That Boy (That Boy Series Book 1)

by Jillian Dodd

  Anyway, I’ve had to endure sitting by him in the student center while he does his interviews. I hope I never gush like that over a boy. And some of the answers these girls give. I’m sort of embarrassed by them, and I don’t embarrass easily! Sometimes an active will see a girl he thinks is hot and specifically tell the pledge to interview her. The active writes his initials at the bottom of the page, which lets everyone know that he saw her first.

  And they say girls play games!

  The party is a meet and greet party. Only interviewed freshmen girls are invited. It’s held under the guise that they are trying to make their pledges more social, but I really think it’s so the older guys can hit on the young, naive, freshmen girls.

  As we walk down to the frat house, Phillip is telling me a whole bunch of rules he thinks I need to follow for the evening.

  I swear, you’d think he was my father!

  I’m half listening and half thinking about the cute guy I met in chemistry class today. Somehow I need to get him to be my lab partner. That would make Chemistry 101 a lot more interesting!

  I hear Phillip saying, “Don’t go upstairs with anyone.”

  “Don’t go on any so-called tours of the frat house.”

  “Don’t drink anything that you didn’t pour yourself.”

  “Never leave your drink out of sight.”

  “Check in with me every half hour.”

  I’m bored by Phillip’s rules, and my mind wanders back to chemistry boy. I wonder if we get to pick our lab partners or if they’re assigned? Maybe by alphabetical order? Shoot, I think, when I realize I still don’t even know the cutie’s name.

  “Are you listening to me?” I hear Phillip ask.

  “Uh, of course.” Now what did he just say? “You told me about checking in with you. I’m listening,” I lie. “Please, go on.”

  So he does.

  On and on and on.

  “No getting drunk.”

  “No table dancing.”

  Like I’d ever do that!

  “Don’t get into a game of quarters.”

  Well, maybe that . . .

  “Be wary of the upperclassmen.”

  No way!

  “Stick by me . . . ”

  Boring!

  I thought at college you were supposed to abandon all rules. At least the ones you had to follow in high school. My mind wanders back to chemistry boy again.

  I can’t help it!

  Maybe we can choose our chemistry partners based on chemistry, get it? Of course, I’m not sure if we have chemistry because all I did was smile at the boy, but he did smile back. It’s a good start. Now I just need to find out his name and then—

  “Ahh!” I scream.

  Phillip has stopped walking and stepped directly in front of me. I awaken from my daydream to collide and then nearly fall over the top of him.

  “What are you doing?” I yell at him, as he grabs my shoulders to stop me from falling and taking us both down.

  God, he is strong. When I finally marry my prince, I hope he has strong arms like Phillip’s. Oh, and great abs too. I wonder if many princes come to school here. Now that would be something useful to put in the student directory and a good recruiting tool, I would think, as well.

  Phillip is talking loudly to me.

  “What are you thinking about, and why are you spacing out? This is important stuff.” He sighs big at me.

  “I appreciate that, Phillip.” He’s still holding my shoulders and is totally in my face. I’m half tempted to kiss him, just to throw him off guard, but he’d probably get mad at me, and I don’t need that right now, so I don’t. “But you know I’m not exactly the best rule follower. Why don’t you just pick the most important one, and I’ll do my best?” I say, with a wave of my hand.

  He lets go of me, gives me that eye, and says, “Fine. You’re leaving with me.” He pauses for effect. “Have you got that?”

  I nod my head.

  “Repeat it,” he bosses.

  Being the smart ass that I am, I raise my right hand up, like I’m taking an oath in a courtroom and say, “I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. I will leave the party with you.”

  “Continue.”

  I sigh. The boy knows me too well. “Even if there is a cute boy that I would rather leave with.”

  Then thinking of a possible loophole, I say, “Hey Phillip, what happens if I don’t want to leave the frat house. Depending on how it goes, maybe I’ll want to stay.”

