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“Nope, never,” I promise. “The only Walcott I’m interested in talking to is you.”

She smiles up at me.

“How come you’re a junior pledging Kappa?”

She doesn’t look up at me this time, her eyes fixed on the backs of the people ahead of us. “I needed a change, I guess. And I wanted to be closer to my sister.”

Something about her demeanor makes me wonder if she’s telling me the truth. She seems more closed off now we’re talking about her, so I offer something about myself. “I helped my brother cheat on a test and got suspended from hockey for it.”

Her nose scrunches, more like twitches. “What class?”

“Business law.”

“Isn’t that a first-year elective?”

“Yep. He failed it back then, and now he has to take it again before he can graduate this year.”

“I’m a journalism major,” she offers.

“You want to be a reporter?”

She nods. “Yes. At least that’s the plan.”

“My mom owns an online newspaper. If you ever need an internship, I’m sure she would be willing to help you out.”

A smile illuminates her face. “Thanks. I would love that. We’re supposed to find an internship next year, and everyone on campus already put in for the school paper. So, that doesn’t leave me with many options.”

“The focus of Sports Buzz is sports, though.”

She shrugs. “I’m a fast learner.”

I’m shocked I just offered to introduce Jemma to my mom. None of the girls I hooked up with ever met my mom.

“Do you have another class today?”

She shakes her head. “No, but I have a ton of homework to do and a meeting later at the chapter house.”

“You don’t seem like the sorority type,” I say, hoping she doesn’t punch me.

“I’m not,” she offers. “But my mom was a legacy at Kappa, and my sister is the Queen of Kappa, so I guess you can say it’s in my blood.” She turns to the left, dragging me with her, the remainder of the cone in her other hand. “I live in Penn Hall. You can walk me there, and then I really do have to get going.”

“I’ll walk you to the end of the earth,” I joke.

She laughs. “You’re cute.”

“You’re beautiful.”

A smile tugs at her mouth.

As we walk down the main path that runs through campus, her fingers brush along mine. Our instant connection sparks a shock of electricity that burns my skin.

I’m half tempted to hold her hand, because I want more of her heat. But I don’t want to make her uncomfortable or give her the wrong idea. I don’t date, at least not in the traditional sense, and Jemma seems like a traditional kind of girl. So, why can’t I walk away, leave her alone?

We stop in front of Penn Hall, the tension between us thick. I consider bending down to kiss her but think better of it. The last time was for charity. She might not take too kindly to me claiming her here. Plus, I’m not so sure next time I’ll have as much restraint.

She angles her body away from me, and I grab her hand to steal her attention back to me. “Come to a party this weekend.”

Without hesitation she says, “Where?”

“Delta Sig. It’s their annual Halloween party.”

“I was already planning to go,” she coos.

“Good. Then, I better see you there.”

She smiles. “What kind of costume are you wearing?”

“Legends of hockey past,” I tell her, but she has no idea what I’m talking about. “Dead hockey players,” I add.

“Are they real players who died?”

“Yes to real players, and no, most of them are still alive. But it’s our tradition. Think zombie hockey players.”

Jemma raises her hand to her mouth and chuckles. “This I can’t wait to see.”

“You can’t miss us.” I shove my hands into my pockets and rock back on my heels. “What are you wearing? Playboy bunny? Sexy witch?”

A closed-mouth smile crosses her lips. “I’m not sure yet. I think my sorority sisters might have something planned for us. That’s what our meeting is about tonight, actually.”

Removing my hands from my pockets, I step forward and then hook my arm around her back to pull her into a hug. She smells so good, her delicious fruity scent filling my nostrils. I want to hold her for as long as I can without making this awkward, releasing her slowly.

“Thanks for being my good luck charm.” I wink and she smiles.

“Anytime,” she offers, and then she turns to walk away, raising her hand to wave.

I watch as she climbs the stairs and disappears into Penn Hall. Now, more than ever, I want to go to this party. Because I know one thing. I need to see Jemma again.

Fifteen

Jemma

My heels clack against the pavement, the shoes uncomfortable as fuck. The stilettos are so high I feel like a giant, towering over some of the girls in my sorority. I’m short without them, but I sure as hell look tall tonight.

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