“Why thank you,” he drawls out in an awful, overly strong southern accent, winking at me as he brushes past. His shoulder just barely grazes mine as he walks by.
I blame the electric fluttery feeling that shoots through my stomach on my own need for food, although honestly, I’m not even very hungry. I grab my keycard and shove it into the inside pocket of my shorts and head out the door after him. But the way my dick twitched when his skin touched mine when we shook hands? There’s no way to spin the blame for that on my need to eat lunch. Pausing in the doorway, I ogle his strong lean legs and let my gaze travel further north. I tighten my abs to hold back the little hum of approval threatening to slip out from the way his shorts curve around two perfectly tight globe-shaped ass cheeks. Dacen Becker is fucking hot. A little annoying, but hot. Wonder if he’s got a matching set of dimples near his other cheeks?
Across the hall, someone clears their throat. I wrench my attention from Dacen’s hot body and look over. There’s a guy in the doorway staring at me with a peculiar look on his face. He looks familiar and there’s a light of recognition in his eyes when he sees me. I remember him from last year, Bryce something. He opens his mouth to speak but I just nod my head at him and jog down the hall after Dacen. I can only handle so much people-ing at one time, and with the surprise of a different roommate, I’m tapped out. Chatting people up in the hallway is out of my scope of abilities right now. I’m pulled out of my musing when I slam into the wall of man that’s stopped suddenly now that we’re outside.
“Ow,” I groan, rubbing my forehead as I step back. Dacen rubs the back of his head, turning around to look at me.
“Sorry. I wasn’t sure which way to go.”
I ignore his apology and grumble. “I’m gonna get a bruise from your hard-ass skull.” I incline my head up just a tad and the sun shines down on my face. “Is there a mark?”
He grabs my head and carefully tilts it back down, then reaches up to brush his thumb over my forehead. I close my eyes as the sensation flows over me. It smarts, but the pad of his thumb soothes the pain. He rubs back and forth gently a few times.
“A small one but I don’t think it’ll bruise, not much anyway.” His raspy words snake down my body, wrap around my dick and squeeze. My eyes fly open and I’m immediately captivated by his; it’s like staring into the ocean, and whatever I’d heard in his voice, it’s there too, the waves rising higher and higher around us.
“Okay, good,” I choke out and step back, clearing my throat as his hands fall to his sides. My stomach flips and I suck in an unsteady breath. Jesus, how hard did I hit my head?
“So, um, which direction?” Dacen looks every which way but at me, thank God for small favors. I have a bit of a dick dilemma right now, in that my dick is straining to jump out of my boxers.
“There’s a trail that heads into and loops around the town. It’s a few miles and has a nice view.”
He looks over at me—thankfully keeping his eyes up—and smiles. “Sounds good. Lead the way.” He makes the same silly gesture I made in the room, and I bite back a smile as I lead us in the right direction.
* * *
“This is a wicked nice camp.”Dacen’s sprawled out on his bed and tossing a soccer ball up in the air over and over, catching it each time before it smashes into his face. “I’ve never been to one that had bathrooms in each of the bedroom suites. Hell, I’ve never even been to one with bedroom suites before. It’s pretty cool not to have community showers.” He shudders. “I hate those things.”
I grunt and yank my sweaty shirt up and over my head, then toss it onto my bed. There’s a strangled cry behind me and a dull thunk. When I look over, Dacen’s sitting up slowly and rubbing his forehead. The soccer ball rolls across the floor and comes to a stop at my bare feet. I don’t miss the flash of heat in his eyes as they fixate on my stomach. He bites his lip and looks away, then back again. A flush spreads over his cheeks and down his neck. I poke my tongue into my cheek and reach down to pick up the ball. Spinning it on my index finger—a bit of a sacrilege to some people to touch the ball like that—I smirk his direction.
“What’s the matter, Taco Socks? See somethin’ ya like?” When his eyes widen as large as saucers and his flush deepens to an alarming shade of red, I chuckle and toss the ball back to him. There’s some sort of weird correlation between how deep his blush is and how cocky I feel. “I’m gonna go shower now. I think your eyes rolled somewhere under the bed over there.” I jerk my thumb behind me toward my bed. “Ya might wanna put them back in your head while I’m gone.”
Dacen bites down on his knuckle to try to hide his smile, but that doesn’t mask the laughter that dances in his eyes. I grab a change of clothes and saunter into the bathroom. When I glance over my shoulder those dimples of his are on full display again.
I gotta say, I don’t hate it.
19
Dacen
Present Day
Mom and Dad were half asleep when I got home from Matt’s party. I peeked my head in their room to let them know I was back from the party and the puppy barreled out after me. She proceeded to run around in circles over and over downstairs like the psycho-pup she sometimes is, and I’ve finally managed to get her outside.
“Okay, Robin Stark.” I snap on her collar for the invisible fence. “Go do your business.”
She does her thing and then takes it upon herself to attempt to sniff every single blade of grass in the backyard. I drop my head back and peer up at the sky. It’s windy tonight. Branches from the giant oak tree in the yard sway lightly, the leaves rustling overhead. The wind whispers against my cheeks, my chest, and down my arms, warm and soft like a hug. There are no stars visible tonight, though a streak of moonlight peeks through a break in the clouds. A dog barks somewhere in the distance, which sets off a round of barking from Robin Stark. I shush her with lots of pets and give her the small treat I’d carried outside for this very purpose. She quiets down and runs further into the backyard to gobble it up.
The peace of the night surrounds me again, the trees and the dark sky enveloping me. There’s just enough moonlight to cast shadows over everything. It’s quiet now, both eerie and peaceful at once. I tip my head back again and close my eyes, inhaling deeply. A mixture of scents washes over me, earthy richness from the ground, the trees, and the pavement still damp from the rain. I love that weird smell. I whip my head around when the subtle spicy scent of cologne hits me. Glancing side to side, behind me, all around, there’s no one.
“Hello?”
Silence. There’s a lull in the wind. The troublemaker dog down the road has quieted. There’s not even a cricket chirping. Robin Stark runs past me and rushes over to the tree line that butts up against the edge of the driveway back near the alley, wagging her tail. I narrow my eyes and stand up taller.
“Robin Stark, you traitor,” I hiss. She should be back here, protecting me. Not that I need protection if my gut is right. But still, it’s the principle.
A low chuckle echoes quietly through the night, and a few seconds later the calm tree line is disturbed when someone steps forward. He ruffles Robin Stark’s fur and she licks a slobbery kiss over his hand.
I swear to God that dog… It's a good thing she’s cute.
