“Shut the fuck up and play,” Luke growls.
Trent gives him a boyish smirk that goes straight to my core. When Trent looks down at me, an electric pulse dances along my skin, leaving a brush of fire in its wake. Trent and Luke play against each other, ignoring Zoe and me at their sides. It’s not like I care. If Trent wants to win, he has to take control.
Trent is light on his feet and quick to react for a big guy. He adapts to each change, determined to win as if he’s playing for an imaginary trophy. Men are so dumb with how they constantly need to compete against each other. To some extent, girls do the same, except we don’t show off our athleticism and rock-hard bodies to prove a point.
After Trent claims victory over Luke, he drops the striker on the table and throws his arms above his head. A childlike enthusiasm graces his face, along with an adorable smile, which causes me to do the same. He mouths off to Luke for a minute, bragging about his win before his hand cups my shoulder. Trent spins me around until we’re facing.
“We’re celebrating, Jemma with a J. I’m in the mood for ice cream.”
I laugh. “Are you joking?”
He smirks. “I never joke about ice cream.”
Chapter Eleven
Trent
Before entering the crowded hallway, I say my goodbyes to my friends. With my hand on her shoulder, I steer her toward the stairs.
“You don’t look like someone who eats ice cream,” she says condescendingly.
On my way to the cafeteria, I saw Jemma in the game room next to Oliver Fox. That bastard was too close to my girl. He saw him brush his lips on her ear, stroking her pale skin with his fingers. The jealous asshole inside me came out to play along with my competitiveness.
But at least it paid off.
We climb the stairs to the cafeteria.
I step to the side, allowing incoming traffic to pass, and I narrow my eyes at her. “Everyone likes ice cream.”
She shrugs as we walk into the cafeteria. “I just mean… you know, someone who looks like you wouldn’t eat something as fattening as ice cream.”
I tilt my head back and laugh, rubbing a hand over my stomach. “Don’t let this body fool you. Ice cream is one of my guilty pleasures.”
“What sport do you play?”
“Ice hockey.” I search her face, wondering how she hasn’t heard of the Kane twins. “You are new, huh?” Jemma nods, and I continue, “I’m used to everyone on campus already knowing who I am.”
It’s the truth. I can’t remember the last time a girl didn’t already know every dirty thing about me.
She clears her throat, pretending to choke as she rolls her eyes at me.
I rebound by adding, “That came out kind of douchey.”
She flashes a grin at me. “Okay, Mr. Popular.”
“I like having a fresh start with you,” I admit. “That’s what I meant. Everyone on campus already has preconceived ideas about me. But with you, I’m a blank slate.”
“So far, so good.”
“I like you, Jemma with a J.” I grab two cones at the end of the dessert line and look at her. “What flavor do you want?”
She brushes her red hair behind her ears, biting her bottom lip as if deep in thought. “Hmm… I’ll have the chocolate and vanilla swirl.”
“Excellent choice. It’s my favorite.”
I fill the cones and hand one to Jemma. She sticks out her tongue, giving the ice cream a few tentative licks that remind me of my wet dream. Like an idiot, I stand there and watch her eat. Dirty thoughts run through my head, and I can’t stop thinking about her tongue and how it felt when I kissed her.
She must see the desire on my face because she stops licking the ice cream. Her eyes find mine, a fire brewing in her green irises.
