I sure as hell know how I feel after working out. Fucking famished.
She pauses, her gaze sliding to the vibrant yellow and orange shop across the street before arrowing right back to mine. Just when I think she’ll agree, she shakes her head instead.
But I know she wants one. As soon as I mentioned the word smoothie, her green eyes lit up with interest. “Are you sure?” I cajole, “Because I could seriously go for a pomegranate and berry one.” Now that I’m actually saying the words out loud, I realize just how true they are. I really could go for a smoothie right about now. It would be the perfect pick me up before heading to the library for a few hours.
Looking uncertain, her eyes slowly shift back to mine again. “Really?”
One side of my mouth twitches up. Instead of replying, I simply grab her fingers before tugging her across the street towards the brightly colored shop. As we make our way to the counter, I ask, “So what kind are you in the mood for?”
Her gaze catches mine before quickly skittering away. She does that a lot. “Same as you.”
My lips curve up even further and when it’s our turn, I order for both of us. The guy behind the counter does a double take before a massive grin overtakes his face. “No problem, King!”
With raised brows, Ivy’s eyes slide to mine as the guy calls out our order to someone else who will apparently make our drinks. Before I can even try to engage her in any kind of conversation, the guy is back.
Shaking his head, he leans across the counter as if settling in for a nice long discussion. “That was one hell of a game yesterday.” He quickly glances over his shoulder before inching closer to me. “I’ve got to watch my language around here. The manager would write me up if he heard that.”
Even though I nod like I’m completely fascinated by what he’s saying, I’m really wishing this guy would just go away. Instead, he continues as if he’s totally oblivious to the fact that I might be trying to spend some time with the girl standing right next to me. Not once does he glance in Ivy’s direction. He probably doesn’t even know she’s there.
“We all went crazy when you caught that fifteen yard pass and then made it through like five guys before scoring that touchdown! It was the most amazing play I’ve ever seen in my life!” Grinning like a lunatic, he shakes his head again. “Only you, King! Only you could do something like that.”
I smile tightly as he continues yammering on about one of the upcoming games. Ivy is watching the whole exchange with a curious stare as if we’re primates at the zoo that she’s somehow trying to wrap her mind around. I don’t like it. I don’t want her watching me like I’m part of some damn circus act.
I get that enough as it is.
It suddenly occurs to me that I actually like that Ivy isn’t caught up in all the football hype and BS. In the few conversational exchanges we’ve had thus far, not once has she brought up football or the NFL. It’s like she’s totally oblivious to all of it.
Thankfully Chad, the dude who took our order and has pretty much yapped my ear off for the last five minutes, hands us our smoothies. I know his name is Chad because he told me like three times. The girl who actually made our smoothies had to clear her throat twice before finally tapping him on the shoulder to get his attention because he wouldn’t stop talking.
Thanking him, I hand Ivy hers before turning away from the front counter.
“Hey, King?”
I almost grit my teeth as Chad calls out my name with a hopeful note tinging his voice. But I don’t. That’s not the way to handle fans and I know it. These people enjoy watching me play and they spend their hard earned money at the stadium. I’m appreciative of that fact. Instead I keep the relaxed look plastered across my face. “What’s up?”
“Um… would you mind signing this piece of paper for my little brother?” His face reddens. “He’s a huge fan. And I just know you’re gonna go pro this year.”
“Of course.” I walk back to the counter before taking the pen he’s holding out to me. “What’s his name,” I ask as I get ready to write my usual shtick.
“Oh… um, er, Chad.”
Glancing up, I meet his eyes. His face looks as if it’s going to burst into flames any moment. Zits and all. “No problem.” Then I get busy writing so we can get the hell out of here.
Finished, I hand him the pen before saying goodbye. Glancing around the small shop, I notice a few other people now watching me. Placing my hand on the small of Ivy’s back, I maneuver her out of the shop. Once the door closes behind us, I inhale a deep breath of fresh air and continue walking towards my truck which is parked in the lot next to the dance studio.
