by Amy L. Gale
Hate to break it to him but Newton got these laws completely wrong. No matter how much I try to exert the opposite force, my body flips everything around and I’m drawn to Dean like two magnets with opposite charges. Guess that’s where the whole opposites attract thing comes into play. Now, if I can only find a way to fight it.
Dean’s sculpted bicep dance as he glides his pen down my test extracting wrong answers on his way. I shift my focus to his rock-hard pecs and continue to gaze at his chiseled jawline, leading to his soft pink lips sporting a natural pout. I’ve got no chance in hell of passing this test let alone getting a 90%.
I shake my head and jolt myself back into reality. “Yeah, it sounds like gibberish to me. No idea what he’s trying to say.”
He nods and bites his lip. “Let’s try something.”
Oh god, this could be dangerous. He moves forward and leans in, moving closer toward me. A jolt of adrenaline rushes through my veins and my heart pounds against my chest. I close my eyes and lean toward him. “What do you have in mind?”
He holds his arms out and presses his palms against my shoulder, nudging me backward. “For every action, there’s action, an equal and opposite reaction.”
I hold out my hands and push against his rock-hard chest. Maybe I actually have a chance of acing the next test if this is what studying entails.
He slides his hands down my arm to my wrist, lightly touching my fingers as he moves away. “There you have it, Newton’s third law.”
“Impressive.” I catch my lip in my teeth and muffle a smile.
Hmm. Didn’t expect quite so much hands-on work. Not that I’m complaining. I loosen my muscles and let my hands relax, grazing Dean’s pecs as I pull my fingers away. My lips part and my heart flutters as my eyes take in the curves of his torso against his thin, long-sleeved T-shirt. I bet he does wonders for that baseball uniform. He’s becoming more impressive with every passing second. Now, if I could just convince my brain that we’re only friends and this is nothing more than a run of the mill tutoring session. Yeah, right. If I can convince myself that’s true, I might as well take a shot at curing cancer.
I poke my head between the shoulders of the line of people in front of me. Megan Teller flings her hair over her back, hitting me smack dab in the face. I flinch. Hope this isn’t an indicator of how my day is destined to go. The crowd finally dissipates leaving a few stragglers in front of me, blocking my view.
I turn sideways and slither between a small grouping of bodies. Fingertips graze my cheek and grip my shoulder. What the hell is happening? I gasp and whip my head around.
“Grades are posted. What’s the verdict?” Dean bites at his lip and nods toward the bulletin board.
“If someone didn’t yank me away, we’d already know.” I step forward and peruse the bulletin board, running my finger over the list categorized by the last four digits of our social security numbers. I stop at 0723, my last four digits, and move my finger across the paper to the grade. I open my eyes at a snail’s pace and focus on the number before me. Oh my god, a 94%.
I jump back and turn toward Dean, covering my mouth with my hand. He raises his shoulders and holds out his hands.
I drop my hand to my side and flash an ear to ear grin. “94.”
He lunges forward and picks me up, twirling me around for a second, then slowly sets me back on my feet. I stare, lost in his mesmerizing gaze. He leans closer, his nose lightly sliding over mine. My heart rate rivals the gallop of a racehorse. His lips move closer to mine.
A loud thump echoes through the hallway pulling me out of the moment. I step back, creating some much needed distance between us. What just happened? I look down at my physics book lying on the dark tile opened up to the chapter on the laws of attraction.
I take a deep breath and try to return my heart rate to an acceptable level. Fidgeting with my fingers, I quickly take the book and slide it back in my back pack, zippering it tightly.
Dean runs his hand through his hair and slides on his black stocking cap. “Mission accomplished.” He flings his black backpack over one shoulder. “Wildcats at eight?”
I run my finger along the base of my neck and reach down for my backpack. “Huh?”
“Remember, our wager. Time to knock back a few and celebrate.”
I’ve got to stop getting myself into these arrangements. Hanging out at Wildcats is almost as bad as going to a frat party. Not going to happen, not even if I got a perfect score. I narrow my eyes and purse my lips.
