Southern Seduction

by Alcorn, N. A.

  The guys are all standing single file, taking turns throwing the ball at the hoop, well "shooting" the ball... I think that's what it's called. I'm not up on my "basketball lingo", I've never needed to know anything about it. Each guy throws the ball ten times before moving to the back of the line. The majority of the guys get six or seven shots in out of ten, but when it's Wyatt's turn, he only misses once! Like an idiot, I stand up and yell, "Go Wyatt!" His head snaps up to look for me, and when he finds me on the far side of the gym he smiles, happy that I'm watching him. They continue to cycle through, and on Wyatt's next turn up, he only gets four out of ten. He's obviously angry about it because he throws the ball to the next person in line hard, knocking the breath out of him for a second. The coach says something to him as he walks past him, but Wyatt just shakes his head as he runs a hand through his hair.

  Wyatt doesn't get another chance to throw because the coach blows his whistle and tells the team to line up for what he calls "suicides". This consists of the guys running up and down the court, stopping first a quarter of the way down the court, then halfway, then three quarters, then to the other side of the court. They go through this weird sequence three more times with Wyatt easily pulling in front of the rest of the team. I didn't realize he was so fast, but then, I've never watched him practice or run so why would I?

  At the end, the coach blows his whistle again, saying, "Bring it in boys!" The guys form a circle around him and he talks for a few minutes before everyone puts a hand in and they shout something before breaking apart to head to the locker room. Instead of following everyone else, Wyatt jogs over to me.

  "Hey Pey," he pants. "I need to go take a shower, but I'll be ready to go after that okay?" Then, he pulls up the bottom of his t-shirt, and uses it to wipe the sweat off his face before deciding to remove it completely. Wyatt's definitely man candy and I'm immediately jealous of anyone who's ever gotten to touch him. He's got one of those bodies that's toned, but doesn't look like he's been doing steroids for years. He has broad shoulders, pecs that beg to have a girls hands run over them, and a six pack that features a happy trail that disappears into the shorts that hang low on his hips.

  And now I have the image of Wyatt, naked, in the shower. He's standing in front of me dripping with sweat which doesn't help that mental image. I start to tell him I'll wait, but my voice sounds rusty, like I haven't used it for a while and I have to clear it before I can continue.

  Wyatt grins, loving my discomfort. "Ten minutes, okay?"

  To avoid more embarrassment, I just nod and he jogs back towards the locker room. He doesn't get far before the coach yells his name and he slows to a walk to allow him to catch up to him. The coach puts a hand on Wyatt's shoulder and says something to him, causing Wyatt to grimace before answering him. Patting him on the shoulder once, the coach says something else before letting him go into the locker room.

  When Wyatt finally comes back out, he's wearing a pair of dark jeans, a grey hoodie and a pair of black Converse sneakers with his backpack slung over one shoulder. "Ready to go?" he asks as he reaches down to grab my bag before holding out a hand to help me down from the bleachers.

  "Yeah, I guess so. Where are we going?" After seeing him practice, the last thing I want is to be alone with him somewhere, and I definitely don't want him in my dorm room. There won't be any way to keep my distance if we go there.

  "I figured we'd just go to the library since it's only a few buildings down from here. Then you won't have to move your car. We can just walk down."

  I sigh in relief, causing Wyatt to shoot me a quick, confused look before shaking his head. He slows his walk so that he can stay beside me while he asks me questions about my day. He always does this, wants to know everything that happened since he last saw me, and it warms me just as much as it disturbs me. I've been trying so hard to keep him at arms length, but he just won't give up, no matter how hateful I am towards him. Now that he's tutoring me, I really can't be mean to him either, because he could tell me the wrong thing and make things even harder on me. Not that I think he would really do that, but the option is there.

  It takes only a few minutes to reach the library, and I've never been so grateful to walk inside as I am right now. Once we enter all his focus will be on Math instead of on me, which is definitely a good thing. He reaches the door first, and opening it he places his hand on my lower back to lead me in. My jacket isn't very thick and the warmth from his hand warms my entire body. God, I'm turning into such a girl!

