All Played Out (Rusk University #3) (15 page)

And now I’m honoring his memory by doing my best to climb up into his lap like he’s some giant bronze Santa Claus. I step up on his foot and try to haul myself up onto his knee, but I have a pitiful amount of upper-body strength. As in . . . basically none. I jump, hoping that might help, but I only end up clutching ridiculously at the knee, unable to pull myself up but too afraid to let myself drop for fear that I might twist my ankle landing on the statue’s foot.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” Torres says, having hopped up behind me with zero assistance. Then his hands are on my ass, and he’s pushing me up onto the knee.

“Did you suggest we do this just so you could grope me?” I call down to him.

“Unexpected benefits.”

Carefully, I climb to my feet, holding on to Rusk’s outstretched arm to keep me steady. Then, after one deep breath, I scramble my way onto his large bronze arm and shimmy my way down into his hand. I sit in his palm, and have to hang one leg over each side. My thighs are a bit too large to fit comfortably, so I feel like I’m wedged into his hand. And one look down at Torres’s grinning face tells me what an idiot I am.

I’m straddling the statue’s hand.

And while it’s holding my weight just fine, there’s no way I don’t look ludicrous. And probably a little lewd.

“Most people don’t actually sit in his hand, do they?”

“It’s the knee for most people, true.”

“Torres!”

“What? I figured go big or go home. Besides . . . it’s pretty fucking hot.”

“I’m going to kill you as soon as I get down from here.” I start trying to shift myself out of the hand, but my butt really is entirely too large for this thing.

“No! Wait,” he says. “Let me jump down and get a picture. You’re up there already. Might as well make the most of it.”

I try to scowl at him. But it
is
pretty funny when you think of it. And it will make a good picture. When my brother and I were growing up, Leo’s room had been covered in stuff like this. Photos with friends. He had a big stop sign on his wall that he and his friends had stolen God only knows how. He had souvenirs from places they’d been and things they’d done. Nothing crazy because we weren’t quite well-off enough to travel or anything. But little things that meant something to him even if they didn’t matter to anyone else.

Memories.

I had trophies. Medals. Certificates. Those were my memories. But no one takes those kinds of things to college with them. You’re supposed to pack them away in boxes because as soon as you graduate, they don’t really matter anymore.

But now . . . I have this.

While Torres descends, I look out at campus. It’s dark, but there are streetlamps dotting the sidewalk. Noble Library is a few blocks over, and is still open, but otherwise the university seems abandoned. The statue is in the middle of a grassy courtyard, surrounded by old oak trees that have probably been growing since the university was founded back in the late 1800s.

It’s peaceful and beautiful, and it occurs to me that I’ve never just sat somewhere on campus and looked. There’s always been somewhere to go or something to do, and I’ve never taken the time. I lean back on my hands and breathe in the night, and when Torres calls for me to look at him, my smile is wide and genuine.

“Come on! Get crazy,” he says.

I throw my hands up and smile even bigger. He laughs and snaps another picture on his phone.

“You’re a
real
wild one, Antonella De Luca.”

Then something occurs to me, and my stomach tumbles with nerves and a surprising feeling of exhilaration. Can I check two things off my list with this late-night adventure? Can I actually be a little wild for a change? I think about Torres’s words.
You’re up there already. Might as well make the most of it
. I take a deep breath, shift to sit on my knees, and wait for Torres to slip his phone back in his pocket.

Then I call, “Hey, Mateo!”

When he looks up, his eyes questioning, I gather my courage and the hem of my shirt and lift it up for one, two, three seconds. Then I tug it back down, keeping my eyes squeezed shut because I’m too scared to see his face.

Chapter 16

Mateo

H
oly. Fuck.

I blink. And blink again.

And I’m tempted to keep my eyes closed so I can just keep picturing her. Damn. I was already halfway to obsessed with her rack, and now that I’ve seen it wrapped up in that black, lacy bra, I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to look at her without having to fight off a hard-on.

She has her eyes scrunched up tight, and her lips pressed tightly together, and for the life of me, I can’t believe she did it. This is the girl that ran away from me at that pool less than a week ago. The girl who won’t even tell me half the things on her bucket list.

