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As I walk across Taber’s impeccable lawns, the buzz of activity increases with every step closer to the freshmen dorms. The excitement in the air is so palpable I can’t help but smile, absorbing some of the pulsing energy radiating from campus.
Taber University has woken once more.
Catching sight of someone struggling to carry three boxes stacked high, I quickly jog over.
“Hey there! Let me help you.” I snatch the top two boxes off their load only to realize this person was balancing all three boxes on one hand because the other hand is preoccupied with a bag full of books andthe handle of a suitcase.
I raise my eyebrows, meeting the startled eyes that appear from behind the stack of boxes I just removed.
“I hate doing more than one trip,” the girl mumbles the words, shaking her golden-brown ponytail out of the way and ducking to pick upanotherbag with her almost-free hand. Jesus.
Remember when I mentioned that thing called strategy? Apparently this pack mule has never heard of it.
Shifting to tuck my own stack under one arm, I lean forward to pick up the bag the girl is struggling to get a grip on. Now, before we continue, let me just state for the record that what happens next is not from my lack of strategy, but from the evil genius of Sir Isaac Newton. Otherwise known as the force of gravity.
Intelligent science people would give you an equation for why my one-handed grab turns into a full-blown body slam due to boxes shifting, my momentum changing, etc. All I can tell you is one moment I’m saving a pretty freshman from a life of back pain, and the next I’m sprawled on top of Miss One Trip with cardboard boxes falling all around us.
Chapter 2
Lou
You have got to be kidding me.
When I told my mother I’d go get the rest of my stuff, and no I didn’t need any help, I didn’t realize how much was left to be carried in. An oversight on my part? Absolutely. But I had been managing just fine until some guy came along to “help” and now lies on top of me. Sure, it was nice of him to grab some of my boxes, and yes maybe I was struggling the teensiest bit before he came along, but at least I hadn’t been flat on my back with my underwear and God knows what else blowing around Taber’s manicured lawns.
I try to squirm out from under this stranger, but my limbs won’t move. He has successfully trapped me with his rock-hard body, which would be exciting except for the fact my lungs are slowly being crushed.
“Can you… get off?” Wheezing, I send up a prayer that the bodybuilder on top of me isn’t unconscious. Based on the burning sensation in my chest, I’ve got two minutes, tops. Mind you, to suffocate under a muscular man is not the worst way to go and at least now I won’t have to sleep on that dorm mattress.
The pros are starting to outweigh the cons here.
A breathless eternity goes by until finally the heavy-weight champion flops to the ground beside me with a groan. Now we’re like two kids making snow angels with my fallen clothes. On the front lawn of the residence building. For all my neighbours to see.
Killing it already, Lou.
Having successfully restored oxygen to my diaphragm, I scramble to my feet and begin wildly snatching the items closest to me. Good news is none of the boxes broke in the tackle; bad news is my lacy thongsandgranny panties are casually lying in a halo around the guy still on the ground. Not sure if his immobilization or his proximity to my cheek-covering knickers is more concerning. Arguably the latter.
“Whoa,” the stranger slowly sits up and looks around, blinking at my hasty clothing retrieval. Taking a quick look at him, I stifle a groan at his tussled midnight-coloured hair. Guys might be able to pull off the rumpled, just-took-a-quick-tumble-and-landed-flat-on-my-ass look, but there’s no way I came out of this looking half as good. Especially considering I was the one plastered against the ground.
Consciously reaching up to touch what’s left of my ponytail, I sigh as I feel half of it hanging loose. Oh, and now there’s grass falling out.
Have I ever said how much I love first days?
“Do you think anyone got a video of that? We just ate shit.” My attention snaps back to the laughing stranger who’d nearly been the cause of my untimely asphyxiation and is currently the cause of my social destruction. Somewhere during my hasty snatch-and-grab system, Mr. Helpful got up from the ground and now stands directly in front of me, his shadow throwing shade over my face as I glare up at him.
“I was a little busy being tackled to the ground to notice.” I huff, trying not to drop the bundle in my arms as I register the level of hotness standing before me. The darkness of his hair and thick eyebrows offset sparkling green eyes (nope, didn’t know eyes could sparkle either), while the boyish grin taking up his face only gets cuter when dimples pop out on either side. Cursing my generation for its obsession with straight teeth, I also note the perfect, glistening white alignment of his smile.
From what I can tell, the only indication of our fall are the few strands of dark hair sticking a little too far out for the casual messy look. Otherwise, this six-foot bodybuilder looks untouched. I’m annoyed at this walking toothpaste commercial already, and that’s beforehe opens his mouth.
“I think the words you’re looking for are thank you,” he smirks in my direction, bending to grab the lacy thong that fell from my grasp.
I stare at him in disbelief, words spluttering out before I have a chance to think. “I’m supposed to thank you for… bodychecking me? Dumping all my clothes on the ground? No, wait. I got it. Thank you for the full body suffocation. I really appreciate it.” I snatch the thong from his hands and dump my bundle into a now-empty box.
“Hey, if you didn’t decide to become the world’s worst pack mule we could have easily made it to your dorm, which would have been entirely thanks to me swooping in to save the day. I can’t remember, did I or didn’t I grab two boxes off your initial load?” He taps his chin in mock consideration, then uses his finger to shoot me with an imaginary gun. “That’s right, I did. Guess that means it’s 1 point for me and none for Miss One Trip.”
Logic has never been so lacking.
Pulling my brows into a scowl, I open my mouth to list all the ways that argument made no sense when a voice rings out over the crowd.
