“Yes.” I don’t mention half of the men were Nico’s. It’s not Chris’s business.
My father paid a lot of money to the school to have my fake name, Sara S. Baker, added to my records. It’s for my safety and everyone on this campus.
“Why do you have security?” he asks.
“To keep me safe. That’s all I can say.”
“How can I get to know you if you don’t share a part of you with me?”
“We had a good time the other night. Thanks again,” I tell him.
“I’m not looking for anything serious. My studies are important to me. But we can hang out. If you’re worried about your safety and don’t want to hang, I understand.”
“Damn, you’re going to write me off that easy, huh?”
I peer into his handsome dark eyes and shrug. “I know it’s dangerous to be in my presence.”
“That psycho doesn’t seem fazed,” he adds.
That psycho is in the mafia. Of course, I don’t say that.
I arch a brow. “Is this a dick-measuring contest?”
He chuckles. “Naw. Nothing like that. I’m just saying I’m not scared to hang out with you. May I have your phone number?”
“Yes,” I reply.
We halt at the steps of the building and exchange phone numbers.
“Phi Si Ky is throwing a party this Friday night. You should come along.” I smile. “Okay.”
Three weeks later, I stand on the sidelines at the football game against Penn State.
The party I attended with Chris was fun. He tried to kiss me, but I pulled back. I’d only been intimate with one man. To be honest, I didn’t want to run around fucking every guy. I liked only fucking Nico. It had nothing to do with connection. And everything to do with him, knowing my body.
Chris and I hung out a lot. Mostly, sharing meals in the cafeteria. Chris called Nico a psycho because of his over the top theatrics. Flying in a helicopter to spy on me. The sick part of me loved that he was so jealous he had to interrupt my date. Not one Penn State cheerleader touched Nico again after I sent the mice. I smile at the thought. Okay, I admit I have a problem with women fucking Nico. I say I don’t care if he has sex with other women, but then I secretly punish them.
The Penn State football team swarms onto the field. Nico, wearing number thirty-five, sends a kiss my way.
“Wow, he’s so hot! Did he really just blow me a kiss?” Barbara exclaims.
I’m certain that kiss was meant for me. Still, I throw myself fully into cheering.
With our families watching, Nico and I need to be on our best behavior.
As soon as the game kicks off, our team, the Wild Bills, scores its first touchdown of the night. Nico sacks Chris not once or twice, but an impressive four times.
He’s deliberately roughing Chris up. They break into a scuffle on the field.
Everyone assumes the fight is about the plays. But it’s really about me.
Penn State claims victory. The crowd erupts. Nico charges toward me, waving to the roaring fans. He rips off his helmet, his jet-black hair plastered to his forehead.
Beneath the bright field lights, Nico sticks out his tongue like a wild man.
Grinning, he chants, “Penn State,” as he scoops me up, my ass resting on his strong forearms. I clutch his shoulders tightly as he spins me around.
Nico locks eyes with me. “I’m two seconds from snapping your wannabe boyfriend’s neck.”
