by Leaona Luxx
“Country boy. Hey, country boy. Hold up,” she yells as she jogs toward me.
“Country club. What’s up? Didn’t think your posse was gonna let you slum.” Throwing my backpack over my shoulder, I shove my hands in my pockets.
“You wreck me, country boy. So, where you off to, library?” She raises her brows in expectancy of my response.
“Naw, my room.” My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out to see Ava’s name across the screen and automatically answer. “Hey, Ava. I’m just getting outta class, can I call you back?”
“Yeah. I didn’t mean to bother you,” Ava answers quietly.
“No bother, sweetheart. I’ll hit you back in a few,” telling her to soothe her need of my attention.
“Sounds good. Love you,” Ava says it off handed, but we both know what she’s doing.
“Me too.” I hit end before another word can be spoken. I hope Ava can’t tell something was going on, she’ll drive me crazy if she does. In the meantime, the woman in front of me didn’t miss a thing.
“Girl back home, country boy?” She steps around me as she begins walking in the direction of the dorms.
“Naw, friend. Known her all my life.” I nod as we walk in sequence.
“Well, do tell. You going to marry her?” She hesitates on the word ‘marry’ as if it might upset her to know the truth.
“No. I’m waiting for the ‘one’, ya know?” Hedging at the invitation for more.
“A romantic, country boy? I think I might like that.” She knocks into me as we walk.
“Naw, not romantic. Realistic. I want the kinda love my parents’ shared. Lasting. Too goofy?” I cast my eyes to the darkening sky, afraid to look at her.
“Goofy? No. Insightful. And to be forward, rather honest. Country boy got feels.” Glancing over at her, she’s looking everywhere but in my direction.
“Are you gonna keep calling me country boy or ask my name?” I chide, trying to lighten the moment.
“I think I may keep calling you country boy.” When she turns her face to me, I melt. She wrinkles her nose as if to say, ‘whatcha think?’ I don’t want to admit what I’m thinking. For some reason, though, I get the feeling I’ll be doing more than admitting I like it.
“Country club, I like the way you think,” I pause to get her acknowledgment, she nods. “How about we hang out, decide if we want to share our names and our Xbox profiles. Deal?”
She looks away to consider what I’ve just said. Like it’s a make or break kind of a deal. She spins around, twisting as if she doesn’t know whether to stay or go. That’s the minute I realize, I’m holding my breath.
“So, we goin’ country clubbing or country muddin’?” I draw her attention to me with my question.
She looks me in the eye and juts her hand out in front of her. “Let’s start with names, I like my Xbox more, Torrie Harrington.” Taking her hand, I shake it then let it go. “Now, what the hell is mudding?”
“It’s ‘muddin’. Brannon O’Hurley.” I jerk her to me and knock her off balance as I lean into her ear to whisper, “Now, to learn all your secrets.” She squeezes my hand before pulling away.
She eyes me skeptically. “So, your place or mine?”
“Depends. I have a roommate. You?” Shrugging through my last words.
“My own apartment.” We gaze into each other’s eyes as light flickers between us, which passes an understanding beyond words. It’s kismet.
“Alright. Let’s swing by my dorm room to grab some stuff, then we can head over to your place.” I flash my best wry smile.
“Head? Okay, my place it is. We’ll work on the language barrier later.” We both laugh at her words, this should be good. Between her northern accent and my southern country twang, it guarantees a few laughs.
“Girl, you done gone country. I’ll have you muddin’ and cow tippin’ in no time.” I jerk my head to the right, signaling her to follow me to my dorm. She doesn’t skip a beat when her eyes go wide with wonder.
“Sweet mother of God. Cow tipping? I’m intrigued.” We burst into laughter.
Midterms. The temporary death of all college students, new or old. Well into my third semester, I take heart in the fact I know I will be passing my exams without incident. I’m blonde, so no one suspects I’m such a dork. I’m also a bookworm, our library at home is one of my favorite places.