Ivy doesn’t say a word. She just continues sipping away on her smoothie. I can’t imagine what she’s thinking.
When we’re close enough, I click the automatic locks and open the door for her. She shoots me a surprised look before murmuring a quick thanks. Then I’m hustling around the front and sliding in besides her.
Is it completely weird that I like having her next to me in my truck?
You know what’s even weirder than that?
I’ve never driven a girl anywhere in this SUV.
When I said I was only into hook ups, I wasn’t kidding. And I don’t ever make the mistake of bringing them back to my place either. Because I did that once and it took a hell of a long time to convince her that it was time to leave when we were finished knocking boots.
I huff out a relieved breath that we’re finally alone in my truck and away from Chad and all the other curious onlookers. Sometimes it really does feel like I’m a monkey at the zoo.
My eyes slide to Ivy only to find hers already settled on me as if she’s silently assessing me. She takes another long pull from her straw as she continues watching me. My eyes slip from hers to those ruby red lips sucking on the straw. My junk stirs again wondering what it would feel like to have her suck me with such single minded determination. Yeah… now probably isn’t the best time to be fantasizing about a blow job.
I’ll just save that for another time.
My eyes slice back up to hers as she says, “So… you play football, huh?”
I can’t help the surprised chuckle that escapes from my lips. As I laugh, a small smile curves her beautiful mouth upwards. “Yeah, a little bit, but I’m not very good.”
The smile grows, transforming her face until she’s probably the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever laid eyes on. And just like in the dance studio, when I’d been watching her soar across the room, the breath catches at the back of my throat. It’s such an odd and unexpected feeling.
“I kind of inferred that from the convo in the smoothie shop. It must suck riding the bench.”
I compress my lips together so I’ll stop smiling. But it’s not working. Clearing my throat, I finally say, “Yeah, it does. I’m really more of a glorified water boy than anything else.”
“Well, just keep working hard, I’m sure you’ll improve. With any luck, you could be Barnett’s very own Rudy.”
I almost start choking. It takes a moment before I’m able to say, “That’s some solid advice. Thanks.” Rudy… I freaking love that movie. I mean, who doesn’t? I eye her with just a little bit more appreciation for being able to work that cinematic gem into our conversation. And trust me, I’ve been seriously appreciating her ever since I first laid eyes on her this afternoon.
With the tension completely broken between us, I pick up my smoothie before taking a hearty pull from the straw. Even though Ivy and I have spoken a few times, it never occurred to me that she might have a sense of humor. She’s usually glaring way too much to let it show.
With curiosity filling her eyes, she finally asks, “Does that kind of thing happen often?”
She’s kidding right?
I shrug my shoulders. Over the years, I’ve grown used to the attention. Normally it doesn’t bother me at all. But then again, I’ve never had a girl at my side and our conversation totally hijacked either. This is actually the first t
ime I’ve ever felt irritated that someone wanted to talk football with me.
“Often enough.”
She looks thoughtful. “And you don’t mind all the attention?”
Well, I never have before today…
“Not really. It’s just part of being a high profile athlete, I guess.” It’s always been like that. Even back in high school, I was getting noticed for my football playing abilities.
“It must be exhausting to be on like that all the time.”
Instead of replying to that comment, I take another long pull from my straw as her words roll around in my head.
Again I shrug my shoulders. It’s all just part of playing ball. Part of being good and having NFL scouts looking, talking, and making predictions about you. It’s what I’ve worked my entire life for. “It doesn’t bother me,” I say again almost as if I’m trying to convince myself instead of her.
Glancing away, she looks over at the smoothie shop across the street. “I think that would bother me. I like being anonymous.”
I don’t think I’ve ever been anonymous. Even back in high school I couldn’t go anywhere in town without people talking to me about football and college and my chances of turning pro.
