King of Campus (6 page)

And yeah, just in case you’re wondering, he smells damn near edible.

I grit my teeth together trying my damnedest to ignore him.  But it’s impossible.  I’m hyperaware of his powerful body shifting next to mine.

Damn him, damn him, damn him…

“So, about today…”

His breath feathers softly against the delicate shell of my ear.  A slight shiver works its way through me.  For goodness sake, I can’t even tolerate the guy.  Why is my body reacting to him like this?  It’s completely aggravating.  The absolute last thing I want is to feel attracted to him.

But I do.

Unwilling to look his way, I continue staring straight ahead.  “Let’s just forget it ever happened.”

Because the alternative is to talk about it in a car full of people.  Umm, no thank you.

“Are you sure?”  Even though I don’t make eye contact, he sounds dubious. Like maybe I’m trying to pull a fast one on him and he’s smart enough not to fall for it.

“It’s already forgotten,” I mutter under my breath.

And yes, I am a big fat liar pants because I will
never
forget what he was rude enough to say to me.  One of my worst qualities is that I have a hard time letting things go.  But it doesn’t really matter because we aren’t going to be friends.  As far as I’m concerned, Roan King doesn’t exist.

Something finally settles within me as I reassure myself with those comforting thoughts.

A moment later, I feel the firm pressure of his fingers as they brush against my shoulder closest to Sam.  The reverberation of it arrows right down to my nether regions.  Unconsciously my thighs clench as something suspiciously similar to desire floods through me.

Son of a-

Snapping my head in his direction, I hiss, “
What do you think you’re doing
?”

One side of his mouth slowly slides its way upward.  “Nothing.”

Pressing my lips into a thin tight line, I give him a murderous glare before turning away.  But his fingers don’t budge from my shoulder.  Not one damn bit.  They’re still there, softly strumming over me.  I can feel the tips of them though the thin top I’m wearing.

And it’s all but driving me crazy.

This car ride feels excruciating, like it’s going to last forever.  I seriously need to get away from this guy.  I’m almost to the point of telling Dylan to pull over so I can just jump out and walk the rest of the way.

Clearing my throat, I angle my body towards Sam.  Because I’m squashed against Roan, my barely-there-boob grazes his chest in the process which has the bud instantly tightening in response to the contact.  My gaze immediately flies to his to see if he’s noticed.

I’m really hoping he hasn’t…

His blue-green colored eyes are already latched onto mine when our gazes finally collide.

Yep… the boob graze has not gone unnoticed.

Grrrr.

I just can’t win today. I really should have stayed home and skipped the party.  Going out was a huge mistake.  I give him another icy glare before my gaze swivels to the guy on my other side.

“So, Sam, you’re a senior, too?”

His eyes swing to mine before flickering towards Roan who is now seated behind me since I have turned my body completely away from him.  Although his damn hand is still on my shoulder and no amount of shrugging it off has dislodged it.  I’m still very aware of him.  I don’t think I’ve ever been more hyperaware of anyone in my entire life.  And I certainly don’t want to think about the reasons for that either.

“Yep,” he answers rather succinctly before turning back towards the window.

Seriously?

That’s it?

Can’t this guy work with me for just a few minutes?

Hoping to draw him out, I ask about something I care nothing about.  “And you play football with Dylan?”  I’m pretty sure that’s what Dylan mentioned earlier.  Sheesh.  I’m working way too hard for this.

This time, he doesn’t even bother glancing my way.  “Yep.”

Feeling exasperated, I find myself snapping before I can stop the words from flying out of my mouth, “You’re a man of few words, aren’t you, Sam.”  It’s not even a question.  More of a frustrated observation.

His deep blue eyes jerk back to mine before narrowing.  Just when I think he’s going to turn away from me yet again, he finally cracks just a hint of a smile.  And I realize in that moment that he’s rather good looking.  Dirty blond hair with just a bit of curl to it, ocean blue colored eyes and a muscular body that has been honed from years of football practice and working out.  Amusingly enough, I think I would have realized it sooner except it’s kind of hard to notice anyone else when Roan is in the vicinity.  It must suck being his wingman.

“No, not really.”

A small smile touches my own lips in response.

Finally.

We’re actually getting somewhere here.

Again his eyes slide over my shoulder before the smile disappears and he silently turns back to the window.

I’m just about to question what the hell is going on when Dylan pulls the truck over to the curb.  Feeling damn near ecstatic that we’re finally parking, my eyes sweep the immediate vicinity.  People are scattered all over the sidewalk in big groups.  Down the block is apparently where everyone is headed because the house in question looks to be already bursting at the seams with people.  The front lawn is overflowing as college students spill onto the sidewalk and street.  Already I can hear the low bass of the music as it pumps from the open windows.

Maybe, just maybe, Lexie was right.  There are so many people here, there’s no way I’ll run into Roan again for the rest of the evening.  Since Sam is sitting on the side next to the curb, I slide towards him.  I’m actually a little surprised when his hand reaches in to help me exit the truck.  As soon as my feet are safely planted on the green grass beneath me, Sam immediately lets go of my hand.

“Thanks.”

Our eyes lock and hold for just a moment as he gives me another small crooked smile along with a quick nod before the five of us head up the sidewalk towards the party.  Lexie and Dylan are ahead of me and Sam is right behind them.  I’m about to hasten my step when a heavy arm is slung across my shoulders all but halting my progress.  The little zing of electricity that races through me only adds to my growing annoyance.

Is this guy for real?

Doesn’t he get the hint that I’m not interested in becoming one of his slutty little groupies?  What do I need to do?  Send him a notarized letter?

“What are you doing?”

