I shove myself to my feet, dusting my hands on the back of my jeans. “Thanks for the save,” I mock.
His attention turns back to me. “Why were you walking with Hunt?” he asks, his gaze probing.
“Who?”
“Hunt?” At my blank look he huffs. “Deacon Hunt. The guy you were talking to on your way over here. Why were you talking to him?”
“Am I not supposed to?” I ask, not bothering to answer his question as I head to my next class. I have ten minutes before it starts, but I’d rather Dominique think I don’t have time to talk at the moment. Instead of dropping it, though, he falls into step beside me, his long strides eating through the distance and instinctively making me speed up until I realize what I’m doing and force myself to slow down.
“He’s on the team,” he says and his frown deepens. He slows down once he sees I’m no longer beside him.
“Why is that a problem? You, Roman, and Emilio are all on the team too.”
We walk in silence together for several minutes before he finally says, “It’s not the same.”
I bark out a laugh. “I’m sorry. How exactly is it different?”
He glowers down at me, but I refuse to be affected.
“You know what jocks are like. They’re not better in college than they were in high school. They’re worse.”
I roll my eyes. “Yes, I’m well aware. I have three guy friends who are damn near football gods with a well-established reputation for being man-whoring assholes. Luckily, two met the girls of their dreams and have since been reformed, the third...” I make a show of thinking it over, tapping my finger against my lower lip. “The third is still up to his asshole man-whoring ways. It’s sad, actually. He’s a bit of a lost cause.”
Dominique’s gaze sharpens. “I’m not a man-whore.”
I snort. “At least you don’t deny you’re an asshole.”
His teeth grind together. I struck a nerve with that one.
“I don’t have to explain myself to you.”
“Ding. Ding. Ding. You are one hundred percent right.”
His eyes widen the smallest amount, but it’s enough to relay his surprise at my words. Oh, he made this too easy and doesn’t even realize it yet.
“And I should respect that. So, I will. And since you brought it up, you must also know that I don’t need to explain myself to you, either.” I grin, my smile widening the darker and more hooded his expression gets.
I know Mom always said you should never poke a bear, but I don’t think she realized just how much fun it could be.
A growly sound rumbles deep in his chest.
“He’s a player.”
I shrug my shoulders. “Cool. I don’t really care.”
“You don’t.”
I roll my eyes. “Why would I?” I’ve already decided I’m not dating the guy, so it’s a non-issue.
Dominique goes quiet again before he barks out a mocking laugh. Shaking his head, his mouth curls into a cruel smile, the one he seems to wear more and more whenever I’m around. “I shouldn’t be surprised.”
I frown. “Surprised by what?” I ask and then kick myself for being so damn predictable. The smart move would have been to ignore his comment. Not to play right into his hands.
His eyes burn with thinly veiled hostility. “That you’ve become like every other chick on campus. Both stupid and shallow if you’re willing to date a known player to gain a little bit of popularity.” He shakes his head as though I’ve somehow disappointed him. “I thought you were better than that.” He shrugs. “Guess I was wrong.”
I ignore his stab, but then he decides to cut a little deeper. “I give you a month. Maybe two before he cheats.” His gaze rakes over me, but there isn’t a hint of desire in his eyes as they travel over my body. Instead, they hold mock pity and disgust. “On second thought, just the one. He’ll lose interest before you hit the second.”
My cheeks heat and I know he can see the blush climbing up my neck.
