Page 35 of Notorious Man on Campus

“That’s what I like to hear.” She turns and leaves me with a racing heart. I turn to the bartender.

“I’ll have an ice water, Hank.”

“Sure thing, Brick.” We’re on a first name basis. I slip a ten-dollar bill in his jar. I’m not switching to ice water because she asked me to. I’m switching because I need to get control of whatever allowed me to call her mom, even in jest. I pick up the glass with a shaky hand and take a long drink as I watch couples and random girls dancing to “Uptown Funk.”

When I spot Nyla, I don’t turn away, finally allowing myself to admire her beauty, for just this one minute. Her dress is plain and pink, her signature color. It’s not new, I don’t think. Her black heels are slightly worn, because even from this distance I can see a scuff mark. But the way she fills out the slinky material of the dress lights me up like I’ve stuck my finger in a socket. The zap runs down my spine and hits my balls, sending my cock into a frenzy. Shit. I need to look away. And I almost do.

Until I see she’s dancing with a guy and it’s not Roman. It should be me. Because Majik asked me to, not any other reason. Not because she’s sexy and warm and… fuck.

Putting down my drained glass of water, which has done nothing to calm my bulging cock, I adjust my jacket to hide whatever might be seen. Thank fuck my pants are loose. Following my line of sight as I watch her, I step onto the dance floor and weave my way through the crowd as the band plays something slower and the unknown guy wastes no time taking her in his arms.

Without a second thought, without a polite tap on his shoulder or any other warning, I take her arm and tug Nyla from the guy’s grasp, pulling her into my arms in one smooth motion and he backs away. I carry it off in spite of my buzzed state because I’m a world-class athlete and not half bad at dancing either.

“Brick.” Her voice is breathless, surprised, and pleased. I suppress my smile.

“Don’t let it go to your head. Majik asked—no—commanded me to dance with you.” She laughs. I’m not sure if she’s laughing at my excuse because she knows better—or thinks she does—or if she’s just giddy over being in my arms. Because I can feel the energy and heat rising between us, that fucking connection like magnets attracting. Fucking chemistry like I’ve never had with another girl, like I never expected to have in my life.

But I don’t care how strong it is, I don’t trust it. Schooling my features, I swing her around and put on a show for Majik since she’s the director of this act.

“I won’t if you won’t,” she says, then presses against me for a beat and gives me a look. That look girls have that screams I’m turned on by you, a smoking-hot look. “Looks like it’s too late, Brick. Your head is very excited to see me.”

I laugh. Fuck me, but I can’t help it. And when she moves away, I pull her close again, all pretense gone. Why bother?

“I’ve always thought you were sexy, Nyla. No secret there.”

“It’s the only thing not a secret,” she says, but her seductive smile stays in place, no edge, no threat she might reveal all. Tension I didn’t realize I had drains from me, loosening my shoulders, and when the song ends, I don’t let her go.

“Two dances?” she asks.

“Sure. If you can stand it, I can.”

“I can stand it so much I could dance you under the table.” She winks. I laugh again. Unprecedented. I might even be enjoying this if I didn’t hate the idea. She sighs. “You’ve been drinking.”

“Not as much as you, but yes. You’ve been watching me.”

“Of course. What girl under eighty in this room isn’t?”

I smirk, but the idea of her lumped in with all the other girls doesn’t sit right.

“Don’t start being dishonest now, Nyla. Your watching me is different than the other girls because you know me. You know better.” I don’t tell her that her honest emotions are the one thing that distinguishes her from every other girl in this room. “You used to be so genuine.”

She sucks in a breath. “You’re something Brick, you know that? You need me to bare all my deepest emotions while you hide yours under a rock so old—”

“That’s the way it is. The way it will always be. Nothing new. It doesn’t mean you should change.” She stares at me and then leans in, resting her cheek against my shoulder like intimate couples do. It shakes me, but only for a moment. I can deal. If she can deal with being an open book, the least I can do is stay closed up and in control for both of our sakes.

When the music stops a few tense moments later, she lifts her head from my shoulder. The desertion sends a shower of icy sorrow shooting through me.

“You’re a mean boy and now I know you can dance like a sexy daydream.” She sighs dramatically. “Don’t blame me if I go all Willow Ford on you.” All Willow Ford as in throwing herself at me? I laugh. It shouldn’t be funny and wouldn’t be except Nyla was there for me at the time, so she has a right to joke about it.

“Don’t remind me of the threat to my football career.” I say the words, but at the moment I don’t feel threatened. I’m still dancing, holding Nyla in my arms as if she belongs here.

“Are you kidding? Nothing is going to stop you from having an amazing football career.”

“Not even you?”

“Least of all me.” She says it like a promise. When the band ends the song this time, I lead her off the dance floor. Maybe I purposefully head in the direction of the open patio doors, maybe not, but either way it seems like a good idea to get some air. The ice water hasn’t gotten to my head yet, judging from the good buzz still there.

“Good idea,” she says as we step outside. “I need cooling off.” Now her tongue is in her cheek and she bursts out laughing. I pull her close to me to show her it’s no laughing matter on my side, though I feel the grin on my face and wonder how it got there without my permission.