  Phillip is getting irritated with me, I can tell. I kind of like seeing him a little irritated and, fortunately, I seem to be able to irritate him easily. He is usually so reserved.

  Shoot!

  I just realized that I am also very dumb, because I really should have kept that loophole to myself. I may have needed it later.

  That’s the problem with my mouth. Sometimes it talks before my brain can think.

  “God, do I need to get a lawyer just to get you to agree to something? Here it is. JJ, you are leaving with me when I am ready to leave. Got it?”

  “Yeah, I got it.”

  Jeez, he’s my knight in shining armor, whether I want him to be or not.

  Phillip and I walk into the frat house and are greeted by two pledges. They are sitting at a table in front of the door and matching girls with their pledge interviews. One of the boys takes a Polaroid picture (I didn’t even know those cameras still existed!) of each girl and writes her name on it with a permanent marker. I get my picture taken, we head into the party, grab a beer, and stand off to the edge of the party room, chatting and taking it all in. I keep catching a guy staring at me from across the room. Of course, being the terrible flirt that I am, I forget all of Phillip’s rules and bat my eyes at the guy. I watch as another guy hands him one of those permanent markers.

  What? Is he signing autographs later?

  Across the way, I recognize two girls from my history class. A group of us have been whiling away the boring lectures by writing notes to each other about what kind of nasty things we’d like to do to the hot grad assistant. Due to my lack of experience in this area, I can easily say that I’m learning way more than expected in history class.

  I glance back at the cute guy. Maybe it’s time I get some of that experience.

  “Don’t look now, Phillip,” I order, “but who’s the guy over there in the green Polo shirt?”

  “Why do you care?” Phillip asks me suspiciously, in his snotty little boy voice. I swear sometimes I think he’s twelve.

  “I don’t know.” I shrug. “He keeps looking over here. I just wondered who he is.”

  Phillip does as he is told and waits a minute.

  At least the boy can follow directions.

  “Do you think he’s cute?” he asks, before he looks.

  “No, not really,” I lie.

  Phillip rolls his eyes at me, glances over toward the green Polo and, says, “Ah.” He nods his head up and down and frowns. “That is Matt Fuller. He’s a senior and our Pledge Advisor.” He looks at me with squinty eyes and tries to read my mind. “He specifically asked me to interview you.”

  “Really?” I smile way too big, because now he totally knows I was lying about the cute part. “When? I’m pretty sure I’d remember him.” I look at Phillip quizzically.

  “I don’t remember exactly, but I think he saw me giving you a piggyback ride across campus.” Phillip shakes his head at me. “I really don’t know why I let you get away with the stuff that you do.”

  “Because I’m irresistible, Phillip.” I smile and shrug my shoulders. “You can’t help yourself. Besides, you didn’t go across campus. You only went about fifty feet before you pretended to have a heart attack from supporting my weight and collapsed on top of me in the grass.”

  “Oh, yeah. I remember. I think you’ve gained some weight.”

  I slug him in the shoulder.

  He ignores it and continues, “Come to think of it, I think that’s when Ma
tt saw you.”

  He gives me a big grin.

  Like he just now remembered it.

  “You probably didn’t notice him because you were too busy rolling around on the grass with me.”

  “I’m pretty sure I was trying to get you off me.”

  “Well, it must’ve not looked that way to Matt, because he asked if you were my girlfriend.”

  “Oh, God. What story did you make up this time, Phillip?”

  He smirks. “Oh, I just told him that even though you’re madly in love with me, I don’t want to be tied down, so we’re just friends. Of course, what I should’ve said was Please, just take her. She’s more trouble than she’s worth.”

  I give Phillip the finger.

  Then I turn my back on him and stare over at Matt. I’m intrigued and excited by the fact that he wanted me interviewed. That means he’s at least somewhat interested. Matt is really hot. I’m guessing him to be about six-two, and he’s built like an athlete. In good shape, but not too big. He has thick, wavy, brown hair and I’m not sure if it’s his authoritative stance or the crispness of his Polo, but he looks like he grew up with a rich daddy. I can picture him driving a little BMW to the club for golf and tennis. He could probably be in an ad for the company that made his shirt. He would look right at home standing in the back yard of a big summer house on the ocean, playing croquet and holding a martini.

