She put her hands on her hips, shaking her head. “Fiery cock_257 it is you.”
They guy’s mouth dropped open. “I don’t know what you’re—”
“That is your username,” she said, pointing at him. “I recognize you from your profile picture on Heath Center’s emergency chat line. Remember me? Roxie? I helped you with your problem last week. You had that red rash on your dick. Did that cream the nurse told me to recommend to you help?”
I covered my mouth, an attempt to conceal the fact I was about to seriously lose my shit in a fit of laugher. The guy in front of me looked anything but amused. He made to back away, but his friend behind him, he was also losing his mind in laughter, blocked his path.
The short guy whipped around. “Shut the fuck up, dude.”
He didn’t stop, and the girl, Roxie, kept on. She pointed at his friend this time. “Is this your partner?”
The guy’s laughter cut off full stop and both men looked like they were going to vomit. I, on the other hand, couldn’t catch my breath I was laughing so hard and had to hold my stomach just to get ahold of myself. Before I knew it, the guys were backing away.
The short dude pointed at me. “We’ll let it go this time, Griffin, but I suggest you and your team start playing the way you should.”
This guy really had no intimidation points left, and I think he knew it because he ran off with his ‘partner’ before I could respond.
Turning, I had to give this girl Roxie a light round of applause. Five foot nothing, and she managed to chase away two grown men. Well, at least one and a half grown men.
“That was awesome,” I told her.
Grinning her full lips, she shrugged. “No big. People sometimes forget that all anonymity goes out the window when you leave your profile icon on.”
I crossed my arms. “Still. It was brilliant.”
Biting her lip, she dipped her head. This girl was a shy one, though by what she just did she could have fooled me.
I held out my hand for her to shake. “I’m Griffin. Griffin Chandler.”
Pushing her laundry bag up on her shoulder, she took my hand. She was very smooth. Her skin that is. “Roxie Peterson.”
I nodded. Taking back my hand, I pushed them both into my pockets. “So you work at the Heath Center’s chat line?”
She shook her head, her long hair flowing. “Not really. I participate in an intermural on Thursday nights. Our group volunteered to do the help line. A one time thing.”
She played sports? I wondered which one and why I hadn’t seen her before. My team practiced nearly every night in the largest of the four gyms. I should have passed her at least once. I wanted to inquire about what she played, but she was already moving away from me.
I caught up to her in only two strides to the maybe six she took. She was struggling with the not one, but two bags on her shoulder. One looked to be a laptop bag, the other a laundry bag. I thought to help her.
“Hey, let me get that for you,” I said, reaching for the computer bag first. “What building are you headed to? I can walk you.”
She raised her hands. “No. It’s fine—”
“Don’t be silly. You shouldn’t be walking around this late by yourself. You saw those guys.” I managed to get the computer bag off her shoulder, but when I grabbed for the laundry she backed away.
“Really, Griffin. You don’t have to. You’ve got your own laundry,” she said, motioning to my abandoned white hamper I tossed before the fight.
I nearly forgotten about that, but I wanted to help her. My stuff could wait. “It’s no big deal.”
I got her other bag, and I had to pause, not because it was heavy, but because of the wave of scent that hit the chilled night air when I did. The smell I recognized instantly, and my awareness drifted off at the pull of it. That smell was the reason I was rushing back down to the laundry room so quickly, trying to get there before I ran out of time.
I must have been in daze because suddenly the bag was off my shoulder and back on Roxie’s arm. She took her computer bag then stepped back away from me.
“Goodnight, Griffin,” she said simply before turning around.
I went to move after her, but I had a strong feeling my efforts would only end in defeat. At five foot nothing, Roxie Peterson had some fight. That was one thing I knew for sure.
I cupped my mouth with my hand. “I’ll figure out a way to return the favor for tonight. Don’t think this is over.”
Her head moved only slightly to look over her shoulder, but she didn’t stop. Nor did she turn around. Facing forward, she turned the corner and that was the last I saw of Super Girl Roxie Peterson.
Smiling to myself, I picked up my basket and ran inside. I went to the dryer I always went to dry my things in. At first I only used that dryer because someone always left time on it, but that changed when I opened it.
I did just that, opening it like I had weeks prior, and that familiar smell of warm brown sugar and softener sheets hit my nose like it did the first time. I finally knew the owner of that smell as I filled the dryer with my wet clothes.
Roxie.
About the Author
Victoria H. Smith has a Bachelor’s Degree in Political Science. She puts it to good use writing romance all day. She resides in the Midwest with her Macbook on her lap and a cornfield to her right. She often draws inspiration for her stories from her own life experiences, and the characters she writes give her an earful about it.
In her free time, she enjoys extreme couponing, reading, watching Scandal, and general geekery in the form of Sherlock and DC Comics. She’s a bestselling author and the 2014 Swirl Award winner for Best New Adult Romance, as well as the recipient of the 2015 AMB Ovation Award for her new adult romance FOUND BY YOU. She writes both new adult and adult fiction in many genres, but mainly focuses in contemporary interracial and multicultural romances.
Check out my Amazon profile for a list of my other books
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Roxie & Griffin: A Found by You Novelette Page 6
