Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
The Cove - Grace
Iwait anxiously on a corner of the deck as I watch Wyatt pull Rob aside, drawing my lower lip between my teeth, my stomach swirling. I don’t want Wyatt to get into any kind of trouble on my behalf.
But as I watch them, Rob begins to look as if he’s about to puke up his beer.
I don’t know what Wyatt is saying to him, but the lacrosse captain looks terrified by his words.
Then Rob leaves, but Wyatt stands in place, as if he’s waiting.
Rob eventually returns with some more frat bros, and apparently Wyatt is giving them the same lecture, because they also look scared.
Then Wyatt reaches over, claps Rob on the back—causing Rob’s beer to slosh out of his plastic cup—and makes his way back toward me.
For a moment, all I can do is stare at him. Which is what I’ve been trying to do discreetly since he greeted me on the front porch of the frat.
I gulp as he comes closer. Wyatt is completely gorgeous.
His shoulders and biceps are powerful and sculpted.
His abdominals are a six-pack, and his chest is broad and muscular.
I see a fine trail of brown hair that appears below his navel and disappears into the waistband of his swim trunks, and I find myself suddenly wanting a beer to cool off.
And he can dance, too. When we were dancing together, he was fluid in his movements and in tune to the music. I found myself lost in the moment. Suddenly all this crap didn’t matter. Not Rob. Not the bet. Not the fact that I was actually at the stupid frat house.
All that mattered was the way Wyatt looked at me as if I were the only girl at the party. The only one he wanted to look at.
I push those thoughts away as he comes back up to me. To my surprise, he slips his hand around my waist, and I can feel his warm hand through the fabric of the rash guard.
A thrill rushes through me from the sensation. I know Wyatt is playing a part, and I obviously need to remind my body—and my brain—that I’m only playing a part, too.
“Come with me for a sec,” he says, guiding me into the house.
Then he takes my hand, his fingers lacing through mine.
He leads me back out front again, where people are streaming in and out of the house.
He pauses on the porch and looks around, then leads me down to the far end, away from everyone else, and leans me against the railing, shifting both his hands to my hips, causing my pulse to quicken.
The music is still pounding from the backyard, and the sounds of shouts and laughter carry across the lawn.
But in this moment? I’m only aware of Wyatt.
“I’m holding you to make it look like we’re really hitting it off,” he explains in a low voice that only I can hear.
Right. Of course.
I nod. “I know.”
He flashes me a smile. “I told Rob I hoped you and I were going to be a thing very soon. And that I would annihilate him if he came within breathing distance of you. Then I repeated the message to the other spares in the bet.”
A burst of laughter escapes my lips, and Wyatt’s grin causes the dimple in his left cheek to come out. “You did not!”
“Oh, I did,” he says, his thumbs tracing over my hip bones.
“Rob’s a fucking chickenshit. I told him he was not to go near you.
Talk about you. Slander you. Or I’d tell you to get a lawyer and I’d report him.
I also warned him against pulling any of this shit on other girls.
Oh, and that I would end him if he even thought about getting out of line.
And repeated that message to my other brothers. ”
“Wyatt!” I gasp. “You didn’t!”
His eyes sparkle with a mischievous light, and I know he did exactly that.
I’m beaming as I look up at him. “You’re my hero.”
Now Wyatt looks sheepish. And it’s really cute.
“Nah, just doing the right thing,” he says.
“I’m confident he’ll behave. I scared the ever-living shit out of him.
Messing with a brother’s girlfriend is a no.
When we break up in a month, I’ll remind him I’ll still end him if he even thinks about pulling this shit again. Then after that I’ll drop the house.”
Drop the house. I still can’t believe Wyatt is going to do that for me. For the women on this campus. It speaks volumes to the kind of man he is.
And he’s the kind of man I not only respect, but like.
“I still can’t thank you enough,” I say, feeling so grateful for this good guy standing in front of me.
“Just help me get through history and we’ll be more than even,” Wyatt says with a crooked smile.
“Deal.”
“Do you want to go back to the party?” he asks, inclining his head toward the house. “We can shoot pool or just hang out if you’re tired of dancing.”
I glance at the frat house, then back at Wyatt. “Would it ruin your night if I wanted to do something else?” I ask, biting my lip.
“No, of course not. What do you have in mind?”
Nerves grab a hold of me. Do I dare say what I’m thinking?
Will Wyatt think I’m crazy? He’s a hockey player.
He probably lives at parties, and if he weren’t busy being my fake future boyfriend tonight, he’d probably be at another party with his teammates.
