King of Campus (34 page)

“I know.”  Jillian smiles sweetly before her eyes arrow right back to mine. Her lip curls up with distain. “I seriously have no idea what he sees in you.  I mean, you’re flat as a board.”  Arching a brow, she looks as though she’s considering something.  “Well, you must give one hell of a blow job.”  Then she shrugs her shapely shoulders.  “Enjoy him while you can, honey, it won’t last long.  In case you haven’t noticed, Roan likes to spread himself around.”

Lexie snorts.  “You would know all about that.  You like to spread yourself equally thin.”

Jillian shoots Lexie a death glare before the three girls finally stalk away. I realize as I watch them go, that I’m actually shaken by the confrontation.  I’ve never experienced anything like it before.  I also realize that a few people have stopped to watch the encounter as well.  They’re whispering to one another as my wide eyes stare blindly around me.

Feeling utterly humiliated, I grab Lexie’s arm before towing her towards the parking lot where her car is located.

“Hey, I thought we were grabbing lunch at the caf?”

I shake my head.  My appetite has just pulled a disappearing act.  All I want right now is to get off this damn campus and away from the constant glare of the spotlight.  For god’s sake, it’s not even a spotlight that’s shining down on me.  This girl came after me because I’m with Roan.

Unbelievable.

“Let’s just go somewhere else.”

Understanding instantly floods through her.  “Yeah, sure.”  We find her little silver Jetta before pulling open the doors.  Slumping onto the front seat, I throw my messenger bag into the back before finally turning towards Lexie who is staring sympathetically at me.

“What in the hell was that?”  I finally ask before shaking my head.  “Did that seriously just happen?”  Because I can’t believe it did.  I’ve never had a problem with anyone before.  And I really do try to treat people the way I would want to be treated.  That’s one of the lessons my mother taught me and I try not to ever forget it.

That girl-
Jillian-
had a shitload of nerve marching up to me and saying something so unbelievably rude.  She doesn’t even know me.  She doesn’t know
anything
other than the fact that Roan has taken an interest in me.  And apparently, for that very reason, she’s decided to dislike me.  I can’t get over how childish that is.  In all honesty, Jillian is gorgeous.  Way more beautiful than I’ll ever be.  She probably has legions of men trailing after her.  And yet she wants one who isn’t interested.

Lexie blows out a long slow breath before finally saying, “Look, Jillian is nothing more than a skanky whore who has a massive hard-on for Roan.  When I started hanging out with Dylan and Roan second semester last year, she was always hovering around him.”  Lexie rolls her eyes.  “I think she’d blow him in front of a room full of people just so he’d give her the time of day.”

That thought actually makes me physically sick to my stomach.  I can’t imagine feeling so desperate for someone’s attention that I would disrespect myself like that.  I can’t help but feel sorry for her.  For the low self-esteem and self-worth she obviously struggles with.

Something tightens in the pit of my belly as I slowly force out the words, “So she’s been with him?  He’s had sex with her?”

Lexie eyes me for a long silent moment before admitting, “Yeah, he has.”

Of course he has…  I stare up at the creamy white interior of her car because I don’t know what else to do.  Is this what I’m now going to have to put up with?  These jealous women seeking me out, telling me to my face that I’m not good enough for him?  I’m almost embarrassed when I feel the hot sting of tears prick the back of my eyes.

Damn it!

Lexie reaches out, rubbing my arm gently.  “She’s a spiteful bitch, Ivy.  Don’t pay any attention to her.”

I huff out a shaky little laugh.  “Well, that’s a little hard to do when she’s all up in my face, spewing her garbage.”

“I know.”  She sighs, “I went through a little bit of that last year when I got together with Dylan.  After a while, it died down and then it wasn’t such a big deal.”

“I really like him.”  The words slip easily off my tongue before I can think better of it.

She gives me a small smile. “I know you do, sweetie.”

Rolling my head to the side, my eyes lock on hers.  “He’s not the asshole jock I thought he was.”  Actually, he’s not an asshole at all.

Her lips curve upwards just a bit.  “No, he’s not.  I think it’s just,” her words falter for a moment before she continues, “I think it’s just his way of dealing with all the attention.  I mean, you’ve seen the way people are constantly following him around, talking to him.  And the girls… there’s certainly no shortage of them.  They’re always throwing themselves at him.  Whether he wants them to or not.”

“Yeah, I know.”

In that moment I realize that all Jillian whoever-the-hell-she-is wants from Roan is the status and attention that comes from being linked to a guy like him.  It’s appalling just how many mercenary bitches out there want him simply for what he can do for them.

It makes me sick.

And angry.

I honestly don’t give a shit that Roan plays football.  I’ve never cared about it.  In fact, I think I’d actually like him more if all this fame or whatever-the-hell-it-is wasn’t attached to him.  It’s really pathetic that no one else seems to feel the same way.

When I look at him now, I finally feel like I see the real Roan King.

The man beneath all the hype and bullshit.

I see the guy who drove me two and a half hours home and spent the entire day with my family, people he didn’t even know.  I see the guy who made sure I was okay because he understood how difficult the situation was for me.  It’s the same guy who wants to make sure we actually get to know one another before finally having sex.  I see a guy who was able to move past his own prejudices and stereotypes to eventually change his notions about what a father needs to be.

The Roan King I’ve fallen for has absolutely nothing to do with football or the NFL.  He’s smart and caring underneath all that protective armor he wears.  And I’m starting to understand just why he has to protect himself the way he does.

The guy I’ve gotten to know over the past month is someone I’ve actually come to care about.  I just wish everyone else could look past the pretty exterior to see the guy beneath all the football hype.  Because he’s a really great guy.  One worth knowing.

It’s quietly that Lexie finally asks, “Does this change the way you feel about him?”

