Hooped #5 (The Hooped Interracial Romance Series #5) (4 page)

We broke up our study sessions into chunks, going over
parts of the test that Devon would have to take and then alternating with
different things I needed to study. Devon was great at coaching me through the
Chemistry material, and I even started to enjoy discussing the work for my
other classes with him, excitedly explaining things that I was starting to
understand. “I love the way your face lights up,” Devon told me one night that
week, smiling in a way that I was starting to think he only ever did with me.
“You’re like this enormous roman candle when you get excited, just shooting out
everywhere. It’s awesome.”

With every passing day, Devon got better and better in
his weak subjects, taking in the coaching I gave him and
applying
it with a focus that I knew had come
from years of getting better and better at basketball. “You know,” I told him
as I handed him a practice Reading section test, “
if
I
ever get my hands on the teachers that made you feel like you were stupid, I’m
going to end up in jail for assault and battery.” Devon laughed.

“It’s not their fault,” he told me, looking over the
scores I had marked. “I had already stopped taking school itself seriously by
the time they started giving up on me. It was mostly because I’d joke and fool
around in class that my teachers just figured they’d give me a passing grade
and have done with it.” I shook my head.

“Then I’m glad I’ve never been good at sports.” Devon
grinned, giving me a shove.

“I gotta admit I’m kind of glad too. You’re so smart
at everything—who would I have gotten to tutor me if I didn’t have you, babe?”

“Someone in one of the other frats,” I countered.

“Not as hot as you. Wouldn’t be nearly effective
enough.” I decided one night to try and make a game out of our session; for
every question that Devon got right on the English section of the practice test
I quizzed him from, I’d take off one item of clothing. For every answer he got
wrong, I put an item of clothing back on. Of course, Devon insisted that we
should keep going and going until I was almost fully naked, sitting on his bed
in
nothing more than my bra and panties. And
then, of course, we had to take a break—neither of us could focus on anything
academic until we’d both gotten off.

It wasn’t all either sex or studying between us;
throughout the week, I found myself spending more and more time just hanging
out with Devon. He told me about his family and his friends from high
school;
he told me about the guys in the frat,
and I told him about every little detail of my life that could possibly come
up. I cooked dinner for him one night before our study session, picking the
first dish my mother had ever taught me to cook, and Devon insisted to the rest
of the frat that he had the absolute best girlfriend that any guy could have on
campus: I was gorgeous, I was smart, I loved basketball, and I could cook.
Everyone else would just have to die of envy or hope I had relatives.

I loved the fact that Devon and I could do nothing
more than watch TV together and manage to have a good time; in the back of my
mind, in spite of the fact that I had chosen to trust him instead of Kelly, I
had thought that with a guy like Devon, we couldn’t possibly have much more
than sex and basketball in common. Instead, we were able to talk about anything
and everything, and even though I was getting less sleep than I ever had before
in my life, I woke up happy and content, wrapped in Devon’s arms, ready for
whatever the day might bring.

“You know,” I said, curled up in his arms one night as
we were both starting to fall asleep, “it’s kind of amazing how fast this
happened.” Devon nodded, his arms tightening around me slightly.

“I feel like I kept waiting for a reason to take my
life more seriously,” Devon told me sleepily. “Like I knew I should be focused
on getting good grades, doing the right thing… but it was too easy to just win
and get what I wanted.”

“And now?”

“Well, I met this awesome girl, and at first—I’ll
admit—I figured I’d just have a good time and then move on with my life. But
babe, as soon as I woke up and you weren’t in bed with me, I knew it had hit me
hard. I wanted to be around you—I wanted to keep you right here with me.”

“So sneaking out before you woke up was a great choice
then.” Devon chuckled, nuzzling against my neck.

“I think I would have felt that way even if you’d been
right there, but it definitely made me realize I was going to have to try way
harder with you.” He kissed me on the lips lightly. “When you kept brushing me
off—god, do you know how crazy that made me? I’d never been with anyone like
you before. I’m almost glad everyone told you terrible things about me and made
me work to earn your trust.”

“You’re secretly a masochist, is what you’re saying.
You wanted me to torture you.” Devon laughed in the darkness.

“I wanted to be worthy of you. And I still do.”

Chapter
Five

When Friday night came around, I found myself getting
ready for another Phi Kappa party; only this time instead of having to be
cajoled and persuaded to go to it by my friends. I was excited and even eager
to go—and it would just be downstairs from where I was getting ready. Devon
took a quick shower and changed, heading downstairs to the main part of the
house before I had even gotten out of class to help his frat brothers with
setting everything up. It surprised me, how much effort the Phi Kappa guys put
into their parties; in some part of my mind I had almost assumed that they
simply happened more or less spontaneously.

Instead, the guys were broken up into different
groups: a group to go and gather the various forms of alcohol that would be
served, a group to hit the local Costco and get snacks and other things for
people to eat, a decorating crew, and the people in charge of getting the word
out across campus that the party was happening and what time it would start.
The level of organization and planning that went into a frat party surprised
me, and I almost felt bad as I admitted to Devon that I had had no idea that
they put so much work into it. Devon laughed, tousling my hair and giving me a
quick kiss. “The whole point is to make it look effortless,” he told me. “So if
you never thought that we put any work into it, we were successful.”

I decided that while I wanted to look good—after all,
I had Devon’s looks to live up to, as his girlfriend—I didn’t need to go
overboard. It was just a party, after all. I took a shower when I got back to
the frat from my classes for the day, and went into Devon’s room, picking out a
cute dress that came down to a few inches above my knee, with a strappy top to
it. I dried my hair quickly, digging my blow dryer out of my suitcase. It was
the first time all week I had thought to use it, but I was grateful to have it.