For the first time since being at VTech, I’m paying more attention to something than just my grades. I’ve always been goal-oriented, so dating wasn’t a top priority. My father prohibited it my freshman year, I just kept it going, until now.
Spotting Brannon the first day of orientation, I switched with a friend to be his tour guide. He never made a move. I then considered to move on him. But he looked so fresh-faced, I was afraid of turning him off or scaring him away. There was never a clue he was such an old soul.
First day of class, the gods were in my favor, placing this fine specimen in my class. Let’s just take a moment to appreciate this helluva fine ass country boy, if you will. Wavy, chestnut hair with hazel eyes that smolder deep as they peer into your soul.
Muscle bound with, again, one fine ass. I’ve seen a few tats on his arms, and I hope there’s more ink under those clothes. Did I mention his southern country drawl? Oh, it makes me weak in the knees, especially when he smiles at me. Southern comfort at its finest.
Here we are, in my apartment, I feel like a sex-crazed teen as I watch him from my kitchen, playing Xbox. I’m pretending to get chips and drinks, but I’m actually taking in his every move. Every fine movement of his muscle-bound physique.
When he turns to me and smirks, my face flushes with heat. As if he knows my thoughts. Thoughts about him and the things I want to do to him. Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, my eyes close involuntarily as I imagine him taking my mouth with his full lips.
I jump when he clears his throat, my eyes popping open to find him standing in front of me, mere inches from where I want him to be. Need him to be. His scent fills my senses, immediately making me squeeze my thighs together to try to appease the need throbbing within me.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. You okay, you look flushed?”
I’m almost embarrassed. Rolling my eyes, I squeak out a response “I’m good. You ready to get your ass kicked?” I motion to the Xbox. He grins as his eyes wrinkle at the corner, making them sparkle. Damn, I do believe I’m smitten with this country boy.
“I don’t think you can handle my ass,” he says jokingly before he realizes what he’s said. His face is now flushed.
“Yeah, country boy, I think I can handle your ass.” I plaster a crooked smile on my face trying to hide the desire burning in my eyes and thighs.
I brush his body when I pass, sending chills over mine. He releases a heavy breath, making my nipples pebble as we stand there, never breaking contact. Once again, I bite my bottom lip. I’m not sure if it’s to stop myself or to calm my raging hormones.
Bashfully looking up through my lashes, I find him staring at my lip, the one caught between my teeth. The exact one I want to be caught between his lips. I release my captured lip with an exaggerated sigh, praying he kisses me.
When his hands grasp at my waist, pulling me into his chest, my heart races. My hands rise to meet his pecs, hard and waiting. His breath, warm and sweet, washes over me, taking mine away. I begin to tremble in the arms of this man I barely know, but the pull my soul feels for him runs deep and wild. Like the beating of my heart.
Brannon’s grip flexes with the pounding of his heart beneath my hands. Allowing them to slide across his broad chest, I wrap my hands around his biceps. Our chests now lay against one another as we both struggle to regulate our breathing.
My eyes race to his, searching for what our next step will be. Will he take this moment to kiss me? Or will he fight what we both want and let the chance pass us by? All I know is that no matter how much I want this, I must wait on him.
Brannon’s fi
ngers tighten on my hips when he draws me in what seems to be impossibly closer to him. Still, he waits. Watching me. His eyes flicker between my mouth and my pulse drumming through the veins on my neck.
His lips part allowing his tongue to sweep over them, leaving them wet and supple. He’s killing me slowly. The anticipation of his lips on me sends a shiver up my spine. My nipples tighten to a peak. I break, dragging in a ragged breath.
“Maybe we should go back to the couch. To play. The game. To play Xbox, I mean.” Closing my eyes, I send up a silent prayer he refuses to move.
But to my disappointment, he agrees. His breath rushes over me once again, taking mine with it. “Yeah. Definitely need to get back to the game.” Brannon draws in a deep breath but doesn’t move. Why the hell is he fighting this? Or is it, who the hell is he fighting?