Hell, Dylan told me a few weeks ago that there was a picture of me disappearing inside the men’s room posted on some stupid website.
Can you believe that shit?
Thank god whoever was snapping the photo didn’t actually follow me in.
Not wanting to discuss my pseudo-celebrity status any longer, I steer the conversation in another direction. “So we’ll head back to your place, you can change, pick up your computer and we can take off for the library.”
She takes one last pull from her straw, finishing off her pomegranate berry smoothie before agreeing with my plan. Again something stirs in my boxer briefs.
Two hours later, we’re camped out at the library. We both have our laptops out and are typing away as we formulate a loose outline of what our project will entail. It may sound a little obvious, but we’ve decided to delve into the Bernie Madoff Ponzi scheme.
Because that dude couldn’t be more unethical if he tried. There’s so much material to work with, it’s almost overwhelming. Entire books, along with articles in business journals and newspapers, have been written about this subject, so research is plentiful. And I don’t think I’m the only one who finds it interesting either because Ivy has been riveted to her computer screen for the last hour. Every so often, she shakes her head, sharing some tidbit she’s stumbled across.
For just a moment, I sit back and watch her work. My eyes start at the top of her head. Her light brown colored hair is still piled high on her head in a messy bun like it was last night. Even thinking about her spending time alone with Finn McKenzie has me gritting my teeth. Her bright green eyes flash with intensity and focus.
Hell, I bet if I packed up all my shit and just walked away, she wouldn’t even notice.
I almost snort.
That shouldn’t turn me on… but damn if it doesn’t.
I’m used to girls tripping over themselves and each other just to get to me. Brows sliding together, I rack my brain for a time when I actually had to work to get a girl’s attention. Middle school, maybe? It sure as shit wasn’t in high school or college. Nope, chicks have always been plentiful. Hell, I’m usually knee deep in pussy any given night of the week.
But being with Ivy is kind of… nice. I’m enjoying the time we’re spending together. She’s smart. And pretty. Not to mention really limber…
Because what happened at the smoothie shop has made me a bit more cautious, we’re buried way back in the stacks on the second floor. The last thing I want is to be interrupted by people who want nothing more than to inform me that the football team is off to a great start and ask how I think we’re going to fair against Buffalo, one of our biggest conference rivals, next weekend.
I also grabbed a ball cap from my apartment and now have it pulled low over my brow. My lips twitch thinking about meeting Ivy earlier in the hallway when we were leaving for the library. She had looked me over before asking if this was what the Roan-King-version of incognito looked like.
Not bothering to answer, I just grabbed her hand and towed her out to my truck.
Like I said before, I like her sense of humor. And I like that she’s finally allowing me to catch a glimpse of it. I feel like she’s actually showing me who the real Ivy Kaster is.
Finally surfacing from the impressive amount of research she’s gathered, Ivy glances up from her computer screen before our eyes catch and hold. It’s probably for the best if she doesn’t realize that I’ve been staring at her for a good five minutes now.
Something like that could potentially creep her out.
I swear she becomes more attractive every single time I look at her.
Someone needs to seriously explain how that’s even possible.
Something inexplicable tightens in the pit of my gut before I finally clear my throat. “I think we’ve made a good dent with all the research we collected today. Plus, we have a solid game plan regarding the direction we’re going to take this project in.”
Nodding, her teeth sink into that plump little bottom lip of hers. Lowering her eyes from mine, she suddenly shifts in her chair before murmuring, “I’m really sorry for assuming that you weren’t serious about this project.”
Not saying a word, I lean back in my chair before stretching my long legs out in front of me. I’m actually a little surprised she’s bringing this up. Hesitantly her eyes lift before catching mine again. “I didn’t want to get stuck with someone who wasn’t equally invested in putting the time in to both this class and the project.”
Because I’m genuinely curious as to how she jumped to that conclusion without really even knowing me, I keep my tone neutral. “Why would you think that?”
