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Her head snaps up, that plump lip is released from her teeth, and her jaw drops. “No, no. I was…I was just checking out—I mean, looking at your chest—the burns! I was looking at the burns.”
Making Blaire nervous might have just become my new favorite hobby.
“It’s okay, baby, you can stare all you want.” I give her a wink and hand her the rag, heading out the bathroom door.
She’s still standing there as I head to my car to get the first aid kit. Being a soccer player means you always have some kind of injury. Keeping a first aid kit is survival 101 for us.
When I get back into the apartment, Blaire is now in the kitchen. She sees me and her cheeks redden as she ducks her head. Her friend, still haven’t gotten her name, is beside her, checking out the burn on her hand.
Holding up the first aid kit, I say, “I come bearing ointment.”
“Dude, you’re such a Boy Scout.” Conrad laughs from the far side of the couch. He rummages through his backpack for a second and comes out with a blue T-shirt. “Here, man, do us all a favor and cover up.”
After removing the supplies I need from the first aid kit, I chuck the bag at his head. It hits him right above the ear. “There’s some aspirin in there for that headache you’re gonna have.”
He flips me off and tosses the bag beside him.
“Here you go,” I say, handing the cream over to Blaire’s friend. “I’m Camden, by the way.”
“Emree,” she states, then begins applying the ointment to Blaire’s hand. “So, how do you two know each other?”
I go to tell her the party story, but Blaire cuts me off. “We have a class together.”
Ahh, so Blaire doesn’t want to be completely truthful with how we really met. Well, I happen to love the story and feel the need to tell the world about our unusual encounter. “You’re not going to tell her about the party, are you, Blaire?”
Her eyes widen and she tucks a piece of loose hair behind her ear.
Emree looks between us, analyzing. “Tell me what exactly?” she questions.
There’s a twinkle in Emree’s eyes and nervousness in Blaire’s.
“Your friend here caught me a bit…exposed that night.” There’s no classy way to explain a chick finding you mid piss with your pants down.
7
BLAIRE
My face could not be any hotter than it is at this very moment.
“Care to explain?” Emree questions, leaning back and crossing her arms.
How do you explain walking around a corner and catching a guy with his pants down, and him doing nothing to cover his…stuff? Oh, and all while he is standing right in front of you.
“Pretty sure he said it all just a second ago,” I snap. Emree’s mouth drops and I don’t blame her. I don’t snap. Ever. Something’s come over me. I didn’t want to give Camden the satisfaction of my embarrassment that I know he would enjoy.
From behind me, someone blows out a drawn-out whistle. “Damn, this girl has got spunk.”
The man Emree has been crushing on comes up beside me and reaches his hand out. “Hi, I’m Conrad. Nice to meet you, Blaire.”
Biting down on my lip, I go to shake his hand, but Camden comes forward and grasps his friend’s shoulders. Conrad drops his arm, and my jaw relaxes.
“Come on, man, let’s get to that studying we came here to do,” Camden says, directing his friend toward the living room where some other guy and a girl are sitting. He grabs the T-shirt his friend offered him and the ointment Emree applied to my hand, then heads to the bathroom, reappearing changed.
As I’m about to follow them, Emree grabs my non-burned hand. “Want to tell me what that was all about?” she asks.
“I can’t,” I tell her honestly. “I don’t even know myself.”
* * *