A bar. Or hooking up with one of the beautiful girls from my sorority house.
But I have a chance here, a chance that didn’t seem real until tonight. As I feel his hands on my waist, his thumbs dragging across my hip bones, and see the way his brown eyes are locked on mine, I realize I have a month to have him as … mine.
Okay, not in the physical sense, of course, unless we’re acting like we are now, but I could do some things I’ve always dreamed of doing if I had a boyfriend.
These were all thoughts I pushed aside due to my schedule, but as long as I’m making time to teach that shithead Rob a lesson, I might as well make the most of it, right?
“We need to do a little planning for the next thirty days,” I say, the words tumbling out. “Do you think we could go somewhere quiet and maybe hang out? Talk? Get to know some basic things about each other?”
Wyatt stares down at me. I swallow nervously as I stare up at him.
“Sure. Where did you have in mind? Did you want to grab a coffee or something?”
“No, I have something else in mind. Would you want to go to the cove?” I ask. The cove is a small beach not far from campus, nestled between gorgeous sandstone cliffs. “I love it there.”
“Because it’s water?” Wyatt asks, quirking a brow.
“Probably. I love sitting on the rocks and hearing the ocean. It’s relaxing.”
“I’m game.”
I shiver. “Would you mind if I ran back to the house? I need to grab a sweatshirt.”
“I’ve got a hoodie in my Jeep if you want to borrow it,” Wyatt says, ushering me down the steps and toward the sidewalk.
“Aren’t you going to be cold if I wear your hoodie?” I ask, studying his bare chest again. His muscles are so insane. So many cuts and ridges creating a perfect athletic body.
“Nah. I have a T-shirt in my bag I can pull on. Come on.”
Wyatt’s fingers are still laced through mine, and I stop dead in my tracks.
“Gracie?” he asks.
Gracie. He’s calling me Gracie again.
Okay, so other guys call me that. Like stupid Reed. But it sounds completely different in Wyatt’s deliciously raspy voice.
I tuck that moment away, like a happy memento I can pull out and examine later from this night.
“I need to text my friends,” I say, retrieving my phone from my pocket. “I’m going to tell them that we hit it off and are going to hang out.”
“Good idea,” Wyatt says.
I stare up at him. “And your wingmen will know to stay with them?”
“I’ll text Chase and let him know he has to keep an eye on them for the rest of the night. From the way he was looking at Maddie, he won’t mind.”
I groan while I text the girls. “He’ll be disappointed. She’s in a very committed situationship. Sadly, it’s one-sided.”
We both finish up texting and resume walking. I feel Wyatt’s knuckles brush against mine again, then his fingers tug on mine, sliding them together and interlocking our hands.
“If we’re going to do this, I’m all in on selling it,” he says, smiling down at me.
“So you’ve been a hand-holder with previous girlfriends?”
Wyatt gets a thoughtful look on his face. “Well, no, but that’s because I’ve never had a girlfriend.”
“What? How is that possible?” I cry.
Now Wyatt looks sheepish. He takes his free hand and rakes it through his thick dark hair. I get distracted for a moment. God, he has the most beautiful hair. I could spend hours staring at it, now that I’ve actually seen it without the baseball hat.
“I told you I don’t have time for dating,” he says, stopping in front of a black Jeep Grand Cherokee down the block.
“Well, yes, but you’ve never had a girlfriend?”
“I’ve had hookups.”
Oh. Noted.
“But if I had a girlfriend,” Wyatt continues, “I’d hold her hand.” Then he gives my hand a playful squeeze and leads me to the passenger-side door. “Hold on, let me get you my hoodie.”
I watch as Wyatt opens the back passenger door. He retrieves a gray hoodie and hands it to me. It says “Ocean Cove Hockey” on the front. “Thank you,” I say, tugging it over my head. It’s cozy and soft, and it smells like a mixture of Wyatt and laundry detergent.
He chuckles. “That’s a dress on you.”
I look down, and my shorts have disappeared underneath the sweatshirt. “Apparently so.”
Wyatt unzips a bag, and I watch as he rustles around in it. Soon he’s pulling something over his head, and I have to admit it’s a bit disappointing to watch his chiseled body disappear underneath a black T-shirt that has “Ocean Cove Golden Sharks” imprinted in gold across it.
He comes back and opens the passenger door for me. I thank him and slip inside, and he shuts it. Then he walks around to the driver’s side of the car and takes his seat behind the wheel. He turns on the engine, and pulsating club music blasts through the speakers, causing me to jump.