We may both have said it, but neither of us have made a move. His fingers dig into my skin as my core tightens, rocketing my hormones into overdrive as I feel his hard-on into my belly. He wants this as much as I do, but his restraint is as strong as my want for him.
Never has the impulse to climb a man been greater. I could fuck his brains out right here on this counter. But something in his face tells me, not yet. No, it’s not going to happen right now. Releasing a long, exaggerated sigh, I push away.
“Come on, dude.” Running my fingers down his arms, I take him by the hand and pull him toward the living room.
Never breaking our eye contact, our souls speak to one another. I know he needs to wait, he knows I will. After a few steps, Brannon pauses. Tilting my head, I hope to coax his thoughts from him so I smile sweetly.
“What are you thinking?” He looks at me as though he wants me to make the decision for him as to whether he should kiss me or not. I would say, ‘go for it’ but my gut tells me he’s not ready to go there yet.
Shrugging as I reveal my thoughts, not my wants. “I’m thinking there’s plenty of time.”
“For?” He leans over me, his brow furrowed, contemplating our next move.
“You. Me. Us?” I leave the rest to him to decide. I mean, what does he want? We’re new, the appeal between us is here. It’s what drew us together, but I can’t tell him what to do.
“I feel as though I’ve waited all of my life for something this…easy. Real. I have no room for mistakes, not anymore.” His breathing is ragged. It’s as though this is his only chance at life.
“Oddly enough, I feel the same way. This just feels right. So, there’s time.” I tug Brannon’s hand to encourage him to begin walking with me again. I hope I’m tugging at his heart; I can’t help myself. I want him.
Again. He stops me. “Time. You okay with that? I mean, we don’t know each other. We should get to know each other.”
What does he want me to say? I respond the only way I know how. “No, we do not. So, with time, we’ll learn. Now, chill, country boy.” With a jerk of his arm, his feet move with mine.
An evening of Halo 3, pizza, and flirting made the hours pass hurriedly. Not what I wanted, but it worked out. Around one in the morning, we run to the corner for a quick food break. Nachos have never been so damn sexy until you watch a fucking god lick cheese from his fingers. Two fingers at a time. Wide tongue. Long, wide tongue.
He looks out of the corner of his eye, my mouth is agape as I watch him clean his fingers. He smirks at me as we walk back to my place. I don’t know what he’s thinking, but the look in my eyes announce loud and clear what’s on my mind.
He interrupts my inappropriate thoughts. “So, you think you can handle an all-nighter?”
“Oh, I can hang.” I shove a strawberry Twizzler in my mouth, instead of what I want to shove in there, making us both chuckle.
He holds the door open for me as we enter my apartment building. He asks nonchalantly, “How long you been in this building?”
“Since freshman year.” That’s it, keep the answers simple.
My one-bedroom apartment is located just one block from campus. It’s simple with a loft style, white with industrial accents. Large windows and an elevator, which is great when I buy groceries. My father’s idea because it’s safe and quiet, considering couples live here.
“How the hell did you swing that? I thought everyone’s supposed to live in the dorms until they’re juniors.” Before I can come up with an answer, it hits him. “Your dad.”
“Yeah, he’s a contributor to the university so they waived my freshman registry. My father thought I would focus more on my studies by living alone. He’s a controlling asshole, but we’ll not go there yet. Hopefully, you’ll meet him one day and come to your own conclusions.”
“He wants the best for you, Torrie. It’s a blessing.” He looks at me as though he’s envious. If only he knew.
“Well, after you meet my father, we can revisit the topic.” Sighing as the words come out, I decide for a different conversation. “What about your dad? Did he help you decide on VTech?”
Opening the door to my apartment, it takes me a minute to realize Brannon hasn’t answered me. I turn to find him standing in the doorway, his eyes downcast. His chest heaving as if he’s holding something back. I take a step toward him, drawing his eyes up.
I knew before his eyes found mine, he was lost. A lost little boy. My heart seized at the mere thought of him hurting so badly. His face is pained with a memory, and his eyes are filled with unshed tears. He shakes his head and averts his gaze as the first tear escapes.