She jerks her narrow shoulders into a tight shrug.
But I can’t resist pushing for an answer. “Because I’m good at football, you just assumed I didn’t have much going on upstairs?” As soon as the words shoot out of my mouth, red stains flag her cheeks.
Looking uncomfortable, she shifts in her seat. “Well… it’s not like I ever see you taking notes in class.”
She thought I wasn’t taking this class, or my entire freaking college education for that matter, seriously because she never sees me taking notes? “I record all the lectures on my computer and it transcribes them for me so I can actively listen to the lecture and participate in class discussions. That’s what works best for me.”
Her pink hued lips slowly tumble open.
For some strange reason I feel the need to prove this to her, so I click on the file that has all my classes listed in order. Then I turn the computer towards her before using the touch screen to open up our business ethics class. I watch her eyes quickly scan through the list of dated notes before slowly bouncing back up to mine.
If she didn’t look so appropriately chastised, which- damn it, is hot, I’d be a hell of a lot more pissed off. “I’m really sorry, Roan. I jumped to conclusions about you that obviously aren’t true.”
I cock a brow. “You mean the stereotype that all jocks are stupid and just get passed through the system because of their athletic abilities and what they’re able to do for the university?”
Even though I don’t intend the words to sound harsh, she still winces. After all, it’s nothing I haven’t heard before. It just sucks she naturally assumed that about me.
“Yeah, I guess so.” Silently she worries her lower lip between her teeth as if she’s debating something with herself. Finally she whispers, “I actually asked Dr. Paulson if she would consider giving me a different partner to work with.” She holds my eyes steadily as she admits this.
Do I tell her that I already know she tried ditching me?
You know what? I think I’m going to. She needs to understand that I’m not the idiot she apparently thinks I am.
“Yeah, I
know.”
Her eyes widen until I can see all the multifaceted flecks of green that make up the spectrum of hues within them.
Before she can even wrap her lips around the words, I continue, “I could tell that’s what you were talking about with Dr. Paulson. I’m a pretty decent lip reader.”
Instead of looking impressed with my admission, because come on, it’s like a talent, she narrows her eyes. “Seriously?”
Making a split decision, I jump out of my chair before closing the distance that separates us. Grabbing her hand, I tug her to her feet. And then we’re on the move.
“Where are we going?” Her words sound breathless as I pull her along behind me.
“I want to show you something.”
With her free hand, she motions to our computers and bags. “But what about all our stuff?”
“No one’s over here. And we’ll only be gone for a few minutes, I promise.”
It takes a moment or two before we enter the main part of the library where there are about twenty or so tables all clustered together. Pulling my Bulldogs ball cap a little lower, I scan the surrounding area until I see a couple sitting at one of the wooden tables. They have books spread out between them but they’re way too deep in conversation to be doing any actual studying. In fact, it looks as though they’re in the middle of a heated exchange.
Which is perfect.
I can’t help but realize that Ivy’s fingers are still enclosed in mine and that they feel damn good. Kind of like they belong there. She trails behind me as I find a table for us to park ourselves at. Once we’re both seated on the same side next to one another, I glance around making sure I’ve gone undetected. Which I have.
Leaning towards her, I point to the couple I’ve scoped out for this little exercise.
“Okay,” pausing, I study his lips, “he just asked why she’s so pissed off.” My eyes swivel instantly to the girl. Moving a little closer to Ivy, I talk in a hushed tone. At first I think she might balk at how close I am, but then I whisper, “She says she doesn’t like the skank who was just over here talking to him.” Her entire body relaxes as I continue. My eyes slide back to the dude. “He’s saying he barely knows the girl.” I pause. “Oh, she’s saying that he seems to know her pretty well and if he’d rather be with someone like that, there are plenty of other guys who are interested in being with her.” Ivy stifles a small giggle and I can’t resist smiling as I continue following their conversation.
King of Campus Page 11
