Page 4 of Trick Play
So I don’t notice the wall of giant men off to the side of the walkway except as a barrier between me and my destination—Kent Hall, where Anthropology meets every Tuesday and Thursday.
The professor is full of fascinating stories, none of which have anything to do with what’s on the test. Which makes attending class feel almost like a pointless exercise, but hey, it’s ninety minutes twice a week dedicated to reading the textbook so I know the answers to the questions that actually will be on the test. And if I get through with the reading for Anthropology, I can always bust out the textbook for my Poli Sci class, because Dr. Presley doesn’t pay much attention to what any of us are doing as long as we’re not being disruptive.
It’s not until a voice calls my name that I slow, lifting my head and looking around, the wind whipping my hair around my face. I foolishly wore it down today.
And here’s another poor choice—stopping at the sound of my name. Because while the voice sounds familiar, it belongs to someone who I definitely don’t want to see.
Cal McAdam.
I cross my arms and cock my hip, adjusting my backpack on my shoulder as I watch him jog up to me in easy strides, his normally tousled blond hair covered by a beanie that I’m irrationally jealous of, his Marycliff Football jacket pressed against his broad torso by the wind. He just looks sowarm. And part of me wants to snuggle up next to him, let him wrap those strong arms around me and block the wind with those shoulders. But no, no, that’s a terrible, terrible idea. I mean, the warmth and windbreak would be lovely, don’t get me wrong, but knowing it would only encourage him makes it bad. Except I stopped to let him talk to me, which is all the encouragement he seems to need.
“Hey,” he says, his perfect lips curling in a sinful smile that Iknowhe’s perfected over the years with the sole aim of turning girls into a messy puddle of arousal. He’s several inches taller than me, but since my brother’s a giant, I’m used to guys towering over me. I’m almost eye level with his mouth, and I can’t help thinking how easy it would be to kiss him. All I’d have to do is lift my face, maybe press up on my toes, and he’d only have to bend a little bit.
But I blink rapidly, dispelling that image from my mind. The cold must be messing with my brain, because kissing Cal McAdam is nowhere on the list of possibilities. Even if I wanted to date somebody—which I absolutely don’t have time for since I’m currently taking twenty-one credits, much to my advisor’s dismay, so I can try to get out of here sooner than later. Since my parents forced me to withdraw from SCU mid-spring semester, I’m way behind. My entire goal in high school was to get out of this town and explore the wider world. That hasn’t changed. But even if I had time to date, I definitely wouldn’t date someone like Cal.
At least that’s what I keep trying to tell myself, because with him standing in front of me smiling like that, I’m having a hard time remembering all of those things.
“Hey,” I return, my tone deliberately flat and unencouraging.
Which only makes his smile grow bigger in his tan face, his cheeks a little red from the cold wind. Uh-oh. Is he one of those guys who thinks a girl’s disinterest is a challenge to be conquered? I can’t decide if that makes me dislike him more or worried I won’t be able to resist for long.
His ocean blue eyes roam over my face as he stuffs his hands in his pockets. “You headed to class?”
I nod, turning as I check the time on my phone. “Yup. And if I don’t hurry, I might be late. Good to see you!”
He jogs a couple of steps to catch up with me. “Where you headed? I’ll walk with you.”
I glance at him, fighting back a smile. “What if I’m going in the opposite direction of where you need to go?”
“I’ve got time,” he answers with a shrug.
“I don’t, though.” I do my best to make my voice as firm and discouraging as possible. “I’ve got a full class load, and it’s freezing out here, and I don’t really feel like making small talk with a random dude bro on my way to class. So thanks for the offer, but I’ll pass.”
“What about later?” he asks, as persistent as ever. “I can get you a hot chocolate after class to help you warm up.”
I shake my head. “I have another class after this one. Back to back until dinner.”
“Dinner, then,” he offers, still full of confidence despite me shooting him down twice already. “Anywhere you want. My treat.”
I toss him an amused look, almost tempted to say yes, the possibilities of where I’d want to have dinner ticking through my mind. “I mean, you’re asking me on a date, so I’d hope it’d be your treat.” But I shake my head. “I can’t.” It’s Thursday. That means weekly dinner with my parents. Even if I wanted to say yes to Cal, I can’t. I speed up, the door to Kent Hall only a few feet away, and wave over my shoulder. “Thanks, anyway.”
Once I’m inside, out of the wind and the cold and away from the weight of Cal’s gaze, I stop and take a deep breath. That was close. Because I know the next thing out of his mouth would be an invitation to dinner tomorrow night, or whenever I am available. And then I’d have to just … tell him no. And for some reason, whether it’s the sad puppy-dog look he pulls off far too well that I did my best to ignore or the effect that smile of his has on me, I’m not sure if I could make myself do that.
But guys like Cal lose interest quickly. Even if he sees me as a challenge right now, I only have to resist or stay busy—which isn’t difficult, given my schedule—long enough for him to move on to more receptive targets.
And that thought doesn’t at all make me sad or disappointed. Not even kind of. Because, like I keep reminding myself, I don’t have time for any guy, and especially not a guy like Cal.
CHAPTER THREE
Cal
I stand frozen to the spot where Piper shot me down, not once, not twice, but three times. In a row. What is going on?
Simon bumps my shoulder with his fist, a chuckle underlying his words. “Dude. What was that?”
I shake my head, wondering the same thing. “I’m not sure.” I mean, it’s not like this is the first time a girl’s turned me down. It’s not. But itisthe first time in a while. And none of the girls who turned me down before stared at my mouth with the kind of naked hunger I saw on Piper’s face. I stare at the door where she disappeared, ignoring the wind trying to freeze off the tip of my nose, and try to figure out what went wrong.
Is this another test? Or is she really not interested? But if she’s not interested, why would she even stop to let me catch up to her. And she looked at me like she wanted to kiss me. I wasn’t imagining that. So what’s stopping her from letting me buy her a hot chocolate?
