by Wendi Zwaduk
“Our next exam is Friday on chapters sixteen through twenty-four. Remember your blue books.” Professor Reinhold clicked the lights on, temporarily blinding Mindy.
She groaned. Another test.
Not that an exam really bothered her. She loved the challenge of getting the answers right and scoring her best. Besides, it wasn’t like she—Miss Bookworm Extraordinaire—had a thriving social life. Paying the bills to get through college was hard enough work without trying to worry about a man and a love life. And Darrin had helped ruin her in the love department.
Too bad the books weren’t as exciting and warm as a virile college guy with brains and good looks.
She sneaked a peek at Mystery Man. Instead of seeing the side of his head and the breadth of his shoulders, all she found was an empty seat.
Damn.
Mindy snorted. Typical. Pining for a man she didn’t know in a class where she didn’t stand out. At least she had every Monday, Wednesday and Friday with him until June.
* * * *
“She stared at you again.”
Arran groaned. Trust his friend, Sav, to worry about the girl from Art History. “She’s a sweet girl. So what if she wants to look?”
Savion Welles raised one brow. “She’s not your type.” He elbowed Arran and directed him into the school’s sub shop. “She’s a girl.”
“Here we go again.” Arran dropped his backpack onto the nearest table. “What’s wrong with girls?”
“You don’t date girls,” Sav snapped.
Correct. Arran Mayes didn’t date girls. He dated guys. Big deal. He rummaged through the pack for his wallet. “There’s no law saying girls can’t look in my direction, stare or drool. I’m rather likeable by those who know me.”
“I’m your best friend other than Nathan. I know you.”
“So lay off.” Arran stuffed the five-dollar bill into his pocket. “I’m getting a pastrami on rye. Want anything?”
Sav flicked his hand.
“I’ll take that as a no.” Arran rolled his eyes again and strode through the gaggle of tables towards the sub shop counter. As he crossed the room, he saw her. The girl. She sat religiously through each boring art lecture, taking notes and hazarding glances in his general area. Warmth flooded his cheeks. Few women actually looked his way. Most dismissed him long before they got to know him.
According to their banter, Arran had a great style and a nice voice, but their conversations always worked around to whether Nate—his best friend—was seeing anyone. Some would be put off with the constant barrage of questions concerning Nate. As long as it wasn’t men asking, Arran didn’t care. He happily directed the girls into Nate’s view and sat back to watch the fireworks.
But with this girl…he wanted to watch what could happen and not with Nate. Arran Mayes wanted the action, excitement…he wanted a girl. At least to get to know her name and find out what the fuss over women was about. Maybe get her phone number. See what made her smile…
Whoa. He needed a good fuck, that’s what the attraction was. A bodily response to someone good-looking. He shoved the burgeoning desire aside in his mind. Focus on lunch.
He took his place at the back of the line. What if the attraction wasn’t a lack of sex? He appraised her from afar. Nice hips. Enough to grasp during a roll in the sheets. Holy fuck. Where’d those thoughts come from? Blood flowed to his cock and he shifted his weight to relieve the pressure. Shock…yes, she had to be a shock to his system. A glitch.
Thick blonde hair fell to the middle of her back and the fleeting scent of vanilla wafted to him. His mouth watered. Was she into hair pulling?
He shook his head. God, biology was a bitch. Here he was thinking about sex, what to do to make her scream during sex, or whether to just walk away from her altogether. Somewhere between Art History and lunch, something had come unglued. She liked sub sandwiches and that little nugget of info stoked his interest.
He shook his head again. Enough fantasising about things he didn’t want.
A guy behind her struck up a conversation. “What’cha having today, Min?”
Min. Arran tipped his head. Nice name. He strained to hear her answer. Please let her be one of those girls who ate, not picked at food.
“Pastrami. Same old, same old.”
Arran chuckled. Simple. He liked simple and wonderful…men. He forked his fingers into his hair. The feelings weren’t dissipating. Damn it. He liked guys, so why her and why now? He tore his attention from Min and glanced in Sav’s direction. He lusted after men—dark men, brooding men. Guys like Nate and Sav. Not women. He loved the feel of a man’s pecs and pebbled nipples crushed against his chest, not the pillow of women’s breasts. Fuck, he’d never even dated a girl.
The scent of vanilla swirled around him. Arran turned as Min strolled past, sandwich in hand. His mouth watered. For the pastrami or her? His brain whirled with confusion and glee. He had to talk to her and get to know the vixen of Art History. As strange as it felt to be intrigued by her, it also seemed…oddly okay. He forfeited his place in line and followed her to her table.
“Hello. Min, is it? I’m Arran. I wondered if I might sit with you?”
Her eyes widened as she stared at him. Her lips parted and crimson infused her cheeks. She waved her hand at the empty seat.
Arran sank down beside her. Instead of the apprehension he always felt when dealing with women—especially attractive women—a calm settled around him. Strange.
“What can I do for you?” She offered her hand. “My name’s Mindy, by the way. Phillip thinks I like being called Min. He’s…Phillip.”
Mindy. The name suited her. “Mindy. We’re in the same Art History lecture class, aren’t we?”
“I’m the one who bores holes into the side of your head. Sorry. I shouldn’t stare.”
She grinned and his heart leapt. What would it taste like to nibble on her bottom lip?
Arran matched her smile. “I don’t mind. And since we’re sharing pleasantries, I’m Arran. Arran Mayes.”
Crap. What was he supposed to do now? Just sitting next to her wasn’t going to be enough. Hell, if he dawdled around too long, she’d tell him to get lost.
“Do you have the notes from last Friday’s lecture on the Lascaux cave art? I missed some of what Reinhold said.” There. That was a good save. Sounded intelligent and made him look like he cared about the class. He did, but sharing that info wasn’t happening right away.
Mindy rummaged through her shoulder bag and produced a notebook. “Want to photocopy them or just fill in your blanks?”
“I’ll copy by hand, if you don’t mind. I’ll get my bag and my lunch and join you. Okay?” He rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans legs as he waited for her answer. “I’m having a great time talking to you.”
“Sure.”
“Be right back.” Arran sprang from his seat and practically skipped across the room. She wanted to spend time with him. Granted, it could be her simply being nice to him, but he didn’t care.
Sav glared as Arran gathered his things. “Not your type.”
“I’m getting Art History notes.” Arran slung his backpack on his shoulder and headed back towards her table. “This could be the start of something really great.”
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About the Author
I always dreamt of writing the stories in my head. Tall, dark, and handsome heroes are my favourites, as long as he has an independent woman keeping him in line.
I earned a BA in education at Kent State University and currently hold a Master’s in Education with Nova Southeastern University.
I love NASCAR, romance, books in general, Ohio farmland, dirt racing, and my menagerie of animals.
Email: [email protected]
Wendi Zwaduk loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com.
Also by Wendi Zwaduk
Learning How to Bend
Must Be Doi
ng Something Right
My Immortal
You’ll Think of Me
Tangled Up
Careless Whisper
Please Remember Me
What Might Have Been
Ever Fallen In Love
Savin' Me
Someone Like You
Treble: Savin’ Me
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