coffee cup on the table and took her seat, smiling up at Lila. “Actually, I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to let you know that if you need any help with that student organization booth during Welcome Week, I would be happy to be of service.”

  I raised a brow. The only service Piper had ever performed was community, and that had been for breaking into the campus pool to go skinny-dipping with some guy. She had to be setting Lila up for something.

  Lila’s expression showed she had the same suspicions. “Really?”

  “Absolutely,” Piper said, nodding.

  She looked so genuine I found myself wondering if she really was considering helping.

  “Okay, great.” Lila took a pen and notebook from her Louis Vuitton bag. “Which booth would you like to help with? Are you interested in the Republican Leading Ladies or the Chicks of Future America?”

  Piper took a long sip of her coffee as she seemed to give the question honest consideration. She put down her cup casually, then added cream, scraping her spoon on the bottom of the cup with every stir. Taking a napkin off the table, she made sure every drop of liquid was completely removed from her spoon. After she was done, she folded up the dirty napkin and placed the utensil meticulously in its center.

  If she went to all this trouble, she must be brewing up something special. I drew in closer as to not miss a beat.

  “Oh, just put me wherever you need me. Except your booth, of course, because The Blowjob Student Union is a one-woman show, right? I truly admire how you’ve worked so tirelessly to make sure every guy on campus benefits from your services. It’s all about uniting the community, right?” Piper beamed.

  I hacked a breath, almost choking on the piece of brownie in my mouth. I couldn’t have been prouder to have this girl as my best friend.

  Lila snapped her notebook shut and thrust out her chin. “Okay, I’m outta here.”

  “Wait a sec, Lila,” I said, trying to minimize my laughter. “Did you get the letter about our schedule change?” One unfortunate thing about being an art major alongside Lila Nix was we shared the same classes pretty often. We both happened to be buying our textbooks books at the same time last week and were rudely awakened to yet another schedule similarity. And the odds of us both choosing Zoology for our science elective . . . ? Slim to none. But, of course, we managed to do it. It was like the universe had it out for us.

  She glowered down at me. “I did. What of it?”

  “Are you staying in Professor James’ class?”

  “I don’t see how that concerns you, but I’m taking a class with Pondensky, instead.” She spun around, her platinum extensions whirling as she left. Her black and tan checkered scarf barely cleared the door as she exited.

  Piper laughed into her coffee, looking at me expectantly. “Come on, say it.”

  I may have made it a point not to stroke her already huge ego, but I was woman enough to give credit where credit was due.

  “You are a rock star.” I gave her a light round of applause. “You had me going there for a second. I honestly couldn’t tell if you were being serious or not.”

  Piper made a face. “Me at Welcome Week? They should be so lucky.” She looked at the door Lila just exited through. “You know, I should have a t-shirt made for her: The Blowjob Student Union – A Plastic Army of One.”

  I laughed. “You do that, and I’ll deliver it personally.” I shook her hand.

  “It’s a deal. So about our schedule . . . .”

  “I think we’ve already got the answer to that. We’re staying in Zoology.” Sure, I’d have haul ass across campus to make it to my next lecture every day, but the trek was worth it to avoid Lila Nix.

  “Works for me.” Piper scratched her chin. “Hmm, I wonder where I can get a t-shirt made?”

  I was about to suggest the campus print shop, but I was distracted by a sudden prickling sensation I felt on the back of my scalp. I rubbed the back of my head and turned to scan the café, but nothing struck me as out of the ordinary. Shrugging it off, I tried to focus on what Piper was saying, but the feeling that we were just being watched wouldn’t go away.

  THE TRUTHS ABOUT DATING AND MATING

  A spicy, new adult contemporary romance by Jaycee DeLorenzo

  Contact Jaycee

  Website: http://jayceedelorenzo.com

  Blog: http://blog.jayceedelorenzo.com

  Twitter: @jayceedelorenzo

  Facebook: jaycee.delorenzo

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Where is he?” I demanded of Matt Frye as I barreled through the front door of the second floor suite in Seligman Residence Hall.

  Matt, one of the four residents of 236, looked up at me from his perch on the shabby, midnight-blue couch with glassy eyes. Stoned off his ass, as usual. “Ivy, hey.” He gestured to the wall behind him with the white Wii contr
oller in his hand. “I don’t think he’s alone.”

  “Even better,” I said as I stormed by the couch and into the small, semi-circular hall containing four closed doors. Turnabout is fair play, after all, and after the crap he pulled today...