“Not a fan of Wildcats. Plus, I’m the one who ace’d the test. Shouldn’t I get to decide how I want to celebrate?”
He tips his chin. “Lady’s choice.”
“Pizza and a chick flick.”
His face erupts into a full-out smile. “Dinner and a movie. You got it.” He takes a step back and turns toward the door.
My stomach hardens. Dammit. I just turned this friendly celebration into a flat-out date.
CHAPTER 4—DATE?
I huff and throw my hands in the air. There’s just no way to prepare for tonight. Nothing is right. Rummaging through my closet, I try to find the perfect outfit that says I care about what I look like but we’re not hooking up. I guess the fashion gods have forsaken me. Such an outfit just doesn’t exist. The hangers fly across the metal rod, emitting an ear-piercing shriek as I push through the multitude of shirts, tank tops, and sweaters. Well, going naked won’t help my dilemma so I’ve got to pick the lesser of the evils.
My thin, red V-neck sweater and a pair of dark fitted jeans will have to do. I glance in the mirror and fluff my hair with my hands, readjusting the dark strands into place. Just two friends, who happen to be the opposite sex, seeing a movie and grabbing a pizza to celebrate the victorious reign over the physics test. My heart quickens.
A loud knock on the door echoes through my room, pulling me out of my thoughts. I jump into my jeans and hop to the door, sliding them up and zippering them on the way. I pull open the door and take a step back.
“Hey, you look hot for your non-date.” Lexie nudges my shoulder and sits on my bed.
I plop down on the purple comforter next to her. “Couldn’t find the perfect non-date outfit.” I roll my eyes and shake my head.
She presses her lips together trying to hold back a smile. “You know it’s a date, right?”
I hop up and fold my arms across my chest. “Can’t a guy and a girl just hang?” My lips press into a white slash.
Lexie twirls hair around her finger. “What’s the big deal anyway? He’s cute, nice, and he’s got a hot body… Let me guess, you’re looking for an unattractive, mean slob?”
I grab a pillow from the bed and throw it at her, trying to muffle a giggle. “You know I don’t date Beta Omega brothers. I’ve got to focus on school anyway.”
She crinkles her forehead. “He’s already your tutor. Seems like a win-win.”
“I don’t date frat guys,” I say as I grab a pair of black boots out of my closet and slide them on.
“We’ll see how long that rule stands.” She winks and walks to the door. “I’m meeting Tom at Wildcat’s. See you later… Oh, I won’t wait up.” She winks and closes the door behind her.
For someone who knows me better than anyone, you’d think she’d remember my will is as strong as steel. I glance in the mirror and glide pink shimmer lip-gloss along my lips. I smack them together and take a step back, adjusting my sweater so the deep V-neck doesn’t turn this night from PG to R.
One thing’s for sure, this whole wingman thing has got to stop. I mean, the whole idea of it breaks a million rules of girl code. And Tanya Layton, seriously? There’s no way I’m getting to know her any better to give Dean the scoop. She’s a carbon copy of the girls I used to hang out with in high school: gorgeous, easy, and completely dangerous to men. I know, I was one of them.
Dean’s the furthest thing from her type anyway. She’s all about the hot, rich guys, who buy her anything she wants and fall at her feet. It would
be a disaster waiting to happen. Sure, Dean’s got a smokin’ body, probably from the baseball training. A memory of his chiseled torso floods my mind. Tingles rush through my body like an electric current. He’s funny, smart, and cute in that all-American-boy kind of way. Every moment with him is a struggle. It takes skill to resist his charm. Not everyone is blessed with his charisma. He needs a girl who at least has a soul.
Maybe Lexie’s right. Maybe Dean’s not the evil frat demon I’ve concocted in my mind. Could he be the exception to the rule?
The doorbell rings, resonating through the apartment. I take one more quick glance in the mirror, fling my purse over my shoulder, and trot across the kitchen tiles. I pull open the heavy wooden door and gasp.
Dean holds out a bouquet of pink carnations. “Congrats gift.”
