“Finn McKenzie? Hmmm… now there’s an uninspired choice.”
His comment has my teeth once again gnashing together painfully. Straightening my spine, I continue ignoring him as I walk down the cement sidewalk that lines the parking lot.
“I enjoyed our ride in the elevator, Ivy. We’ll have to do it again sometime.”
My jaw literally aches from clenching it so tightly. I’m so tempted to give him the finger, but I don’t. Not unless I want to end up explaining what just happened to Finn.
Which I don’t.
It irritates me to no end that I’ve allowed this guy to crawl under my skin. Again! For goodness sake, I should know better. It’s been obvious from the get-go that Roan is nothing more than a manwhore looking for an easy lay.
And I refuse to be that for any guy.
Yanking open the door to the Jeep, I have to make a concerted effort to smooth out my features along with my jangled nerves. “Hi.”
Finn smiles before his eyes slide to Roan who is now walking past us. I watch as his brows lower. “Were you two just together?”
I can’t help but glance at Roan. It’s as if my eyes are irresistibly drawn to him against my will. Like an idiotic moth to a flickering flame. As our gazes collide, he gives us a huge shit eating grin. Jerking his chin in acknowledgement to Finn, he keeps on walking. When he’s about ten feet past us, he turns, walking backwards a few steps before calling out, “Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow afternoon, Ivy.” Apparently not satisfied that he’s needled Finn nearly enough, he adds a little wink before disappearing inside a huge black SUV.
The smile Finn had been wearing moments ago melts into an irritated scowl as he continues watching Roan through narrowed eyes that spark and snap with anger.
Clearing my throat, I mutter, “No. I told you he lives next door to us. I ran into him in the hallway when I was walking out.”
Even though he continues glowering, he says nothing in response.
Not wanting this to ruin our evening, I try making light of the situation. “Finn, I barely know the guy.” My mind tumbles back to the elevator ride and his lips sliding deliciously across mine. To the feeling of electricity that shot clean through me. For some reason, it occurs to me as my eyes involuntarily fall to Finn’s mouth, that he’s never made me feel that way.
Out of control and completely turned on.
It’s like comparing a light spring shower to a tsunami. It just can’t be done. The feelings Finn had always aroused hadn’t crashed over me, making me forget everything in the whole entire world except for him.
Knocking me out of my silent reverie, Finn grumbles, “I don’t like how familiar he is with you.”
I’m so tempted to roll my eyes. This date with Finn isn’t exactly off to a great start. The last person I want to talk about is Roan. Sliding into the front seat next to Finn, I try placating him one last time. “Like I said before, I barely know the guy. He’s just a neighbor.”
With narrowed eyes, he watches me suspiciously, as if I’m lying to him. Which… I guess… I am. “You two are meeting up tomorrow?”
I suddenly remember that we are indeed getting together tomorrow. Shifting uncomfortably in my seat, I say in the most offhanded tone I can muster, “Oh… um, yeah. We’re partners on a project for our business ethics class. We need to start working on it.”
“Did you ask to be partners with him?”
It takes a moment for me to remember that Finn and I aren’t together. I have nothing to feel guilty about. Not even for the kiss that just happened ten minutes ago. Finn is the one who ended things between us. Not me. I don’t owe Finn any explanations as to what I’m doing or who I’m spending time with.
Raising a brow, I finally say in a no-nonsense voice, “Actually, I asked the professor if I could change partners. It’s a huge project and I want to work with someone who’s going to pull their share of the workload but she wouldn’t let me switch.”
Finn snorts in response before reaching out and tangling his fingers in my hair. “I think the guy’s a real dumbass. You were smart to try and get rid of him. You’ll probably get stuck doing most of the work.”
Even though I no longer think that’s precisely true, I don’t bother correcting him. I’m kind of wondering what his problem with Roan is anyway. It’s clear they don’t care for each other. I could sense it at that party a few weeks ago.
But I don’t want to talk about Roan King any more tonight. I’d rather have a nice evening with Finn and see where it takes us.
Chapter Eleven
Apparently someone enjoyed a pomegranate and berry smoothie today… thanks for the update Chad ;) We can always count on you to keep us in the know! KingOfCampus.com
Roan
“Hi,” I give the older woman sitting behind the front desk a full wattage smile, “is Ivy around?”
She blinks a few times before a cheeky grin pulls up the corners of her mouth. “Well, hello there, handsome.”
I can’t help but laugh in response.
Apparently wanting to get a better look at me, she leans across the front desk. Unabashedly her eyes take a leisure tour before coming back to rest on my face. “I know who you are.”
For just one ridiculous moment I wonder if Ivy has mentioned me to this woman. Don’t ask me why the notion of her talking about me sends a little thrill slicing clean through me, but it does.
“You’re Roan King. Wide receiver for the Barnett Bulldogs. I just read an article about you in the newspaper. First game of the season yesterday and you all but crushed Ohio.”
I smile even though something that feels suspiciously like disappointment careens through me. “Yep, the team is really gelling right now. Got ours eyes focused on winning games and working towards a championship.”
