“Swiss or cheddar?”
This would be a lot easier if we didn’t have to talk. It’s frustrating that nothing I say annoys him while everything he says makes me want to slap his perfectly sculpted face.
To avoid showing how frustrated I am with him which is sure to encourage him to keep the bit going, I ignore his question and take a step around him.
“Wait,” Trent says, taking my hand.
My stomach flutters at how gentle his calloused grip is on my soft skin. It makes sense. He has to have a nimble touch to catch footballs as effortlessly as he does. As annoying as he is there’s no denying his talent on the field.
Unfortunately, I fail to hide my frustration when I look over my shoulder and ask, “What?”
“The library is too far from the field. I’ll be late for practice and won’t get my full hour of tutoring.”
“If this is your way of trying to get me alone to make a move—.”
“I need to pass this class, Meghan, and maintain my place on the team. I joke around but I’m serious about getting the most out of our time together.”
There’s an unexpected amount of sincerity in his voice and a desperation in his eyes that I can’t ignore. If he’s being honest, I can’t deny him. It’s my job. If I don’t do it, he has every right to report me to the agency. I can’t lose this job. It’s the only thing keeping me from going hungry.
Letting the tension in my body go, I take a deep breath and turn back to stare at my door.
No matter how serious he is, being alone with him in my dorm room is still a terrible idea. As much as I hate to admit it, I’m attracted to Trent in the worst way. No matter what my brain tells me about the regret I’ll suffer, my body will fight for the feel of his hands all over it. Gripping my hair. Gliding down my back. Around my waist. Between my…
“The common room,” I shout. Unable to control the volume of my voice while trying to push the image of Trent slipping his hands down my pants out of my head. “It’s just down the hall. We can work there.”
“After you, Teach,” Trent says and follows me.
Chapter four
Trent
Summerandcitrus.Notjust any summer day but the hottest one with a cool breeze through a forest right after it rains. Suddenly, I’m not following Meghan down a dormitory hallway anymore. We’re walking the gravel path to my family’s cabin in the mountains.
She’s wearing hiking boots, shorts that barely cover her heart-shaped ass, and a white camisole. It gets soaked through when the rain takes us by surprise. The translucent fabric clings to the gentle curves of her breasts and waist.
My hands twitch with the need to hold her. Strip her naked and trace every soft line of her body. With my fingers, then my tongue.
“Trent?” Megan’s voice floats across my mind. My body shakes as she says my name again. More clearly. On the edge of frustration. “Trent.”
“What? Oh. Sorry.” Luckily, she shakes me loose of the fantasy before my dick gets too hard to hide behind my handful of books.
“You okay? You were a million miles away.”
“Yeah. Fine.” I keep my crotch covered until I sit next to Meghan on the common room couch. Hunched over my lap, I take my time opening my notebook and finding the unit in my stats book I’ve been struggling with.
“So,” Meghan says, scooting closer until her thigh touches mine. Not helping at all with the half-chub I’m already struggling to hide. It gets even worse when she gathers her tawny mane in her hands, twists it around a pencil to pin it all on the crown of her head, then pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose as she asks, “Where does it all go wrong for you?”
Wrong?
None of this is wrong.
No. This is the most right anything has felt since I caught my first football.
That’s not what she’s talking about. Meghan’s asking about my stats homework.
Focus, Brewer, my coach's voice echoes inside my head.
It’s a battle to keep my mind on track. Desperate to walk down that gravel path again. Or drag her down the hallway into her dorm room, throw her down on the couch, and fuck her brilliant brains out.