I stick out my hand, trying to prevent it from shaking, and take the flowers. Holding them up to my nose, I inhale the sweet aroma. “You didn’t have to get me a gift…but thanks, they’re beautiful.” I turn around pull a glass vase from the cabinet under the sink and set them in.
He runs his hand through is hair. “I’ve got a theme going.”
“Theme? We’re just grabbing pizza.” I grab my keys from the counter, slide on my coat, and head out the door. Guess it’s time to start this adventure.
I slide my hands in my pockets and walk down the steps next to Dean. A gentle gust of frigid air flows, causing a few loose strands of hair to tickle my face. “Okay, so what’s the theme?” A cloud of white vapor escapes from my mouth as I speak.
“You’ve got to promise not to fall in love with me after I tell you.” He turns toward me, flashing a sexy half smile.
I raise my eyebrows. “I think I can control myself.”
He slides his arm around me and pulls me close. My heart thumps in an array of erratic beats. His rock hard body presses against me. Self-control, don’t fail me now.
He leans in and whispers in my ear. “You wanted dinner and a movie, right?”
I nod. Dear god, where the hell is he going with this?
My feet shuffle against the remnants of ice-melt that sparkles against the sidewalk. We turn the corner and continue forward, about a block. He stops and twists my shoulders toward the large building on the left.
Leaning forward, he whispers in my ear. Soft lips lightly touch my lobe. “Retro night at the Commonwealth Theatre. I got us two tickets.” He steps to the side and gestures with his hand. “Double feature.”
My eyes peruse the letters lit up at the top of the sign.
Now Showing Pretty in Pink and Top Gun.
A smile creeps across my face. “Love the theme.”
He holds out his arm. “Can I call ya Maverick?”
I slide my hand out of my pocket and interlock my arm with his. “Not if you expect me to answer.”
“I never know what to expect with you.” He steps forward and pulls open the heavy glass door.
Bet he won’t expect this. I charge forward toward the snack bar as Dean hands our tickets to the usher. Hate to break it to him, but I’m not one of those girls that pretend they don’t eat. I require more than alcohol.
He places the ticket stubs on the snack counter. “Let’s get something that’ll hold us over until we get to Gerardo’s.”
“Read my mind.” I reach into my purse and pull out my wallet, setting it in front of me on the snack counter. “You got the movie, snacks are on me.”
He puts his hand over mine and the wallet. “No way, it’s a rule. You must treat the woman who slays the physics gods to a celebration of her choice.”
A surge of tingles flows through my body when our skin makes contact. He slowly moves his hand away from mine, rubbing his thumb over mine. He gently pulls away. My heart stammers and my breathing becomes heavy. I hold up my wallet, trying to steady my trembling hand and drop it back into my purse. “Where is this list of rules?”
He holds up his hands. “Secrets of the Brotherhood. I swore an oath.”
I shake my head. An oath? Yeah, I vaguely remember the code of honor from my first, and last, frat party. I think it involved ecstasy, spilled drinks, and a ton of colored liquids.
“What can I get for you?” A tall, lanky teenage boy with thick glasses steps up to the cash register. Now this is how I imagined my physics tutor to look.
I glance at his nametag. “Hey Flynn. I’ll have a large popcorn, large soda, chocolate covered peanuts, gummy bears, and M&M’s.”
Dean jerks his head back and lowers his eyebrows.
I shrug. “It’s a double feature.”
His lips upturn to a smile. “I’ll have a large soda. Maybe she’ll share with me.”
Flynn looks me up and down. “I’d share with her anytime.”
“She’s one of a kind.” Dean leans in closer and tucks a few stray strands of hair behind my ear. “Brooke Powers, you’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met.”
My face flushes. “Dean…” I crinkle my forehead and tilt my head. “I don’t even know your last name.”
He smirks. “Hmm, you spent the night with me and don’t even know my last name. Maybe you should join the fraternity.”
Heat spreads across my face like wildfire. “My memory’s a little impaired. Maybe because I was drugged.”
“Bad joke.” He grabs the popcorn and candy. “It’s Parker.”
I take our drinks and walk alongside him to theatre 3. The worn red carpet leads to an overabundance of empty seats. Are we early?