Still smiling, she shakes her head. “Can’t remember the last time there’s been so much buzz about the football team. You’ve got the whole city talking.”
Right… no pressure there. I continue smiling before clearing my throat. “So, Ivy…”
“Ah, yes, Ivy,” her mouth stretches into an even bigger grin, “she’s just finishing up with a ballet class.” She points towards a hallway with several doors. “Last studio on the left.”
Giving her another smile, I thank her before taking off down the hall. We agreed to meet at the library around one o’clock, but when I stopped over at the girls’ apartment this morning with Dylan, Lexie told me Ivy was teaching a few classes at the studio downtown. Apparently she usually walks to and from her job and since it’s about a mile from the apartment, I decided to swing by and pick her up so we can get right to work.
Because I know Ivy would shoot down any overtures I made, I didn’t bother asking.
That seems to be her usual MO where I’m concerned.
She clearly couldn’t care less that I’m Roan King. Barnett University’s very own golden boy. The wide receiver who’s looking to turn pro at the end of the year and has a damn good shot at going as a first round draft pick.
At least that’s what my agent keeps telling me.
So far, this girl has spilled her drink on me, tried to ditch me as a partner because she thinks I’m a complete dumbass, and shot down all my hook up attempts.
If I had any brains what so ever, I’d steer clear of Ivy Kaster. Unfortunately, I already know that’s not going to happen. As much as I hate to admit it, the girl totally intrigues me. The mere fact I’m standing right outside the studio she’s teaching in because I started feeling impatient to see her only slams that point home with a ruthlessness I wasn’t expecting.
I mean, what the hell is up with that?
Peeking in, I watch her leading class at the front of a mirrored room. Her fingers are wrapped around a wooden barre that sits about waist high and spans the entire wall. There are six little girls in pink leotards and tights standing alongside her. It’s apparent to even me that each and every one of them is trying to mimic exactly what she’s doing. And while they�
�re all wearing sheer little skirts, Ivy is wearing a black leotard without any skirt.
My mouth instantly dries as my eyes skim down her long lean length.
God… did I really think she wasn’t my type?
That she didn’t have any curves to speak of?
Because standing there in nothing but lycra and tights, with her hair pulled up into a tight bun on the top of her head, she couldn’t look any sexier if she tried. I listen intently as she instructs the class to follow her movements. The heels of her feet are pressed together as she bends at the knees and sinks gracefully to the floor. One arm is still holding the barre while the other is stretched out perfectly straight. The girls standing alongside her in a neat little row try to copy what she’s doing.
I can’t help the smile that twitches around the corners of my lips. Normally I’m not one who thinks kids are charming or cute. The most interaction I have with squirts this age are when they want me to sign their footballs and programs. Or when the team puts on a clinic for kids in the community.
Otherwise I generally steer clear of the little beasties.
Ivy asks them all to hold their poses as she comes around to check their positioning. Smiling, she praises each one.
Even though her smile isn’t directed at me, it still arrows clean through me. It occurs to me that I’ve never seen Ivy smile like that before. And certainly never at me. It makes me feel as if I’ve been somehow cheated.
Clapping her hands, all the girls break their poses before instantly swarming her. She speaks quietly to them before they all nod their heads in unison. Then she gets a small bowl from the front of the room and without being told, all of the girls rest their hands on top of their heads as she comes around with stickers that she then places on their hands.
In the blink of an eye, all the little half pints are scampering away. A few of the parents stay to speak with Ivy. Asking questions, I’m guessing. She looks so completely serious as she explains whatever-the-hell-it-is-she’s-taking-the-time-to-explain to them.
When all the girls and their parents have finally cleared out of the studio, Ivy walks to the front of the room and grabs a big water bottle before taking a long drink from it. Because I’m still loitering in the hallway, she hasn’t seen me yet. I really should let her know I’m here… but I don’t.
Not quite yet.
For some reason, I just want to stand here and watch her for a little bit longer. Ivy is so full of grace and polish. Setting the bottle down, she goes to the barre and places both hands on it before leaning forward and stretching one leg out in back of her. After holding the pose for a long moment, she does a few more stretches before moving to the middle of the wooden floor.
Holding both arms out, she executes a series of leaps and jumps that span the length of the space. There is no music playing but there must be some kind of beat in her head because all of her movements are rhythmic and purposeful. Just when I feel like I couldn’t be more impressed with the sheer flexibility she exudes, she performs what looks like the splits midair. As she comes out of it, she rolls onto the floor in a somersault before popping up and then spinning around on one foot.
I’m pretty sure my jaw just hit the floor.
I can’t take my eyes off her.
Off her body as she bends and tucks and rolls. Somehow making it do whatever the hell she wants it to. I’ve never seen someone with such physical command over their body before. It may be totally unmanly to admit this, but my breath actually catches at the back of my throat as I continue watching her. Hell, I don’t think I could rip my eyes away if I tried.
I’m completely blown away by what she’s able to do. I mean, yeah, sure… I heard she danced… but I had no idea she could perform like this. That she was this good. Like a… professional or something.
And then the spell is broken.