He gives me a brilliant smile before stating the obvious.  “Walking with you.”

I give a pointed look to his massive arm draped across me. 
Again
.  “Is it possible for us to walk to the party without you accosting me along the way?”

His grin broadens and something unwanted pings in the bottom of my belly.  I don’t like the way he makes me feel.  Especially since I don’t even like the guy.  Someone needs to inform my body that we’re not supposed to be getting turned on by him.

“I’m not accosting you.  Merely trying to make nice with my new neighbor.”

I try wiggling out from under his arm but it’s impossible.  It’s like he’s anchored himself to my side and no amount of fighting it helps to free me from him.  The fact I’m trying rather desperately to get away has him chuckling right before he hauls me even closer to his big body.  The woodsy scent of his cologne assaults my senses.  Without realizing it, I inhale another lungful before my eyes actually drift shut to savor it.

Could I seriously be more pathetic?

Don’t think so…

“I taste even better than I smell.”

My eyes fly open when I hear those huskily murmured words right next to my ear.  His eyes are sparkling with both mischief and humor and I suddenly realize he’s teasing me.  Instead of acting all pissy and bitchy, I decide to just roll with it and not let him ruin my night.

I have no doubt what he’s saying is absolutely true.  But I have zero interest in finding out first hand.

Oh, who am I kidding?

Of course I want to find out if he tastes as delicious as he smells but I’m smart enough to know when not to play with fire and Roan King is a veritable house set ablaze.  I would only hate myself in the morning for hooking up with a guy who is nothing more than a womanizing man whore.  It’s almost a certainty that he would immediately forget I even existed and I’d be nothing more than one of his pathetic fangirls kicked to the curb.

No thanks.

I need to treat Roan like he’s one big walking venereal disease.

Because for all I know, he is.

He’s probably slept his way through most the girls at Barnett already.  And he’ll be busy working his way through the rest this year.  I’ve never been one of those girls and I’m certainly not going to start being one now… even though he’s tempting as hell.  I almost cringe as that thought rolls through my head.

“I’m surprised you can walk upright with such a massive ego.”

A huge grin lights up his face.  “Don’t kid yourself, sweetheart, that’s not the only massive thing about me.  And I walk around with both just fine.”

So damn cocky.

I can only shake my head before rolling my eyes.

Let’s see- so far he’s called me gorgeous, babe, and now sweetheart.

So typical…

I can’t resist asking, “Do you even know my name?”  Because I’m sure this guy doesn’t bother learning any girl’s name.  I mean, why should he?

Before I can crank myself up, he says rather simply, “Ivy.”

Completely shocked, my gaze flies to his.  He holds it with those gorgeous blue-green colored depths as a smirk settles over his lips.

His eyes take on a sly, knowing look.  “Didn’t think I knew it, did you?”

“Nope.” 

His arm tightens around me a bit more.  “I did a little recon.”

This surprises me even more.  I’m almost afraid to ask...  “And what exactly did you find out?”

“Let’s see… you studied abroad in Paris last year and you’re into dance.”  Heat flares within his eyes as they slowly slide their way down my body.  “Can’t deny that I wouldn’t mind getting a private lap dance sometime.”

My mouth tumbles open.  Before I can even summon the words to blast him with, he continues, “And you’re double majoring in dance and business.”

Well color me stunned.

And slightly frightened.

My eyes narrow.  “Why?”

He quirks a brow like he doesn’t quite understand the question.

With my mind whirling, it’s slowly I ask, “Why would you bother finding out anything about me?”

His eyes ensnare mine as we continue walking down the sidewalk.  Instead of looking at where I’m going, my head is turned and I’m staring at Roan.  Which is almost like staring straight at the sun.  It kind of hurts my eyes. I know there are tons of people surrounding us, jostling past us, laughing and talking, but I’m not aware of them at all.  I wish it was the jetlag that had me feeling so befuddled but I know damn well it’s not.

It’s Roan freaking King.  My confusion can be laid entirely at his feet.

It’s actually a relief when he shrugs those amazingly broad shoulders.  “Just curious about my new neighbor.”

Slowly I blow out the breath that has become lodged in my throat.  A little curiosity is fine.  Anything else would be damn scary.  Not to mention disastrous.

As we finally reach the front porch, people suddenly seem to realize that the King of Barnett has decided to grace them with his esteemed presence and we’re descended upon by at least a dozen fans.  Back slaps, fist bumps, people clamoring for his attention as if his popularity or football prowess will somehow rub off on them.  The guy is like a one man circus sideshow act or something.

I take this as the perfect opportunity to get the hell away from him and find Lexie who has already disappeared inside the house.  Since I don’t want to lose her, I hustle my ass through the front door.  As I do, I can’t help but toss a quick glance over my shoulder. Roan has been all but swallowed up by his frenzied crowd of admirers.

It’s actually a relief to get away from him.

At least that’s what I keep telling myself as I maneuver my way through the front hall.

Pushing Roan from my mind for what feels like the billionth time today, I search the jam packed living room for Lexie.  I’m just starting to wonder if I’m ever going to find her when I catch sight of her fiery auburn hair which is piled high on top of her head in a messy bun.

After a few minutes of pushing and shoving, I grab hold of her arm to get her attention.  She turns to me with a beer in each hand.

“Double fisting it already?”  Hell, if anyone should be double fisting it for having a lousy day, it’s me.

“Nope, sharing one with my bestie,” she says right before handing me a red plastic Solo cup filled with frothy golden liquid.

With the amount of people crammed inside this house, not to mention the ones outside, I have to admit I’m fairly impressed with her beer retrieval skills.  “You certainly work fast.”