  He continues to make small talk as we walk up the stairs to the main library floor. Downstairs is mostly meeting rooms and small study cubicles, which are meant for one person only. He always chooses a table that's far away from everyone else, like he's afraid my attention is going to be anywhere but on him. Like that's even possible, especially when he pulls off his hoodie. He pulls it off by doing theta very guy thing of grasping the back and pulling it up and over his head causing his royal blue t-shirt to ride up exposing his abs. Holy six-pack! He's perfectly toned thanks to basketball and I'm pretty sure I'm drooling at seeing the sight again so soon after the gym.

  After he removes his hoodie, he grins at me knowingly as he pulls his shirt back down and sits beside me. "If you want a closer look, I'd be glad to arrange it," he murmurs in my ear, distracting me momentarily with thoughts of getting very close to those abs. His quiet chuckle brings me out of my fantasies and I know my face is flaming. "I'd really love to know what you were thinking just now."

  Oh shit. There's no way I'm telling him what I was thinking. No way in hell! "Nothing!" I squeak. "Can we please just concentrate on Algebra?" Let him say yes. Please, please let him say yes. Otherwise, I might die of mortification. What in the world is wrong with me? This is absolutely insane.

  "Sure babe," Wyatt says with a laugh, "I'll let you concentrate on Algebra, but don't think I'm letting you off the hook. I'll get you to tell me eventually." Flashing me a smug grin, he pulls my book over so that it's lying between us as he lays his other arm along the back of my chair. I sit ramrod straight for the remainder of the tutoring session, unable to concentrate on anything but the smell of Wyatt's cologne, his minty breath and the arm that brushes my back every time I start to relax.

  Wyatt collapses onto the couch beside me at his apartment, and stretches his arms up behind his head before they land spread out on either side of him. Of course, that means one arm is behind me, so I sit up a little straighter, trying to keep from touching him.

  "What are you doing for spring break?" he asks, turning to look at me intently.

  Our eyes meet and the intensity in his makes me squirm. "Nothing. My choices are here at school or at my parents, so I'm staying in my dorm."

  He sits up quickly, his arm narrowly missing my head when he moves it to grasp my hand. "You can't stay in the dorm by yourself for a week."

  "Why not?" I don't know why he sounds so alarmed. Staying in the dorm is a much better option than going home.

  Wyatt sighs exasperatedly, "It's not safe Peyton. It's spring break week, which means almost everyone will be gone. Bad shit happens, just look at Annabelle."

  I don't want to discuss Annabelle with him, I don't know how he even knows about that. It happened before college, and it's not something she volunteers to anyone, and neither does Scarlett. I don't think Kat even knows, so she wasn't the person who told.

  "I'm not Annabelle," I say with a scoff.

  Alright, even I know that's a stupid thing to say. But, it bugs me that he's trying to protect me. It bugs me, but it's also nice that he cares enough to want to protect me. Jeez, I'm even beginning to confuse myself.

  Of course, Wyatt isn't privy to my inner monologue, so he doesn't know I'm already kicking myself for thinking that. He opens his mouth to say what I'm sure will be a reprimand, so I throw up a hand in my own defense, stopping him before he even starts. "I know okay? That was completely uncalled for. I get it, you don't have to yell at me."

  His eyes soften imme
diately, "I wasn't going to yell at you."

  "That's probably worse." I can't stop the small grin that appears with my words. I don't know what it is about him, but no matter how shitty I'm feeling, Wyatt always makes me feel better. He's a lot like Scarlett, he doesn't let me push him away, and he doesn't let me get away with my shit. I intimidate most guys and I like it. I never have to worry about anyone getting too close, the problem with Wyatt is I want him to get closer. I don't know why I feel such a pull towards him, but I like spending time with him, I like just being around him. Their apartment is full of people tonight, celebrating the fact that spring break starts tomorrow after class, but it's almost like we're the only two people here.

  Since I haven't been paying attention, I've missed whatever Wyatt's said in the past few minutes, so when he brushes his knuckles along my cheek, I startle. "What the hell, Wyatt?"

  Leaning back against the couch, Wyatt laughs, "Holy shit it's funny when you space out. You haven't heard a thing I've said have you?" Most guys would be pissed that they didn't keep my attention, but not him. He thinks it's hilarious that he just scared the crap out of me.

