Zak
ZAK
Jaime Smith is perfection. From the very first time I laid eyes on her, I knew no one else could ever compare. Even as an eighteen-year-old, I was aware how ridiculous that thought was, attempting to convince myself it was just a crush. But it’s a crush that’s still going strong three years later.
Sipping my beer, I watch her dancing with Sasha and Abi, her head thrown back and a smile on her lips. With every sway of her curvy hips, her silver bandage dress shifts up her thighs, and I sip my drink as my throat runs dry.
Sol and Alex have teased me relentlessly over the years about my unrequited crush. But that’s just it. It’s not unrequited. I know she feels whatever this thing is between us. I can see it in the way her breath hitches whenever I’m too close—in the heated way her eyes meet mine from across the room.
What I don’t know is why she refuses to give us a shot. We’d be great together. The stuff of dreams. I’m sure of it. I might be an economics major, but my science has always been pretty strong, and Jaime Smith and I match on a molecular level.
Taking another sip of my beer, I let my attention linger on the way her long, sleek hair slides over her shoulders, her huge brown eyes shining at something Abi’s said, her perfect full lips parted in laughter. Her hair’s lighter than before the summer. I like it. Clutching the bottle tighter, a new wave of determination settles in my chest. Mine.
Forcing myself to turn away, I push off the wall and head back to the other side of the Den where I left the guys. Sol is nowhere to be seen, but Alex is leaning against the wall, looking like he’s on some sort of photo shoot. He always does. Shaking my head, I grab two beers from one of the shiny metal coolers on the scattered tables.
He doesn’t see me approaching, his expression far-off and glazed, so I stoop a little and shoulder check him. “Where’d you go?”
He looks up, his eyebrows raised. “What do you mean? You’re the one who went AWOL.”
I take his empty bottle and hand him the fresh one. “You zoned out. Completely different planet.”
“Just thinking.”
I frown at him and shake my head. “This is the first party of our last year of college. No thinking. Just drinking.”
Lifting my beer in a salute, I let out a holler and chug half of it while he laughs.
“Don’t you and Sol have lacrosse practice in the morning?”
I roll my eyes, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. Lacrosse season doesn’t start until February, but every year Coach Pearson likes to set up friendlies with the local colleges. He says it gives us an opportunity to see their strengths and weaknesses before the season starts.
“Don’t be such a fucking killjoy,” I say, finishing off my beer and placing it down on the table.
Alex holds his hands up in front of him. “Just saying. You might want to take it easy.”
I wrinkle my nose and shake my head. “When did you become so boring?”
“I’m not boring.” He scowls at me. “Get drunk out of your fucking skull if you want to. All I did was remind you that you’ve got practice.”
“Who’s got practice?”
I chuckle as Sol appears with three beers grasped in his hands. Alex’s face is a fucking picture.
“I’m joking,” Sol says, handing out the beers. “This is my last one.”
Alex folds his arms.
“Okay, fine. Maybe my penultimate one.”
Alex snorts. “Taking your new role as captain seriously, then?”
My eyebrows shoot up at his scathing tone. He’s not joking. Alex can be a dick sometimes, but we’re never usually on the receiving end of it. I glance at Sol, who’s staring at him with the same confusion I’m sure is mirrored on my own face. Perhaps it’s the pressure of hosting the opening party.
Ever since freshman year, everyone knew Alex would end up being president of the Wolves. He’s a natural leader. That doesn’t mean he’s finding it easy, I guess. When Sol gives a small shake of his head, I know he’s reached the same conclusion.
“I’m going to get Jaime tonight.” The words fall from my lips before I can think better of it, but they have the intended effect as Alex’s expression shifts.
“Seriously?” he asks. “She turned you down four times last year. Learn when to quit.”
His eyes narrow at something on the other side of the room, and I follow his gaze to find that Jaime and the others have stopped dancing and are making their way over to the bar.
“This year, it’s different,” I say, my lips curling into a small smile as Jaime pours them all shots. “I can feel it. Plus, if I get in with Jaime, I can put in a good word for you with Sasha.”
Alex laughs. “Why the fuck would I want her to put a word in with Sasha?”
“Because,” I say, leaning smugly against the bookshelf and shooting a look at Sol. “You haven’t stopped staring at her since she arrived.”
“Not true,” he mutters.
