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“Daughter,” I correct her.
“I should have known,” she laughs. “There’s a resemblance there. Girls talk about your dad being hot all the time.”
“Oh, that’s…comforting.”
“It’s okay, they won’t say it to your face.” She grins. “He thinks I’ll be a good influence on you.”
“Will you be?” I cock an eyebrow at her. She doesn’t strike me as being nearly as cookie-cutter as I am.
Or, as cookie-cutter as I used to be.
“Eh, maybe. Come on, I’ll show you around.”
As we weave our way through the campus, Sierra launches into an animated rundown of the social landscape that stretches out before us. “So, here’s the lay of the land,” she says, sweeping an arm across the view of the quad where clusters of students lounge. “You’ve got your cliques, your loners, your activists…and then there’s the elite.”
“Elite?”
“Yup.” Sierra nods knowingly. “The crème de la crème, the untouchables. They’re the ones with charm and power wrapped around their fingers.” She tilts her chin toward a group. “That’s the inner circle. You have the jocks, the geniuses, and then…the heartthrobs.” Her tone drops to a conspiratorial whisper. “You’re pretty cute, so I could totally see you being one of them.”
“Trust me, I’m not interested,” I tell her. “I’m beyond over guys.”
“Going monk, huh?” Her lips quirk up at the corners, but her eyes are soft, understanding. “Can’t blame you. Sometimes it’s good to detox from the drama.”
“Exactly,” I say, glad she seems to get it.
Detox. The word lingers in the air. A cleansing, a purge of past entanglements and distractions. It’s what I need—crave, even.
As we stride along the flagstone path, I notice him—Conrad York leans against a column with the easy confidence of a man who knows his own allure. His smirk is a silent siren song, reminding me of everything we’ve done together.
“Isn’t he yummy?” Sierra asks, nodding toward him.
“You know him?” I ask.
“Who doesn’t? Professor York has a reputation for sleeping with some of his best-looking students.”
My jaw drops. She has to be kidding.
“Rumors or truth?” I ask, trying to stop myself from shaking.
“Both, probably. Guy’s like catnip for anyone with a pulse.” She chuckles. “You’d think being a silver fox would make him feel old, but god, him and rest of the sexy society are the best-looking men I’ve ever seen.”
“Sexy society?” I repeat.
“Oh, right. You’re new. Conrad York, Grayson Bass, and Levi Griffin. They’re the three sexier-than-sin professors we have here. They look like they should be in some kind of movie, rather than teaching here of all places.”
“That sounds cheesy.” What would she do if she knew I’d slept with two members of the society?
“Oh, trust me. When you see them, you’ll be dropping your panties.”
I blush. I already have.
I change the subject. “I should probably head to my first class. I want to make sure I’m not late and leave a good impression.”
“Let me look at your schedule.” She peeks down at the piece of paper before a smile overtakes her face. “Oh, you get to meet my favorite sexy society professor. Trust me, you’ll love him!”
* * *
Levi Griffin stands at the front, his presence commanding the space with an effortless authority that has nothing to do with his title. His eyes scan the room, pausing—a flicker too long—on me. Heat blossoms in my chest.