  Not my typical rough-around-the-edges guy. But, hey, I’m at college to experience new things, right?

  Phillip, who has apparently been successful at reading my mind again, says, “I really don’t think you want any part of that, Princess. He has a playboy reputation, and the rumors of his sexual prowess are of practically legendary proportions. All the pledges are in awe of him, or at least of the stories about him.”

  “Everyone? Even you, Phillip?”

  Phillip just shakes his head at me. I frustrate that boy, I think.

  I smile though, because I like what I’m hearing about this Matt. Hopefully it’s not all hype. Maybe there is a bad boy under all that polish!

  Phillip frowns. “Unfortunately, I think he has you in his sights. So be careful, or better yet, just try to avoid him.”

  “Phiiiiiliiiiip, I am not going to avoid him.” I glance up to see Matt looking my way again. This time, I catch his eye. I hold his stare for a second, smiling, until he looks away, seemingly embarrassed.

  Some playboy.

  He is cute, though. What the hell? He probably made up his own reputation just to impress the pledges.

  I think What the hell has become my personal mantra. I may have T-shirts made up soon.

  “Okay. Then at least stop giving him those eyes. You’re making me sick.”

  I ignore Phillip’s eye comment. “I’m sure the rumors are exaggerated, and besides, he’s probably not that interested in me anyway. I bet he asked for lots of freshman to be interviewed. Plus, he doesn’t look like my type . . . ”

  “What? He’s not an idiot?” Phillip interrupts, taking a cheap shot at my taste in guys.

  I frown at him, put my hand on my hip, and flash a little attitude. “You know what? Just for fun, I’ll bet you five bucks that I can make him come over here now and talk to me.”

  We’ll test out some of my newly discovered powers of male-persuasion.

  “Really? And just how are you gonna do that?”

  Like I can’t.

  Let’s see, I have already smiled and given him the eye. (Apparently Katie and Lisa have taught me well.) Next step, make him worry that my availability is questionable.

  I face Phillip and lean my body close to his. Really, I pretty much just press the whole front of my body up against the front of his. I should probably mention that Phillip has an excellent body to be pressing up against.

  “Well, Phillip,” I whisper slowly into his ear, “I’m just going to whisper in your ear.”

  “And rub up the front of me too?” he whispers back. “I think I’m liking this plan.”

  “No, I’m not going to do that. I’m simply getting very close to you, telling you, I don’t know, something very private.”

  “Are you talking dirty to me?” He laughs and wraps his arms around me. That mind reading thing comes in handy sometimes, because he totally understands my ruse.

  “Yes, I am! So grin like you like what I’m saying.”

  “Why don’t you kiss my neck while you’re there, just for good measure.”

  “Good idea. You don’t mind my using you, do you, Phillip?” I ask, as I put my lips onto his neck up by his ear.

  I hear his breath catch.

  I don’t think he minds.

  His neck smells really good. I love the way Phillip smells. All manly and musky and quite yummy. For a minute, I almost forget about that Matt guy.

  “Not at all,” Phillip purrs, “although if it doesn’t work really fast, I might be forced to drag you back to the dorm and have my way with you.”

  I admit, I think it would be fun to let Phillip have his way with me, but we’re just friends and we don’t want to ruin that, so yeah.

  I laugh and start to say, “Phil—” when he interrupts me.

  “You’re good,” Phillip says, surprised. “Here he comes.”

  “Liar.” I don’t even turn around because I’m sure he’s teasing me. It couldn’t have worked that fast.

  But it must have, because instead of answering me, Phillip switches me into one arm, leans around me, and shakes Matt’s hand. I turn around and am face-to-face with a Greek God.