“So true.”
“Whatever.”
Sol snorts, drawing Alex’s glare, but he’s no longer paying attention, instead shrugging out of his suit jacket, and throwing it on a chair. The movement attracts the attention of a few girls, but Sol doesn’t notice. One of the many things I love about the guy. He’s an incredible sportsman, and academically clever as hell, but he’s fucking clueless.
Meanwhile, Alex is surveying the party like a shark, and I watch as his attention falls on a group of Bees.
“You going for Courtney?” I ask, watching as the pretty, blonde sophomore bats her eyelashes at him.
He glances at me before looking back at her. “Courtney?”
“The girl who’s so hot for you, she’s squirming in her seat,” I explain. “The one you’re eye fucking. Like, right now.”
“Oh?” He grins, wiggling his eyebrows. “ That Courtney.”
He pushes off the wall and I shake my head. When it comes to sex, Alex has issues for days. I’ve got nothing against a casual fuck, but he goes through women faster than I can keep track. Although, you could always just count the panties hanging from the line out his window.
“You okay?” Sol asks, nudging me with his elbow.
My eyebrows shoot up at the concern in his voice. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
He shakes his head, glancing over at where Alex has Courtney practically eating out of his hand. “I don’t know, man. There’s something off about you tonight.”
“Off?” I echo. “Thanks.”
“Fuck off.” He nudges me with his elbow. “Did you mean what you said about Jaime?”
My gaze meets hers across the room and I feel it in my bones. It’s now or never. This year is my last chance. “Yes. I did.”
Sol sighs. “I don’t get it, . You could have your pick of women. Why her?”
I press my lips together, watching as she looks away, talking with her friends. How do you begin to explain something you don’t understand yourself?
“Do you think that, maybe . . .” Sol trails off and I turn to him.
“What?”
He grimaces and shakes his head. “Nothing.”
Unease swims in my beer-filled stomach. “Don’t do that, man. Spill.”
Sol frowns, his blue eyes creasing before he exhales. “Do you think you might be so obsessed because she keeps saying no?”
I blink. “What?”
“I mean, if she’d said yes to you in freshman year, do you think you’d still be together?” He shifts from foot to foot as I stare at him. “Like, maybe it’s the chase you’re infatuated with.”
My jaw clenches, my grip tightening on my beer. “No.”
I never told either of them that Jaime and I kissed at the Thanksgiving party. At the time, it was because I was waiting until I got my second chance. But it never came, and my crush just didn’t fade. And now, it almost feels like it didn’t happen. Until I see her. Then the memory steals my breath all over again.
Sol pushes a hand through his Captain America hair, messing it up in the process. “You know I love you, . I just don’t want to see you hurt. What if this thing between you and Jaime is just something you’ve built up in your head?”
I swear my teeth begin to crack. He doesn’t understand. I’ve tried a couple of times to explain it, but he just looks at me with big blue eyes filled with pity. But he knows. He knows how serious I am about her, and to talk about her so dismissively . . .
I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve been pissed at my best friend, and until now, they’ve all been about lacrosse.
“I’m taking a lap,” I say. “I’ll catch you in a bit.”
Sol reaches for me, but I shrug him off, pushing through the crowd. I’m mad at him now, but it won’t last. Even after a few paces, I know he’s coming from a good place. He’s looking out for me. I just need a breather.
Moving through the crowd, almost everyone I pass says hey or offers a smile. It’s one of the things I like about Franklin West. It’s small. A community. Although, I know that’s not everyone’s jam.
I’m so lost in thought, I don’t realize where I’m headed until I find myself in the huge open kitchen, a few feet away from Jaime.
I freeze, allowing myself to drink her in. From her long legs to her incredible rack, lingering on the curves encased within her tight dress as she sways in time to the music. The urge to close the distance between us and slide my arms around her, is almost all consuming.
She looks up from where she’s finished pouring a shot and I swallow. “Hey.”
“Hey, yourself,” she says. “Want one?”
I open my mouth to say yes, then shake my head. “I have lacrosse in the morning, so I really shouldn’t.”
Offering a shrug, she picks hers up and knocks it back. I chuckle to myself and close the remaining distance between us, leaning against the counter.
“Having a good night, VP?” I ask.
She licks her lips and I tighten my grip on my drink. “It’s okay. Next week will be better.”