“No. He didn’t get the time.” Two steps later, I wrap him in my arms. He fights his emotions, balking at my attempt to soothe him. I refuse to let go until he does. After a few moments, he puts his arms around me.
“I’m sorry,” I offer as I rub his back for comfort. He pulls away, running his hand over his face to remove any evidence of grief.
“Thanks. I’m good.” He walks over to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water. “I was fourteen.”
“Oh, wow. So, just you and your mom now?” The need to know his story is killing me, but I want him to tell me; I feel like I’m intruding if he doesn’t. For someone so open, it’s like pulling teeth for this information.
“Yeah, she’s amazing.” A smile as wide as the sun breaks across his face. He loves his mom. From what I hear, that’s a good thing.
“I bet she is. I’m sure she would say the same thing about you,” I prod, hoping to get him to open up about his life. I’ve had years of practice trying to get someone to share themselves. I surely don’t want another relationship that I put more into than I receive.
“She would.” He chugs the water, wiping his mouth before tossing the empty bottle.
Opening the fridge, I grab two more bottles of water. “What’s her name?” Handing him one as I turn for the living room, he takes it and follows suit.
“Joyce. She’s the strongest woman I’ve ever met,” he says as we sit down. I pick up the game controller, queuing our next game. His evasive answers only make me want to be more intrusive.
“Call of Duty. To shake off the feels,” I giggle as I shimmy in my seat, prompting him to continue to share.
“Sounds good. I’m sorry for ruining the mood with my family stuff.” His words catch me off guard, and I jerk my head around to gawk at him. His eyes are downcast, his mouth turned down as he sits looking pensive.
“Ruining the mood? For talking about your family? Man, my father is pretty much an asshole, but it would hurt if he wasn’t here.” Giving him my most sincere smile, I ask the tough question, “Do you mind if I ask, how did he pass?” I bite my lip once the words are out, praying I haven’t crossed that invisible line of ‘just getting to know you’.
“No. I was kinda wondering if you were gonna.” He laughs nervously. “He died in a farming accident. He’s my hero. Well, and my mom, of course.” There’s more to this story, but I guess I’ve pushed enough. He clicks a few buttons on the controller, starting the game. Before I lose him, I ask a question I’m sure he won’t mind answering.
; “How did you both make it without him?” Ducking my head to get eye contact, he glances at me then raises his head. I’m in awe, truly. To continue with working the farm and deciding to leave home for college must take a lot of grit.
“Desperation? Determination? I’m not even sure to this day. We just kept moving. We had to make sure we didn’t lose our home or the farm, so we worked day and night to make damn well sure it didn’t happen.” Shrugging as his face draws up, revealing the little ‘V’ between his eyes. He’s in pain, still all these years later. This country boy is working his way into my heart.
“How’d you manage that?” Peeping over at him to see if he’s still with me, I ask in earnest.
“Well, aren’t we nosey.” He elbows me to start my game.
“I’m working on a minor in business, so yeah, I am. Small business America is what holds this country together. That’s my belief.” I glance at him as he grins at my response. “At least tell me what you farmed?”
“Dairy cows. When my dad passed, we sold over half to pay off debt. So, I had to figure out how to work our land. It was my thesis on my application here.” He smiles brightly, making his eyes sparkle. Damn, this country club just closed.
“So, what did you do next? I mean, how did you keep it afloat?” His head tilts to the side as he assesses my question. I would sigh if he wasn’t so surprised at my interest.
“Well, I advised Mom to sell half of our farmland. It was brutal, but there wasn’t enough livestock left to sell for month to month living. We owned a hundred acres, we have seventy-five now. After a lot of research, I sold Mom on planting soy. It’s tough living so close to the beach, but we made it work.” His smile could cure cancer. Well, it sure as hell would melt snow.
“Wow. Soy? The market is rising in that industry. Do you still have dairy cows? And I heard something about the beach?” Raising my eyebrows to emphasize my interest. He continues to smile at me with this adorable lopsided grin.