  I pursed my lips as I stopped outside Ian’s door and pounded my fist on its heavy walnut surface. “Ian Hollister, you’ve got exactly ten seconds to open this door before I’m coming in!” While I had no qualms about breaking up whatever was going on behind the door, I had no desire to view the physical act itself. I would only go in if he forced me to make good on my threat. “Ten… nine…”

  Muffled voices and shuffling sounded from the crack under the door. Ian pulled the door open just as I spat out a terse “Three!”

  A pair of dark blue jeans rode low on his hips, the button undone. His feet and muscular chest were bare, displaying the biohazard tattoo that covered the entire left side of his torso. It extended into a tribal design over his shoulder and dipped far into the waistband of his pants. His inky-black hair was an even bigger mess than usual, and I figured the spiky strands had been finger-combed more than once by the slender redhead standing behind him. Her baleful look as she slid her slinky black dress into place over her narrow hips said she wanted to squish me under her peep-toe stilettos.

  Ian scratched the back of his neck and gave me a wary look. “Ivy, what’s up?”

  I crossed my arms over my chest and stared hard into his mossy-green eyes, telegraphing that playtime was over and we needed to talk. I was not having this conversation in front of one of his random hook-ups.

  The redhead dipped below Ian’s extended arm, and slid her body between us, forcing me to back up. Her fingers slid into his belt loops and she yanked him toward her so her ample breasts pressed against his chest.

  Ian’s lids lowered and he gave her a half-smile.

  “Call me anytime,” she stressed in a sultry voice, pressing her lips to his neck.

  Call me crazy, but if a guy had just kicked me out for another woman, I certainly wouldn’t be rubbing up against him like a bitch in heat. I wanted to shake her and tell her to have some self-respect… or at least do what any other normal slighted girl would do and march her ass out of there with a steady stream of epithets spewing from her mouth. But girls never acted like that with Ian. One turn around his dorm room and they were hooked.

  “Sure thing.” Ian’s eyes slid my way, and then quickly darted away.

  My presence made him uncomfortable. Good, I thought, trying to ignore the small sliver of guilt prickling at me.

  The girl lifted her head and flicked her tongue over Ian’s lower lip. “See you later, sexy.”

  And I think I just threw up in my mouth.

  The redhead’s head swung my way. She looked me up and down, snorted and rolled her hazel eyes. She recognized me. I could tell by the look on her face - the one that said I was an annoyance, but not a threat. Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she strolled out of the room in four-inch kitten heels that displayed a pair of toned thighs and shapely calves I would kill to have.

  “Where’d you find that one?” I asked.

  “Laundry room.”

  “In that getup?”

  Ian scratched his head and shrugged. “She said she was all out of clean clothes.”

  “I’ll bet.” More than likely, she’d spotted him carrying his basket downstairs, threw on her slinkiest dress, and then dashed down to the basement to offer him a little “bachelor bundle.”

  But why was I questioning him about his latest hookup? We had much bigger matters to discuss. I rounded on him. “What did you say to Brian Sellars?”

  Ian’s eyes swung to mine, his dark brows knitting together. “Who?”

  I took a threatening step forward. “Don’t act innocent with me. You know exactly who I’m talking about.”

  He shook his head. “Doesn’t ring a bell.” He was lying. Well, I knew he was lying but the twitching muscles at the corners of his wide mouth confirmed it.

  “Let me remind you, then.” I took another step forward until we were less than a foot away. “Sandy blond hair, blue eyes,” I lifted up on my toes and leveled my hand at the tip of his ear, “about yea high. The guy I had a date with tonight until you had a talk with him this afternoon,” I added, my voice rising in intensity. Catching his smirk, I cuffed him upside the head.

  He chuckled and rubbed the side of his skull. “Oh, that Brian.”

  “Yeah, that Brian.” I propped my balled fists on my hips. “What did you say to him?”

  “Nothing. I just told him it would be in his best interest to be a gentleman.”

  “Your. Exact. Words,” I gritted out through clenched teeth.

  Ian squinted at the ceiling and scratched the whiskers on his chin. “Well, I can’t remember the exact words, but I may have mentioned it wasn’t illegal to dig a hole in the desert, and I had one all dug out for anyone who mistreated you.”

  “Ian!” I shoved him in the middle of his hard chest. He stumbled back a few steps, releasing a bark of laughter. “Why would you do that?” I asked. He’d always been good at the silent intimidation, but this was the first time he’d actually progressed to a verbal threat.