  He is even better looking up close. Because up close you can see he has these amazing emerald green eyes and a sexy five o’clock shadow.

  “Matt Fuller,” Phillip says, introducing me. “This is my friend, Jadyn Reynolds.”

  Matt holds out his hand to shake mine.

  I put my hand in his. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  Matt shakes my hand then lowers his hand to his side, without letting mine go.

  In fact, I don’t think he has any intention of letting it go.

  What is this boy up to?

  He gazes at me with those smoldering green eyes and quickly gets rid of Phillip. “Hey, Phillip, why don’t you go get some beers. The lady’s empty.” He clinks my empty bottle with his full one.

  “Uh, sure,” Phillip says. He knows he is being dismissed, so when he gets behind Matt’s back, he gives me a look that says Remember the rules.

  I look at Matt and then down at my hand. “So, do I get my hand back?”

  “I don’t think so,” he says, oozing sex appeal out of every pore.

  Now, I would have thought this kind of bold move would turn me off a guy, but it seems to be having the opposite effect. I’m kind of impressed. It’s goofy, but this is something I could see myself doing to make an impression.

  “So, I’ll just have to stay here all night, huh?” I say innocently, but knowing the sentence has major innuendo.

  “Well, at least until you get to know me properly,” he replies and blinks lazily.

  “Oh, great,” I say, rolling my eyes in mock boredom, “next you’ll ask me my major.”

  “No, I already know. Engineering.”

  Mr. Smarty Pants, huh?

  “Well, either you read my interview, or you are psychic.”

  “Guilty.”

  Not only is he still holding my hand, but also, he is totally invading my personal space. It’s making me slightly crazy. I’m having a very hard time trying not to look at his mouth. I fear if I keep looking at it, I might do something rash, like just start kissing it. I am also fighting a growing impulse to rub my cheek up against all those stubbles on his face.

  “I did read your interview. In fact you might be interested to know that this fraternity house was built in 1957. It has some very interesting architectural details.”

  Oh really? Let me guess, you want to give me a tour?

  “You know, I’ve heard about this house practically my whole life. Phillip’s dad and my
dad belonged to this fraternity and lived here.”

  “Well, in that case, I bet you would love a tour.” His gaze is predatory.

  Now I do remember hearing that rule. No tours. I’m looking around for Phillip, hoping he’ll return with my beer. I’d really like to have something to keep my mouth occupied.

  “Maybe later,” I say politely, not completely refusing. “So this interview stuff—seems to me it’s just a way for you guys to get the inside scoop on the new crop. Let me guess, tomorrow night you will sit around a fire and score the girls?”

  He has an expression of surprise on his face that leads me to believe that is exactly what they will do.

  “Who told you that?” he whispers, leaning in closer to me. I can feel his warm breath on my neck and I can smell him. He smells different from Phillip—more like soap, but still nice.

  “You really do that?” I laugh in disbelief, yet I can totally picture it. It is so very much something boys would do. I’m on a roll now, so I take another stab in the dark. “And the scores, are they based on looks or how, um, friendly the girls are?”

  “You’re not supposed to know about this,” he whispers in my ear again.

  I really don’t think it’s a big secret. I think he’s just trying to get to me.

  It’s working.

  “I’d say we rank the girls on their ability to make friends,” he states, like a not so truthful politician.

  “So, hypothetically, let’s say I kiss you tonight, what kind of ranking would I get?” I flirt.

  “One star.”

  I give him an insulted look, and then I try to make my face look sexy.

  “What if I’m really good at it?”

  “Still only one star,” he responds, like Sorry.

  “I see. So what if I were to say, strip naked and dance on a table?”

  He grins. “Although that is something I would very much enjoy seeing, I’m afraid it would net you no stars. It’s kind of like the difference between a spectator sport and a contact sport.”

  Ah, I get it.

  “So are you going to kiss me?”

  “No,” I respond, shaking my head like it is the furthest thing from my mind.