Dean looks from side to side. “Hope we can get a seat.”
I chuckle. “Tenth row center is the best seat in the house.”
“Really?” He walks forward and stops at row ten, holding onto our snacks for dear life.
“Yep, got the perfect distance from all sides.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” He eases in, spilling a few kernels of popcorn on his way to the middle of the row.
I slide into the seat next to him and place his soda in the cup holder attached to the arm rest. “I find your lack of faith disturbing.”
“Nice.” He hands me the array of candy I ordered and sets the popcorn between us.
“Wanna share?” I rip open my box of chocolate covered peanuts and hold it out to Dean.
The lights dim, casting a golden glow around the empty theater, and illuminating Dean’s face. I stare, mesmerized by his chiseled jaw and perfectly smooth skin. He shakes his head and leans in closer. My nerve endings stir, causing a series of tingles to travel from the tips of my fingers to my toes.
He tips my chin toward him and gazes into my eyes. “You’re the one thing I’m not willing to share.”
I squint as we walk through the door and emerge from the dark theater. Never thought I’d get the chance to see either of those movies on the big screen. Too bad I spent the last three and a half hours sitting in a dark theatre, replaying the words Dean said, over and over in my head. What was he talking about? We’re just friends, sharing is required.
I blink repeatedly, finally regaining focus. Ushers and employees sweep the floor and shut down the snack bar as we make our way out of the theatre.
Dean turns toward me. “Still hungry?”
I toss my empty containers in the trash and walk toward the door. “Hell, yeah.”
Dean holds open the door. “Time for part two of the celebration.”
I pull my coat tight around myself and step into the frigid night. Millions of stars shine through the dark abyss of the clear sky. I breathe slowly, trying to prevent the cool air from burning my nose. I gaze around at the tranquil empty streets covered in a fresh blanket of snow, sparkling like tiny diamonds against the cool moonlight.
Dean holds out his arm. “Gerardo’s is right down the block. In the mood for pizza?”
I nod and take his arm, nuzzling against him. The closer we are the more heat we generate. My heart races and blood rushes through my body. Newton seemed to miss this concept in his laws of attraction.
I walk for
ward, breathing deep and taking in the aroma of fresh fallen snow and Dean. Perfect combination.
I stomp my feet against the freshly shoveled concrete sidewalk in front of Gerardo’s, trying to knock off the excess snow clinging to my boots. Dean eases his arm from mine and pulls open the door. I walk inside, greeted by the aroma of fresh baked bread and garlic. I inhale deeply, taking in the fresh flavors. Dean feathers his hand along the small of my back. Butterflies flutter in my stomach. He guides me to a table in the back.
I take off my coat and slide into the green leather booth. He follows suit and grabs a menu from the table.
“What’s your poison?” He peruses the menu.
“Nothing sweet or cute, or called virgins.” I smirk.
He glides his finger down the menu. “They’ve got hellfire scorchers. Right up your alley.”
I kick him under the table and muffle a smile.
“What can I get you?” A dark haired girl with the body of a porn star, wearing a shirt two sizes too small, smiles. She stares at Dean tapping a pen against a notepad.
Um, hello, I’m right here. I toss my menu on the table. “We’ll have a large pizza pie and two large colas.”
Dean sets down the menu. “Sounds good.”
Her eyes shift from Dean’s fitted, gray, long-sleeved T-shirt to his deep blue eyes. “Coming right up.” She takes a step back and turns away.
I look toward her, then shift my focus to Dean. “Looks like you made a new friend.”
He sets his elbows on the table and leans forward. “I’ve got enough friends, no room for any more.”
I tip my chin. “Please, anyone at your frat house would make room for her.”
He shrugs. “Not interested.”
“In girls.” I fidget with my fingers.
“What?... No. I mean, yes. I’m interested in girls. Just not her.”
My god, the guys at the frat house would line up for her. Who knows? She might even be into that kind of kinky stuff. Maybe Dean is just being polite, which would definitely not be one of the rules of the Brotherhood. How did he end up in a frat house?