  “Oh, come on. The guy had douchebag written all over him. I was just making sure he treated you with the respect you deserve.”

  “You were just making sure I’d never get laid!”

  “Ahh!” Ian cupped his hands over his ears. “Don’t say stuff like that in front of me.”

  I shook my head at his ridiculousness. We spent Tuesday and Thursday nights at our campus radio station, advising people on the topic of relationships and sex, and yet, somehow, the idea of me actually having sex really seemed to freak him out.

  “Don’t say stuff like what?” I asked, moving in closer. “Don’t say…” I paused and made my voice breathy, “that I wanted Brian’s gorgeous body all over mine.” I slid my hands over my torso and lowered my eyelids, hissing a breath in between my teeth. “That I wanted to feel his hot, sweaty, rippling muscles rubbing all over my—”

  Ian’s brows slanted and the corners of his mouth tipped further down. “Cut it out, Ivy.”

  I closed my eyes and ran my hands through my long, dark blonde locks, really getting into my act. “To feel him sliding between my thighs,” I said, moaning a little for effect, “giving me pleasure like—”

  He clamped his hand over my mouth. “Knock it off! I get it.”

  I smirked against his hand and batted my lashes at him. The look of horror on his face was pure comedy. “I’m sorry, was that bothering you?” I asked, my voice muffled against his hand.

  He glared down at me for a long moment before shaking his head. An affectionate smile moved over his face. “Man, you’re twisted.”

  I threw off his hand. “And you’re a pain in my ass! This overprotective brother routine is getting real old.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said, giving me big, round puppy dog eyes. “I just wanted to make sure you were treated the way you should be.” He blinked twice and his lower lip jutted out so far you could land a B-52 on it. “You’re my best friend. I couldn’t bear it if someone hurt you.”

  While I knew part of him was just trying to get on my good side, I also knew he really was concerned about my well-being. He always had been. I sighed. “You… suck. I hate you.”

  A slow, adorable grin spread over Ian’s face. “No, you don’t. You looooove me.” He splayed his arms wide and came at me for a hug, but I sidestepped his reach.

  “Nuh-uh, buddy. You’re not touching me while Miss Fluff n’ Fold’s sweat is still drying on your body. Go take a shower, and then we’ll talk.”

  “Oh, all right.” He nodded his head to the room behind him. “Come on in.”

  I sneered. “Not a chance. It smells like cheap sex and knockoff perfume in there.” The only thing I could smell was fresh air, since his window was wide open, but I had to give him a little crap for his cavalier sex life;
it’s what I did. “I’m going to go play a few rounds with Matt. Now that I don’t have a date - thank you very much - you’re giving me a ride to work tonight. And don’t think we’re done talking about this.”

  He winked, giving me a devilish grin. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  Ian spun around the cramped radio station booth with a look of panic on his face. “Where the hell is my headset?”

  I deleted Brian’s text message breaking our date from my Android and looked up, spotting Ian’s missing equipment. I sank into my cushy swivel chair, kicked my legs up on the console, and bit down a chuckle. My gaze slid to Amery Archer in the adjacent engineer’s room, where she was prescreening calls. She looked over at Ian and giggled into her hand. I winked, then ducked just in time to avoid Ian’s elbow as it swung toward my ear. The time on the computer ticked down to forty-five seconds. In light of the time crunch, I let out the husky laugh bubbling in my throat. “They’re behind your ears, brainiac.”

  Ian stopped short. He raked both hands through his hair, knocking the headphones askew. “I knew that,” he said after a beat, easing into his best lazy grin. It was one he’d perfected over time, one that had the power to turn otherwise smart and capable college girls into mindless, giggling twits, ready to drop their panties at first sight.

  I rolled my eyes, immune to his charms. “Sure you did.” Dropping my legs to the ground, I tossed my phone into my bag and fished around for an elastic band. Finding one amongst the lint and scone crumbs along the bottom of a pocket, I then swept my long hair up into a sloppy ponytail. I glanced at the computer before me. “Fifteen seconds.”

  Ian flopped into his chair and spread his long, denim-encased legs wide. His grin widened, making the cheekbones he’d inherited from a distant Native American ancestor more pronounced. A teasing glint flickered in his eyes. “Ready to get down and dirty?” he asked, jiggling his brows at me.

  I licked my lips and winked, playing along with his meaningless flirtation. “I’m always ready, baby.”

  He waved his hand to the microphone. “Then by all means….”