All movement ceases as our eyes finally collide. I hadn’t realized I’d stepped inside the room instead of hovering just outside the door, but here I am.
Her breath comes in fast little pants as her eyes take me in. She looks confused.
“What are you doing here? I thought we were meeting at the library in about forty-five minutes?”
Is it wrong to say that watching her do whatever-the-hell-she-just-did is a huge turn on? And that body hugging leotard certainly isn’t helping matters either. That scalding hot kiss from yesterday suddenly crashes its way through my head. It takes everything I have inside not to immediately close the distance separating us and haul her into my arms so I can kiss the hell right out of her again.
“Roan?” Her voice rises just a bit as if she knows exactly what’s tumbling through my head.
Clearing my throat, not to mention those unruly thoughts, I reply, “I, ah, thought you might need a ride home.”
Cocking her head to the side, she continues watching me. Almost as if the offer might be some sly bit of trickery on my part. “How did you know I was here?”
Before I even have the chance to formulate a response, she mutters, “I’m going to kill Lexie.”
I can’t help but flash her a grin. “Oh, don’t be too hard on her. I weaseled it out of her before she had her first cup of coffee.”
A small smile curls around the corners of her lips. “Well, I guess that would explain it.”
Since Dylan and I have been roommates since freshman year, I met Lexie when they started hanging out last year. She’s a cool chick. I like her. And she’s slept over enough times in the past for me to know that she has a major caffeine addiction problem. If you ever need to get info out of her, hit her hard before that first cup in the morning. She’s usually so groggy she’ll tell you just about anything you want to know.
Hence me finding out where Ivy was this afternoon.
I also took the opportunity to do a little more digging into the Finn McKenzie situation. I was decidedly unhappy to learn that they were together for about six months before he dumped her ass while she was in France. Clearly he’s looking to patch things up with her.
Am I bothered by this newly gleaned information?
Yeah… I think I actually am. But mostly because I can’t stand that prick. The guy is a major asshole. And a huge player.
Which, yeah… I understand how maybe that could come off sounding a bit hypocritical, but still... When I hook up with a girl, I’m completely clear about my intentions. It’s a onetime deal. I’m not in the market for a girlfriend. I have way too much going on. Which in no way means that I don’t enjoy getting laid with a fair amount of frequency. It just means I don’t want the aggravation of having a girl whining at me about what I’m doing, where I’m going, and that I’m not spending enough quality time with her. I don’t have time for that bullshit. I have to stay focused on football and school.
But Finn… I’ve heard some not-so-good things about that dude. He dates girls and then screws around on the side. Now that, I have zero respect for. If you want to nail anything that moves, anytime you want, then don’t have a girlfriend. It’s as simple as that.
Not knowing what else to say, I shove my hands into my pockets. “So, you ready to head out?”
Looking conflicted, she doesn’t move a muscle. There’s just a hint of confusion written across her features as if she’s not quite sure she should take me up on my offer. And the fact that I kissed her in the elevator last night probably isn’t helping matters either.
Neither one of us say a word as our gazes continue to hold. My breath catches. It’s so quiet I can almost hear the clock on the wall ticking. Apparently deciding I’m an acceptable mode of transportation, she finally nods her head. “Yeah, just let me grab my bag and we can go.”
Unable to help myself, my eyes slide appreciatively over her body as she turns away from me. A few seconds later, she’s jogging over to the corner of the studio where her bag is lying against the wall. She slips off her black ballet shoes before pulling on an oversized t-shirt and pair of leggings. Sliding her feet into a pair of shoes, she then s
hoves the ballet shoes into her bag.
I seriously can’t believe how hot this girl is. And watching her dance just now… yeah, that only kicks it up like a hundred more notches. Unfortunately, I have a semi-aroused situation going on in my jeans. God forbid I actually stiffen all the way up while we’re walking out of here. Somehow I doubt Ivy would be flattered by my lust. She’d probably refuse to ride back to the apartment with me.
So I try focusing on things that are in no way related to Ivy… or dancing…. or long caramel colored hair… or skintight leotards.
Damn it.
Instead I focus on the season opener we played yesterday. I think about the arms and chest workout I need to run through tonight. I think about the time consuming business ethics project Ivy and I need to start working on.
Hmmm.
That only has me thinking about spending more time with Ivy.
Which has me thinking about her long lean body.
And those freaking splits she did midair.
Fuck… I bet she’s limber as hell.
Yep, now I really need to shift my junk around. This isn’t good at all.
As we’re walking out, the woman who greeted me when I first came into the studio looks like she’s getting ready to close up for the day.
“Bye, Donna, I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
“Bye, honey.” Donna’s eyes shift to me before giving me a saucy little wink. “And it was certainly nice meeting you, Roan. Good luck with the rest of your season.” Her eyes swing speculatively between us.
I give her a wave in acknowledgement. “Thanks, nice to meet you, too.”
And then we’re pushing through the front door into the bright sunshine. Even though I picked her up so we could get right to work, that idea doesn’t necessarily appeal to me at the moment. Noticing the smoothie shop right across the street, I point towards it. “You want a smoothie or something? You must be hungry after all that.”
King of Campus Page 10