  Scowling, I reach over and shove him, "You're such an ass. For the record, I didn't space out, you're just boring me into a trance." That only makes him laugh harder, which just makes me more irritated. Pushing up from the couch, I head off to find Scarlett and Kat. The apartment isn't that big, so finding them shouldn't be difficult.

  Turns out, finding my roommate and my friend wasn't as easy as I thought it would be. Their apartment opens into the room Wyatt and I were sitting in. A room that normally would be used as a living room, but it's rather small. There's a couch, a huge TV and every game system available. To the right is a small kitchen that currently has more people crammed inside than the fire code probably allows, with cabinets on each side. The room the guys use as a gaming space, connects to a huge open area that has another couch, a couple of chairs and another big screen TV. All the furniture is currently pushed against the wall so the space looks even bigger, and there's more room for people to talk and dance. The three bedrooms are around the living area, and there's a sliding glass door that opens to a packed patio. They live on the second floor, and I'm sure the people directly below aren't happy with the amount of stomping that's going on tonight, but so far no one's complained.

  Scarlett and Kat aren't in the kitchen, or the living room, nor do I see them out on the deck when I peer out the sliding doors. That only leaves the bedrooms or bathrooms to check, not that I want to snoop around the guys' bedrooms. I understand keeping private things private more than most. Heaving a deep sigh, I cringe when I open the first bedroom door. This is my first time in their apartment, and I'm a little scared at what I'll find in their rooms. The thought of three guys living alone makes me shudder. For all I know, I'm going to find stashes of porn and blow up dolls in each room. But, then again, Emmett has a girlfriend, and Clay and Wyatt are both attractive guys, even if they are extremely irritating. Focusing on the room I'm just walked into, all I see is a fairly clean, but definitely male room. Based on the business books lying around, and the lack of anything personal, this must be Clay's room. He's about as close-mouthed as I am, so the fact that his bedroom is pretty barren isn't a shock. It's also empty. No Scarlett or Kat in here.

  The second room is Emmett's and it's obvious. Not only is it extremely messy, but his girlfriend and the blonde from the bar a few weeks ago are sitting on the bed deep in conversation. They are so deep in conversation that they don't immediately notice I'm in the room until I clear my throat. "Um, hey."

  Both girls jump before turning guiltily towards me. "Hey...." Olivia starts, questioningly. "Can we help you?" She doesn't look mad, but she does look like she's wondering what part of her conversation I heard.

  "Uh, yeah, sorry. I'm just trying to find Kat. Have you guys seen her or Scarlett?"

  The blonde, who everyone calls by her initials, that I can't remember at the moment, is staring at me so hard it's making me uncomfortable. Finally, she shakes her head, "I haven't seen them for awhile, but the last time I saw them, they were heading out the front door with Max." She smiles apologetically, before turning back to Olivia and effectively dismissing me. Well, okay then. Maybe she's worried about the time I spend with Wyatt. He says they're just friends, but maybe that's not the way she sees it.

  "They left? Great. Well.... thanks. I'll leave y'all alone now." Hurrying out of the room, before I break down and ask her about her and Wyatt, I shut the door and lean back against it.

  "What were you doing in Emmett's room?" an amused voice asks, making me jump.

  Turning my head towards Wyatt, I reply, "I was looking for Scarlett and Kat. Olivia and her friend said they left with Max earlier."

  He nods, grinning, "Ahh. You should have asked me before searching the apartment. I would've told you they ran to the store for more snacks. We weren't expecting this many people." Of course they weren't, but it's the night before the last day of class. Everyone wants to party, especially if it's off campus. Crossing my arms, I turn away from him and study the crowd mingling in the living room. For the first time, I'm actually a little jealous of all the people here having fun. These people are mingling, hanging out with friends, and seem to have absolutely no concerns about parents or family, and no insecurities. It has been a long time since I've envied people for feeling that way.

  Wyatt notices the melancholy shift of my thoughts, because he comes closer before grasping my chin and turning my face to meet his concerned gaze. "What's wrong Pey?"

  "Nothing," I say with a shrug, trying to move away from his fingers but he doesn't let me.

