“I’m this way.” I tilt my head to the brick building across the dead grassy area, but don’t take my eyes off of my coffee as I lift the lid and blow into it.
“Hey, isn’t that your little cutie from the other night?” I look up at Mav, confused. His eyes are focused on my building and I burn my tongue when I spot the girl from our party Saturday night. The same girl who kissed me. Correction, the same girl who saved my ass, because Hazel was too pissed off to look at me for the rest of the night. Unfortunately, it didn’t stop her from texting me the next day.
I watch the kissing bandit grab the giant brass handle to my building and head inside.
“Gotta go.” I take off across the lawn without waiting for his response.
LCU has been ranked the number one university in the state seventeen years in a row now and for good reason. Our sports teams are top tier, our campus looks like a fucking postcard, we have the best on-campus ice cream shop, andapparently, all the dorms have their own bathrooms. Even our classrooms are over the top.
I scan the dome-shaped room, already filled with students, but my intentions are set on only one. I have to sweep the room twice. If I hadn’t seen her walk in, I might have missed her. She’s hiding in the second to last row, in the furthest seat from the door, with a baseball hat pulled so low it covers the top half of her face. It doesn’t hide the two deep brown braids that flow down her back, though.
Between the way one of her legs is pulled up on her seat, and how her bag encroaches on the space next to her, she’s giving off a ‘don’t sit next to me. I bite,’ type of energy. So I tuck my hands into my pockets, smile to myself, and beeline it for the open seat next to her.
“First, you’re on my balcony and now you’re in my class, people are going to start to talk about us.” I assume by the way her hand stops writing that I’ve startled her, but she doesn’t look at me, so I continue. “So, Entertainment Journalism? I’m personally only taking this class to guarantee a spot in her Sports Journalism course next semester. Do you think I’ll get a pass on the whole needing to volunteer for a sports team considering I’m the captain of one?” Her writing resumes, and she continues to act as if I’m not here, which, unfortunately for her, only encourages me to push harder. “Did you have a nice weekend? Get some relaxation in? Get a jump start on classes? Kiss any boys?”
“You know there’s no award given for the highest word count spoken before seven a.m. right?”
“Is there an award for being the most reluctant to talk?”
That gets a reaction from her. Unfortunately, it’s an icy side glare and not a friendly one.
“Okay.” I scoot my chair closer to her, catching a hint of her vanilla and citrusy scent. “I think we might have gotten off on the wrong foot. Let’s start over. Hi.” I extend my handto her with my signature, never-fails-to-impress smile. “I’m Noah Kingston.”
Her eyes flick to my hand and then back to my face, but I think the annoyance in them has started to soften.
“This is the part where you say, ‘lovely to meet you, Noah. My name is…’”
“I already told you, my name isn’t important to you.”
“Because I play hockey?”
She turns her attention back to her paper. “You learn fast, young padawan.”
I should probably shut my mouth, right myself in my seat, and let it go. If I were another man, I would probably move to the opposite side of the room and try and forget this girl who clearly wants nothing to do with me, but that’s not my style. Her quick wit only intrigues me more.
“What’s your beef with hockey players?”
“I don’t havebeef.” She mocks me. “I’m just not interested in them.”
“And why is that?”
Her eyes roll back and a slightly aggravated groan sounds from her throat before she shifts her attention to me. She studies my face for a moment before speaking. “Look, it’s nothing…personal.I’ve been around guys like you my whole life, and I’m just not interested.”
I briefly wonder what she means by ‘guys like me’ but she continues. “Plus, you all stink.”
An unexpected laugh sneaks out of me. “What?”
“Yeah, you all smell like grilled onions.”
My jaw drops in mock offense. “You think I stink?” I dip my nose to my shoulder. “There’s no way.”
I know our gear could make an animal fall over dead but most of us scrub our skin raw to make sure we don’t carry any of that smell around with us.
A ghost of a smile teases her lips before she inhalesslightly. “Okay, fine. At this exact moment… maybeyoudon’t stink. But you’re the exception.”
“Oh, I am.” I lean in closer to her seat. “In every way.”
Her brown eyes narrow at me, contemplating maybe. I’m not sure, but I hold her stare all the same.
