Chapter 2 #2
Was I? No. Could I tell him that? No. My lips wouldn’t cooperate and form words.
Instead, my rebellious gaze wandered over his neck and down his bare arms, taking in the black ink that wove across every inch of his skin in flawless designs that hammered in the point that he belonged in a gallery.
A statue of a woman with a crack across her cheek.
A snake with its tongue out curling around a maze.
Geometrical designs. A phoenix that stretched up across his right bicep.
They were all so fucking beautiful. A tattooed woman’s face smoldered at me from his throat, above a heavy silver chain held closed with a lock.
My attention slid to his hands on my chest, where he scraped away more of the thick smoothie.
His fingers were decorated with silver rings that matched his nose piercing and earrings.
I couldn’t look away. Didn’t want to.
“Can I make this up to you?” He had an accent, not much, but something that wasn’t from New York. I couldn’t pinpoint which part of the country he was from. “I’m Ren.”
Ren. Even his name was inventive.
Finally, I forced my tongue to work. “KC.” I swallowed around a lump that formed in my throat. “My name. KC.”
He smiled then and stole my breath. What a thief. I’m reporting him to the police.
“Pleasure to meet you, KC. Can I buy you another?” He nodded at the plastic cup on the sidewalk.
“Another?” I glanced down at my shirt, wet and sticking to my chest, my hard nipples visible through the soaked material, and I flushed. “I . . . . No. It happens, right?” I laughed awkwardly, heat blasting my cheeks until I thought I’d die from the embarrassment. “You don’t have to.”
“I want to.” The handsome stranger—Ren, my mind provided, which was the most it had done since we’d met this sexy man—wiped his hands on his jeans, then pulled out his phone from his pants pocket.
“You looked like you were in a rush. If you put your number in my phone, I’d love to make it up to you later today.
Or tomorrow. Whenever you’re free.” He shoved the phone into my trembling hands, and I swallowed again, thirstier than ever, but it wasn’t the smoothie I needed to end my dehydration.
I hadn’t had dick in seven months and I was only a man.
“I hope you don’t mind texting. I don’t do social media unless it’s for work. ”
“No, that’s fine. But we could . . . get a drink now?” I offered after I’d created a new contact with my name and number, then passed back his phone.
He flashed his white teeth, the type of smile that made my knees weak. The door to Fitness Yums slammed open and Micki shot out with another smoothie clutched in her hand and napkins in the other. She shoved everything toward me.
“I saw what happened. Here, KC. Don’t be any later for Weeman’s class. You know what he’s like!”
All at once, reality hit me harder than a four-hundred-pound defensive tackle. “Fuck! Shit!”
I’d completely forgotten I was running behind, but I also didn’t want to leave. Ren’s gaze was magnetic, keeping my feet glued to the sidewalk, and it took every ounce of my willpower to move.
“I have to go.” I flinched. “I’m late. College class.” I laughed awkwardly. “Um, but I’d like to meet up. Text me?”
Micki made an amused sound, but I ignored her and the way my face flushed hotter. Sue me. I was calm and collected on the field, but when it came to hot guys? I was a lost cause. The one high school boyfriend I’d had left me brokenhearted, and I was over the one-nighters.
Was it so terrible to want a real relationship?
“Definitely. I’ll make it up to you. Buy you another drink.
” Ren stepped to the side, out of my way, and I bullied my legs into moving.
I gave Micki a smile of thanks, and one to Ren, before I charged through the parking lot with the grace of a bull while swiping at my shirt with the napkins.
I needed to get out of here quick because, if I didn’t, I’d definitely miss the whole class.
If I glanced over my shoulder at Ren once I got my Jeep on the road? Then, that was my business.
Relief swept through me to see he was still watching me, smile on his face, and he waved.
Ridiculously, I waved back before I rounded the corner.
Once I hit campus, I turned into the first parking lot that wasn’t full, tires screeching, and took the only space I could find—way at the back, of course.
I ran toward Weeman’s lecture hall. I thought I could sneak in through the back, but my sly attempt at entering failed when Weeman stopped talking to glower at me.
“You’re late, Mr. Beaumont.”
I winced. Damn it. “Sorry, sir.” I waved down at my drenched shirt, hoping to get some sympathy points. “I had an accident.”
Weeman sneered, his insectile eyes scolding. He shoved his glasses down to the tip of his nose and inspected me over them. “You might be a valuable football player, Mr. Beaumont, but don’t think I’ll go easy on you because of it. I expect my students to arrive on time.”
The entire class had turned to gawk at me, and heat savaged my cheeks again, this time for a less pleasant reason than when I was in front of Ren.
“Yes, sir. I apologize.”
He harrumphed and turned back to the screen projected on the wall from his laptop. “As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted.”
I held in a groan as I slid into the chair beside Ozzie, the center on our team and one of my friends. He grinned and slapped me on the back, brown eyes a little wider than usual.
“You’re never late, especially not to Weeman’s class.” I liked Ozzie. He was a laid-back dude, despite being in a frat. I hated the Greek sphere on campus because it was all a popularity contest.
He raised dark eyebrows and ran a hand through his short brown hair, fluffing it up. He nudged me with his elbow, amusement filling his eyes. His five-o’clock shadow always looked great. Lucky bastard. My jaw sweater was red fuzz if I let it grow in. “You good, man?”
I smiled. “Yeah, fine.”
I opened my laptop, but everything Weeman said went in one ear and out the other.
All my focus was centered on Ren. How could anyone be so fucking hot?
I didn’t think it was possible. Clearly, I was wrong.
I grinned. Fuck. If anyone could get me out of my sex drought, it was him.
All he had to do was smile again, and I’d bend over and say, “Yes please, sir. Hole for your pleasure right here.”
I snorted.
“Man, Weeman’s watching you. Concentrate.” Ozzie’s words dragged me out of my fantasies.
It wasn’t until near the end of class that my phone buzzed and I checked it.
Unknown Number
Hey. This is Ren. How does Wednesday morning sound? Name a time. Drinks on me.
I didn’t hesitate, Weeman’s glare be damned.
KC
I’d love to. I have a class at 11, though. Want to meet up at Fitness Yums at 9?
I added his name into my contacts and laughed at the nickname I’d given him. My phone buzzed again before I could switch off the screen.
Inked God Ren
See you then ;)
Butterflies—or maybe vampire bats—ravaged my stomach, making me shift excitedly in my seat. My dick twitched at the thought of having Ren’s mouth on mine.
I had a date.
A fucking date.
Was this a date?
It had to be. I was going to be optimistic about this. Nothing could bring me down.
I bit my bottom lip to stop myself from cheering and resisted the urge to text Pa to tell him.
Pa was too overprotective. But Barber? He was the type who’d listen and give me high-fives without spiraling into lectures about safe sex and reminding me about my shattered heart in a warning to take it slow.
I’d go to his shop this afternoon and gloat about my hot date. I needed to tell someone.