Taking a deep breath, I force the words out slowly.  “Yeah, I think it actually does.”

Sounding somewhat deflated, she admits, “Being with an athlete isn’t for everyone.  It’s definitely not as easy as people seem to think it is.”

Shaking my head, I realize she’s totally misunderstood what I meant.  “No, it actually makes me want him more because it seems like I’m the only one who wants him for who he is.  And not all the bullshit that comes from being with him.”

A proud smile blooms its way across Lexie’s pretty face.  “Now that’s the girl I know!”  She gives me a little wink.  “Those bitches aren’t going to know what hit them.”

Well… I don’t know about that, but sure… why not?

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Roan King wandering around the fine arts building???  What’s up with that?  Hmmm… I can only imagine what he’s doing there.  I have the sneaking suspicion that a certain dancer has something to do with this... KingOfCampus.com

Roan

Even though this is my fourth year attending Barnett, it’s the first time I’ve ever stepped foot inside the fine arts building.  Ivy said she needed to stay late and work with one of her professors on a solo she’s preparing for a show at the end of first semester.  I thought I’d meet her so we could head back to the apartment together.  I hate the idea of her walking alone.

I head towards room 105… or maybe it’s a studio.  I have no clue.  All throughout the corridor there are framed photos of dancers.  All of the women are long and lean with builds that are similar to Ivy’s.  The men are muscular but not in a bulky, football-player-type of way.  For just a moment I stop and study one of the posters.

Is this the kind of guy Ivy usually goes for?

Some artistic, scarf wearing, murse carrying dude who will cry at a foreign film?

The idea of having to sit through some horrendously boring movie with subtitles sends chills scampering right down my spine.  Okay… let me just say that I did happen to catch
Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon
and that had subtitles, but it was the kick ass fight scenes that got me through it.

And if you actually suggest a
murse
or a scarf, I’ll pop you right in the nose.  I’m not kidding about that either.

Hey, it’s not like I don’t have a soft side... because I do.  But Ivy’s the only one who has ever taken the time to unearth it.  Which only makes me like her more.

Moving on, I continue walking down the long corridor.  I feel comfortable just about everywhere I go on campus.  But here, in this building, I feel strangely out of place.  As I pass by a group of people, their eyes flicker towards me but there’s zero recognition on their faces as they continue talking.  It’s like I’m just an ordinary dude here.

Sure, it’s a little strange but not wholly unwelcome.  Shoving my hands deep inside my pockets, I keep moving until I find the studio she’s practicing in.  It’s the only lighted room in a hall full of closed doors.

As I get closer, I hear the music before I actually see her.  My breath catches in the back of my throat as she soars gracefully through the air, legs stretched out perfectly straight. Landing on her toes, she tumbles into a somersault before leaping up.  Her left leg swings out in back of her and then suddenly she’s spinning.  Doing something where her upper body arrows towards the floor while one leg is held perfectly straight, pointed towards the ceiling.

I seriously can’t help the way my heart spasms as I continue watching her dance.  She’s unbelievably graceful.  The way she’s able to move and contort her body almost defies logic.  The music comes to a close and I almost clap my hands together when a man suddenly begins speaking.

“That was very good, Ivy… very good.  But there is still room for improvement.  You need to extend your lines on your Jeté entrelacé.”

Emerging from the shadows where I couldn’t see him before, he moves towards Ivy, who now stands in the middle of the room.  She looks as though she’s breathing hard.  Her arms are settled on her narrow hips as she watches him.  And just like the posters and photos lining the corridor, this guy is muscular in a way that isn’t bulky.

“Attitude devant.”

Right away, Ivy goes up onto the toe of one foot while elevating her other leg about waist high but bent at the knee.  Her other arm is raised above her head.  She holds the position as the dude… I’m guessing her professor, runs his hand slowly over the muscles of her rigidly held leg.

“Remember not to overextend.”  Moving her leg just a fraction, he then holds it in place.  “See?  Better.  Much better.”

As his hand falls away, I realize my entire body has tensed.  He gives her a few more instructions before sauntering back into the shadows of the room where I can no longer see him.  Ivy goes to her toes before extending her arm over her head and lifting her leg again in the same position as before.

“Perfect,” he calls out.  She breaks the pose before throwing a smile in his direction.

I can’t help but clear my throat.  Even though she’s not facing me, her eyes arrow immediately to my reflection in the mirror.  Holding up a hand, I give her a hesitant wave.  Her whole face breaks into a gorgeous smile and I can’t help the little shiver that slides its way through me.

Holy shit.

I’m in deep with this girl.

I almost snort because that is such a pussy understatement to make.  Meeting Ivy has been like being hit with a two by four across the back of my skull.  And I’ve been trying to shake my head clear ever since.

With an amazing amount of polish, she pads over to me before reaching up on her toes to give me a quick kiss on the lips.  I want nothing more than to haul her close but I’m all too aware of the guy watching us from the corner of the room.  My eyes slice to his.  I have to admit, he doesn’t look particularly interested in what we’re doing.  Although there’s a hint of amusement on his face.

“Just let me grab my bag and we can take off.”

I give her a quick nod before she runs over to the mirrored wall where her bag is lying on the wooden floor.  She gives the guy, who honestly doesn’t look more than twenty-eight, a quick wave before saying, “Thanks so much for the help, Eric.”

“Anytime.  You have amazing potential.  You just need to keep working at it.”

She gives him another grin and I find I’m almost jealous that he’s able to coax a smile like that so easily from her.  Which is totally ridiculous, I know.  Trust me, I know it is.  The funny thing is that I’ve never felt this way about a girl before.  Protective.  Jealous.  Needy.  I’ve never really allowed myself to develop these kinds of feelings.