That girl
just flashed me.

While she still has her eyes shut, I jump, and propel myself up onto the statue’s base. She opens one eye, and then the other, and her gaze sweeps around the grass, until I climb up onto Rusk’s knee. She gives me this shy smile, and I’m undone by how she somehow manages to be adorable and sexy all at the same time.

I wish that damn hand were bigger because I want nothing more than to launch myself up there and kiss her. I wonder if I sat higher up on the arm, if it could hold the weight of both of us. Before I can decide whether or not to chance it, bright lights wash over us, and I turn to see a campus cop car pulling up on the street below. He flashes his lights once and then puts the car into park.

“Shit. Time to go, Nell.”

Her eyes meet mine, all that earlier shy sensuality replaced by panic. I reach out and grasp her hand, pulling her out of the statue’s hand and onto the knee with me. I jump down to the base below and tell her to throw her legs over the side. I hear a car door open as I wrap my arms around her legs and help lower her to the base. I do the same thing to lower her to the ground, and by then the cop is heading for us.

I grab her hand and pull her into a run.

There’s a dirt jogging path cutting through the commons area, and I drag Nell onto it. Dust kicks up around our feet, and she’s wearing flip-flops that slow her down, but she doesn’t complain.

I can imagine that for a girl like Nell the thought of getting into trouble with a cop (even a campus cop) would feel like the end of the world. Which is why I refuse to let us get caught.

“Come on, babe. Little faster.”

She lets me tug her along, but I can tell she’s struggling, so when the jogging path curves, instead of following it, I pull her to the right and into a breezeway between two buildings. We move faster on the concrete, and in less than ten seconds we’re out the other side.

I lead her across the street, and we run under the lamplit sidewalk up and over a block until we hit the library. I slow us to a walk and guide her through the front door. I’m not sure if the cop is still chasing us, but if he is, I doubt he’d follow us in here. But just in case he does, the best thing for us to do is to blend in with a crowd.

Unfortunately, the library isn’t exactly hopping at midnight on a Wednesday. And I can admit, I’ve never actually set foot in this library myself, so I have no idea where to go. I’m about to pull us over between some bookshelves because I figure that’s better than nothing when Nell takes the lead, gesturing for me to follow her over to a bank of elevators.

I keep an eye on the front doors while we wait for the elevator, and just as it dings and we step inside, the campus cop comes through the front door.

Inside the elevator, I jab at the Door Close button.

“The cop just entered the building. I don’t think he saw me get in the elevator,” I say. “But we should find someplace out of the way or somewhere with people around until he gives up and leaves.”

“There’s usually a decent number of people in the lounge on the third floor this time of night. That’s where the best computers are. We can go there.”

She hits the button for three, and I just hope that I was right about the cop not seeing me. If he didn’t, he’ll likely be gone in a couple minutes. I mean, does he really have nothing better to do than chase us all over campus for climbing on a statue?

Scratch that. He is a campus cop, after all.

When the doors open, I follow Nell along a long hallway lined with offices into the main library area, and then to the right as she heads for a section with computers and comfy-looking furniture. We collapse onto a love seat, and Nell sinks back into the cushions, trying to contain her breathing. There are three people working on the computers, and one more sitting at a table reading a big textbook. Not exactly a crowd, but it should do just fine. And I still doubt that the cop will even search that hard. But I won’t take the chance . . . for Nell’s sake. I’ll never get her to do anything else on the list if I muck things up tonight.

We look at each other, and then we’re both laughing. Nell covers her mouth with her hand, trying not to make too much noise as her bright eyes meet mine.

Kiss her. Kiss her now
.

She leans her head back on the cushion, sighing as her laughter gives way to a few deep breaths. And the moment has passed. I’m not sure whether I’m proud or pissed at myself for resisting.

“Well . . . that was eventful,” I say.

“Seriously, if he’d caught us . . .”

“Oh, I was talking about you flashing me.”

She brings her fist down hard on my thigh, and I catch her hand.