My grin widens. It’s the Bee’s turn to host their opening party next week at the Hive. “I’m sure it will if you’ve got anything to do with it.”
Her smile softens, her gaze dropping from mine, and it takes a lot of effort not to flex as I watch her unabashedly check me out.
“Excited for senior year?” she asks, propping a hand on her hip as she drags her eyes up to meet mine once more.
“It’s going to be tough,” I admit. “The reading list for my course is ridiculous.”
She hums, her gaze flitting to where the top three buttons of my shirt are unfastened. “You heading back to Chicago after graduation?”
My eyebrows shoot up. We’ve chatted several times over the years, but it’s always been surface stuff. How does she know I’m from Chicago? My chest swells at the knowledge she’s been paying as much attention to me as I have to her.
“I don’t know,” I say carefully. “I’m open to suggestions. I hear Florida’s nice.”
She rolls her eyes at the mention of her home state, and I smile. I know everything there is to know about Jaime Smith. Her family is hella famous in the business world. Mason Smith is old money, and huge in the import export trade. People would sell a kidney to get in with him. He’s like the Simon Cowell of business. If you get a ’yes’ from Mason Smith, you’re a guaranteed millionaire.
“So, we’re doing this again, this year?” Jaime asks.
I shrug. “Doing what?”
“The whole cat and mouse thing.” She gestures between us.
A deep laugh rumbles from me. “That’s a really crappy analogy because I’m doing the chasing, and you’re definitely not a mouse. If anything, I’m the mouse, presenting myself to you on a silver platter.”
Her brown eyes narrow. “Maybe you need to get off that platter before you find yourself skewered by a claw.”
I swear I try, but the idea of her clawing at me does nothing but send tingles down my spine, my dick thickening in my pants. I just know she’s a hellcat in the sack. She’s not afraid to ask for what she wants, and I’ve jerked off more times than I’d like to admit to the thought of her riding me into oblivion, her long nails piercing my chest. Fuck.
“You’re a masochist,” she says, dragging me from my thoughts.
I grin. “Only when it comes to you, Kitty Cat.”
She glowers at me, and I lean closer, reaching out and pulling a strand of her long hair between my fingers.
Her eyes widen a fraction, flitting to my mouth, but then she steps back, her hair falling from my fingertips. “This needs to stop, . It’s not fair.”
“What’s not fair?”.
“This,” she says, shaking her head as she takes another step back. “Pursuing me. We’re not going to happen. Why won’t you accept that?”
I press my lips together because I don’t know. Maybe it’s because she can never give me an answer—no real reason why we can’t happen. If she didn’t find me attractive, or thought I was a dick, I’d get it. But neither of those things are true. That kiss didn’t lie and the way she looks at me like I’m her last meal certainly doesn’t either.
“I’m sorry,” I say, even though it’s not true. “How about a fresh start for our last year?”
“Fresh start?” she echoes, her expression dubious.
I shrug. “Yeah. Let’s start over. Be friends. I promise not to cross any lines.”
Her eyes narrow. “Friends?”
“Yeah, friends.” I grin. “You know, people who talk and spend time together but don’t have sex? If you refuse to date me, then at least let me be your friend.”
Her lips press together, and my gaze almost drops to them, but I keep focused on her eyes. If this is the only way to get close to her, then fine.
“I have enough friends,” she says, although I can tell she’s faltering.
Before I can chicken out, I pull my phone from my pocket and hand it to her. “Put your number in, Kitty Cat, and I swear I won’t ask you out again. This mouse will take himself off the platter and find some cheese instead.”
Jaime is a smart cookie. I have no doubt she sees this for what it is and is trying to figure out a loophole. But she’s also not saying no.
When she reaches out and takes my phone, I mentally punch the air, trying to keep my expression neutral. The second she hands it back, I send her a text, because I wouldn’t put it past her to give me a fake number. Her phone buzzes in her purse and she sighs as she pulls it out and checks it.
“Hi, Bestie,” she reads. “Cute.”
I grin. “Speaking of which, I should get back to the guys. See you later, Kitty Cat.”
Her scathing expression makes me chuckle as I walk away. I’ve promised I won’t ask her out, but that doesn’t mean I’ve given up. Not by a long shot. I have Jaime Smith’s number. I’m just getting started.