  He raises an eyebrow, "I call bullshit." Letting go of my chin, he grabs my hand instead, intertwining our fingers. "In all your snooping, did you find my room?"

  I shake my head, "No, I only made it to Clay and Emmett's rooms." Wyatt grins before tugging me across the room to the other bedroom.

  When we walk inside, there's no hiding the fact that it's Wyatt's room. There's one of those kid's basketball goals hooked on his closet door, a basketball uniform balled up on the floor in the corner, and his bed is made, but it's obvious by the mussed covers he, or someone, has been laying on it at some point since he made it. His dresser has a model of the Seattle Space Needle on one side, and the Eiffel Tower on the other. Both are made out of Lego's. In the middle of his desk, instead of a computer, is a half-built model of something else, although I'm not sure what it is. Walking over to get a closer look, the instructions say it's the Sydney Opera House.

  When I turn back around, Wyatt's leaning back against the door with his arms crossed. His blue eyes are darker than normal and he's watching me carefully. Trying to lighten the mood, I say, "I thought only little kids played with Lego's."

  One side of Wyatt's mouth lifts and he shrugs, "I guess I'm a kid at heart. I'm an Architecture major Peyton. Building things comes naturally."

  "Why the Space Needle? Or the Eiffel Tower?"

  He continues to hold my gaze, "They're amazing buildings, and places I've never seen, but want to. Remember, my family is poor. I've never been outside of Tennessee. In fact, Nashville's the furthest from my hometown I've ever been. I want to do more, go more places."

  This conversation has gotten way more personal than I thought it would. I get it, and more than that, I get him. I understand what he's saying. He doesn't want to be forever branded as the son of an unwed mother. I may not have any experience with how he grew up, but based on how snobby my parents are, I have an inkling of how he was treated growing up and it makes my heart squeeze. I don't say anything else, and finally Wyatt sighs before crossing the room to sit on his bed. When he reaches over, I think he's going to grab me so I step back. He sighs and shakes his head before he grabs the desk chair and pulls it out. He motions for me to sit. Oh. Well, now I feel stupid.

  Once I'm sitting, Wyatt takes my hand in his, "Will you please do me a favor?"

  "What favor?" I
ask warily, not sure at all where he's going with this.

  He takes a deep breath before saying quickly, "Stay here during Spring Break. Please."

  Huh? Where did this come from? Oh yeah, it came from our conversation earlier. He's still worried about me being alone. "You must be joking. I'm not staying here. What about your roommates?"

  Wyatt shakes his head, "Clay and Max are both going home like Kat. Emmett and Olivia are going to Gatlinburg, and I know Scarlett and Annabelle are both heading home too." I start to shut him down again, but he interrupts me, "No Peyton. Either you stay here, or I'm staying in the dorm. I'm not trying to fuck you; I'm trying to make sure you're safe, so you have two choices. You can either sleep here, and I'll sleep on the couch, or I'll sleep in Kat's bed in your dorm room."

  Forceful Wyatt is something new. He's normally pretty laid-back and easy-going. As much as I like him being bossy and caring about my safety, there's no way I'm staying here. It's just asking for trouble. I don't hesitate to tell him that either. "You're not sleeping in my dorm room Wyatt, and I'm sure as hell not sleeping in your room. I told you before; I'm a big girl. I don't need you to babysit me." By the end of my little tirade, my eyes are narrowed, and my arms are crossed over my chest, which pushes my boobs up and together. When his eyes drop to the cleavage now showing out of my v-neck top, I hurriedly drop my arms.

  Wyatt leans forward to grip the arms of his desk chair, pulling me closer until his legs are on either side of the chair. With his hands still holding the arms of the chair, I'm effectively trapped. With a determined and serious look in his eyes, he states, "It's not about baby-sitting you Pey. You live in a co-ed dorm, and the majority of people are going to be gone for an entire week. You're also kind of a bitch, and I know how you are. You'll smart off at someone and end up getting yourself in trouble. I'd just feel more comfortable if you were here. I swear, I don't have any ulterior motives." He stops talking, obviously trying to think of a way to convince me when he suddenly brightens, "And, we can spend the week studying your math. By the time Spring Break is over, you'll be all caught up. Hell, maybe you'll be ahead, and you won't even want a tutor anymore."