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“You guys and your bunnies.”
I smile wider. “I mean, it’s not an awful life, usually.”
“If you say so.” There’s a pregnant pause, and I swear she squirms under my scrutiny.
“I should get back to finding my roommate.” She breaks whatever strange hold we seem to have and diverts her gaze toward the door. “Good luck with your hiding.”
“Thanks,” I chuckle, feeling a little lighter.
As she heads back into the party, I watch her go. Her round ass fills her jeans out perfectly, and an unexpected urge compels me to stop her. Crazy, considering I never chase after girls, especially those who aren’t interested in one-night stands. Her lack of effort in getting ready and absence of flirtation gives off a vibe that screams, “Leave me the fuck alone.” She’s clearly seeking something serious—the opposite of what I desire.
But she’s different from the other girls at these parties—genuine, intelligent, and compassionate. It’s refreshing, and I can’t deny that she intrigues me.
“Maybe one day,” I whisper to myself as I push off the wall and head down the street. For now, though, hockey comes first, and I have to focus on making a name for myself. I’ll worry about it later when I’m forced to. Until then, nothing will bring me down.
CHAPTERTWO
AMANDA
The campus bookstoreis quiet as I clock in for my late afternoon shift. Part of me is relieved. Maybe I’ll have the chance to sneak in some studying. My organic chemistry class is kicking my ass. I need to go back home to review the lab assignment. Plus, carve out time to prepare my summer internship application, but I can’t ditch work. Not only is it a requirement to fulfill the student grant, but I need the money. Scholarships and grants don’t cover rent, food, and other general living expenses. Nope, that’s all on me and the two jobs I work to make ends meet.
I shake away the exhaustion and force a smile on my lips as I greet my boss. “Hey, Mrs. Thompson.”
“Ah, Amanda, right on time,” she says, barely looking up from the cash register. “It’s been slow today. I’ve straightened the store so you can focus on your studies.”
“Thanks. There are a few things I could work on.” I place my book bag under the counter and scan the shelves stretching before me, but Mrs. Thompson speaks the truth. She placed the textbooks and novels strategically. Even the merchandise on the clothing racks hangs in an orderly fashion.
Mrs. Thompson has always been keen on maintaining a peaceful environment, and it shows. There’s no music playing, only the natural soundtrack of the low hum of the air conditioner above. However, the lack of students browsing the shelves makes the store quieter than usual.
I pull out my phone to transfer Grandma’s rent money, which is two days overdue. Her fixed income doesn’t cover all her expenses, and Boston’s rent isn’t cheap. The extra couple hundred dollars I send helps bridge the gap. She hates taking my cash, but I give her little choice. Grandma raised me since I was fourteen. I’ve always worked and helped with bills, even if all I could contribute was fifty dollars. That’s why I struck a deal with her when choosing a college. I’d only accept Cessna U’s offer if she agreed to receive my payment. She wasn’t happy, but I wouldn’t budge. I wanted to attend a closer campus—being almost three thousand miles away wasn’t ideal—but this was the only college that offered a full ride. With years of medical schooling staring at me, I’d take whatever free money they’d provide.
I unlock my Chase account and freeze. The whirling air conditioner becomes a loud ringing as I stare at the near-zero balance. This can’t be right. Beads of sweat break across my forehead as I scroll through the transactions, but the deposit is missing. Where is my money?
“Mrs. Thompson?” My voice cracks. I clear my throat and speak again. “Is there a problem with the paychecks this week?”
“Ah, yes,” she responds, scratching her head. “There’s been a bit of a mix-up when the system went down. The department should have it resolved in a couple of days.”
“Great,” I mutter under my breath, annoyed. Rent can’t wait a few days, and neither can Grandma’s landlord. They’re one day away from tacking on an extra two hundred dollars for a late fee, cutting further into my dismal savings. There goes any chance of flying home for the holidays. Not to mention another week of eating ramen and peanut butter.Fuck my life.
“Looks like your set. I’ll be in the office if you need me.”
I nod and watch Mrs. Thompson amble to the back, unaware of my demise. The last thing I want to do is pick up extra shifts this week at the Pub, but I’m desperate. My gaze drifts to my backpack. What I need is to polish my summer intern application, not work longer hours.
I fire off a text asking for additional shifts when the door to the bookstore swings open. Startled by the interruption, I suck in a breath as Blake Morton walks in. His presence is like an enigma, undeniably commanding with his athletic build and brooding demeanor. His dark, wavy locks fall in a careless yet perfectly arranged manner, framing that strong jawline always covered in scruff. There’s no denying his good looks.
“Hey, Amanda.” Towering over the bookshelves, he chews the distance between us with a few long strides.
His charming smile catches me off guard. I quickly compose myself, not wanting to show my surprise that he remembers my name. We have a mutual friend in Ryan, but Saturday was the first time Blake and I talked. Before then, I always saw him as arrogant, just another spoiled rich guy with the Midas touch of wealth, looks, and talent. “Did you manage to escape on Saturday night?”
“Yeah,” he chuckles but then hesitates, glancing around at the empty store. That’s when I catch a hint of panic in those striking blue orbs. “I was hoping to hide out for a bit.”
“Hide?” I raise my eyebrow, intrigued.
“Long story,” he shrugs. “But I promise I won’t cause any trouble.”
“All right,” I agree, unable to resist his charm—the same one that pulled me in the other night. Talking to him had been interesting and, dare I say, normal? After witnessing a different side to him, I see the lure. Sure, he’s cocky, but there’s an adorableness to him. He has a way of drawing you in that leaves you enamored and wanting more. That must be the reason I fell asleep with him on my mind.
Or maybe I just needed a release, and he happened to be the only cute guy I carried an actual conversation with. It has been a while since the last time I got some. Either way, he’s a total fuck boy. One I need no part of. I have zero time for guys. What’s the point? They always leave in the end, anyway.