“Easy. I’m kidding. Mostly. Okay, not at all. That black lacy thing you’re wearing is definitely still winning for most memorable part of the night.”

“Do you ever think about anything besides sex?”

She tries to tug her hand away, but I keep it trapped between mine and my thigh.

“Sure. I think about football. And food. But the rest of the time, I’m definitely thinking about your boobs.”

“Shhh! Be serious.”

“I would never joke about your tits, sweetheart. I take them
very
seriously.”

She glances around at the students working. “You’re going to get us in trouble. Again.”

I hear the elevator ding, signaling a car has just arrived on this floor, and we look at each other. What are the odds that someone other than the cop would be coming up here at this hour? Too slim to chance it.

“Go that way, back into the stacks,” I tell Nell, and in seconds we’re up off the love seat and making our escape. Her short legs move in a quick exaggerated walk, and her long hair bounces against her back with the movement. I glance behind us, but no one has exited the hallway yet.

We pass row after row, and it’s not lost on me where we are. I’d been joking when I teased her about the Sweet Six, but here we are, in the very spot I mentioned. The shelves are lined with old yearbooks, course catalogs, student manuals. There’s an entire section of old newspapers and documents, including the university’s original charter, displayed under a glass case. In other words, nothing that would interest a college student in the middle of the night unless he was looking for a deserted place to make out.

Nell makes a turn into one of the stacks about three-quarters of the way back, and before I follow her, I take one more glance back. Coming out of the elevator hallway are two Asian girls, whispering quietly, book bags slung over their shoulders. So not the cop, then. I relax, and then follow Nell only to find her leaning against one of the shelves, flipping through some old thick textbook. So I stand corrected. Of course, Nell can find something of interest everywhere.

I take a moment just to gaze at her. She seems absorbed in the book, but I’m not sure whether that’s real or just her playing a role in case the cop was to wander by. She’s wearing snug black yoga pants again and a baggy T-shirt. I love that she makes absolutely no effort to dress up for me. With Nell, you know exactly what you’re getting because she doesn’t see any need to mold herself into something she isn’t. And it doesn’t matter what she’s wearing because the image of what she looks like underneath is permanently burned into my mind.

I take the book from her hands and am about to tell her that it was a false alarm when a noise distracts me. A very
distinct
noise.

Breathy and low, it starts out as a little gasping mewl before progressing into a quiet moan. If Nell’s suddenly rigid posture is any indication, she hears it, too. I start to return the book to the shelves so we can leave, but Nell’s hand on my wrist stops me. Her eyes are focused directly on the opening on the shelf that the book had occupied. It’s level with her eyes, but is about midchest for me. I shift behind her, bend a little, and realize that she’s got a perfect view of the couple going at it the next row over.

I shove the book on top of another shelf where it doesn’t belong because this just got really fucking interesting. Nell’s body language is still stiff, but she’s holding her breath, her eyes glued to the gap between the books.

A lanky dude has a girl pushed up against the stacks, and they’re making out. Like really going to town. I can see the bulge of his hand beneath the girl’s shirt, kneading at her breast. I keep waiting for Nell to snap out of it. It’s like when you pass a car wreck, and you can’t help but look, but then immediately feel guilty for gawking. But the seconds keep passing, and she’s not reacting except to keep holding her breath. I lean down, planting my mouth next to her ear, and ask, “So you like to watch?”

She exhales heavily, and I think I’ve broken the spell, but then she leans back into me and gives this sort of half shrug, half nod.
Fuck.
There’s no freaking way I’ll be able to keep my hands off her now.

“So what does it for you?” I ask. “Is it just seeing them? Seeing how into it they are? Or is it the fact that they could get caught at any moment? That
we’ve
caught them, and they don’t even know it.”

She shrugs.

“Come on, girl genius. Tell me what it is. I need to know.”

Before she can answer, the girl on the other side of the stacks turns around, and the guy flips up her skirt, and that finally provokes a reaction in Nell. She spins sharply, pressing her back against the shelves, blocking the opening with her head. Her breaths come fast and frenzied now, and her expression is stuck somewhere between horror and humor.