With my dress and hair done, I did my makeup quickly,
putting on little more than it would take to emphasize my features: a little
blush, a little eye shadow, eye liner and mascara, and a lip stain so I
wouldn’t have to worry about re-applying lipstick all night. I put on some
stockings and ankle boots and decided that that was perfect. There wasn’t any
need for a fancy hairstyle, or an outfit that would call attention to my
assets; I already had a date to the party, and I knew who I was going to bed
with
that night.

I went downstairs just as the music started playing,
and wandered around the living room, smiling at the members of the frat who had
assembled there. Devon was helping someone finish putting some bunting up, but
the moment he was done with that he was at my side, his arm around my waist,
kissing me on the cheek. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were out to
catch you a guy tonight,” Devon murmured in my ear. I laughed.

“I’m just trying to look good enough to be your
girlfriend,” I told him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders.

“Like I said: if I didn’t know better.” Devon grinned
at me and kissed me on the lips, his hands wandering over my body just a little
bit.

People started to show up, coming into the frat house
in pairs and groups, and in what seemed like only a few minutes—though I
realized later it was about an hour—the whole frat was packed with people. Some
girls I knew had come out to
party
, and I
found myself chatting with them a little
bit,
though I didn’t leave Devon’s side to do so. Drinks began to flow, and Devon
put a cup of punch in my hands, nursing a beer of his own while we wandered
around, talking to people and just having a good time.

The experience was so different from the first party
I’d come to at the Phi Kappa house, that every so often as the night wore on, I
found myself actually surprised that I was in the same place. Where before I’d
been left behind by my friends on more than one occasion, this time I was never
once alone for the entire night; Devon didn’t act jealous or possessive, but he
never wandered from my side, either—and he kept an eye on me even when he was
talking to someone else.

The music got louder as more and more people started
coming into the party, all of them greeted with a drink of some kind from a
toga-clad Phi Kappa guy. Devon led me out onto the makeshift dance floor in the
living room and we moved together, laughing and kissing, just as though we’d
been dancing together for ages, as if we’d been a couple
for
years instead of a couple of weeks. I could
see the looks of envy from the other girls at the party; whatever hopes they
had of attracting his gaze away from me were utterly and completely destroyed,
as Devon kept his arms around me, his hands wandering over my body but not
quite groping me. We kept dancing until we were both drenched in sweat, moving
through one song after another, and I couldn’t remember being happier in my
entire life.

When we were both too hot and sweaty to want to keep
going, Devon led me into the kitchen and put another drink in my hand, leaning
in and kissing me lightly on the lips. “To think,” he murmured in my ear,
smiling against my skin. “I thought that it was so cool to party it
up as
a single guy. Much better this way.” I
laughed, giving him a playful shove and barely managing to keep my drink in my
cup.

“You met me at the last party,” I told him tartly.
“And you had a great time then.” Devon laughed, wrapping his arms around me and
holding me close.

“Yeah, well—it’s even better this time, so I don’t see
how you can possibly be all offended.” He nipped along the column of my
throat,
and I nearly dropped my drink, my
breath hitching in my throat. Devon pulled back and grabbed my hand, leading me
out of the kitchen and into the
backyard
.

We sat around outside together, sipping our drinks,
talking to everyone who came by. Devon made sure that everyone who asked him
about the test knew that it was me who was tutoring him, and that—in his opinion
at least—I was the best tutor on the planet, the smartest girl he had ever met.
The guys on his team, at the party in part to hang out with him and in part
because it was a Phi Kappa party, and therefore not to be missed, joked that I
would weaken his legs before the championship. No one doubted that Devon would
somehow find a way to play for the big game; no one doubted that he would be up
to peak still. But in spite of the jokes about me weakening Devon’s legs,
everyone on his team seemed glad that I was in Devon’s life. “You know, I think
you’ve steadied him a lot, already,” Miles told me, sitting sprawled out on a
lounge chair next to the one Devon and I shared.

“She did,” Devon agreed, giving my waist a squeeze. I
rolled my eyes.

“I still say that if Devon hadn’t wanted to steady
down and focus, I wouldn’t have had such a good influence on him.” Miles shook
his head.

“Nah, man. Devon never even thought about settling
down and getting serious about life until he met you. It’s all you, girl.” I
shook my head at the compliment, but it pleased me nonetheless. I loved that
not only had I been accepted as Devon’s girlfriend, but his friends and
teammates seemed to all like me. Nobody thought I was doing anything with Devon
or to him that he didn’t
need,
that
didn’t benefit him. For the whole night, as the party raged around us, Devon
and I were never apart for more than a few minutes; I only ever really left his
side to use the bathroom. Even as I talked to people around me, I was aware of
him close to me, the fact that he obviously enjoyed me having a good time.

After a while, I had exhausted my interest in talking
to anyone else, and Devon and I made our way back inside. For a few minutes, we
danced together again, slow and sweet, and I could remember only too well what
Devon looked like under his tee shirt and jeans, how it would look when he
stripped down. “I think you’re wearing exactly the same thing you were wearing
when I met you,” I commented to Devon. Devon chuckled.

“Did you only just notice that?” he asked me, his
voice low and almost purring, almost growling in my ear. “You’re slipping,
girl.” He kissed me hungrily, moving and swaying in the dance with me even as
he did, and after only a few moments I was totally disoriented—but I didn’t
care. I could feel the room moving around me with my eyes closed; feel Devon’s
hard, muscular body against mine. Everything was exactly the way it should be.
I was so happy, so comfortable, so contented.