Chapter 18
Izzy
The volleyball sails over my head, way out-of-bounds. On the other side of the net, Victoria shrugs. “Whoops?”
“That was terrible,” I call as I chase after it.
“You weren’t paying attention.”
I spare Coach Alexis a glance as I scoop up the ball. Her gaze sweeps over the gym, clearly missing nothing. I adjust my headband,
hustling back to Victoria. We’re doing an easy serving drill in pairs before practice truly begins, but that’s no excuse for
sloppiness.
“Your face is all red,” Victoria says, easily catching the ball after I lob it over the net.
I stick my tongue out, even though my legs are aching. Nik and I have been switching off the swims with runs, and I have to admit that the runs are growing on me, even
if they leave me feeling like jelly.
“Haven’t you been getting plenty of cardio?” she says. She holds on to the pole holding up the net, opening her mouth in an
exaggerated orgasmic O as she tilts her head back. “Oh, give it to me harder, you big, sexy Russian—”
“Yoon,” Alexis calls. “A little more effort, please.”
I’m fighting to keep a straight face when she adds, “You too, Callahan. You’re running like you’ve got cinder blocks on your
feet.”
“Sorry, Coach,” we chorus. Victoria serves the ball to me. I catch it, set up for a serve, and smack it over the net to her. She has a weird look on her face, as if she just stepped on a slug.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“It’s obviously something.” I put my hands on my hips. “Is it Aaron?”
“No, we’re fine. Although it’s getting tricky to remember when you’re supposed to be with me.”
“Has he said anything?” I feel bad whenever I tell my brothers I’m hanging out with Victoria when I’m actually meeting up
with Nik, but until now, she hasn’t minded. It’s easier than making up details about something else. Fortunately for me, neither
of them seems all that suspicious about why I keep leaving the house so early and getting home so late. I’ve never been so
grateful that both of them are in relationships.
“No.” She shakes her head for emphasis before serving again. “It’s just... this seems kind of involved.”
“What? We’re just friends.”
“You’re sleeping with him.”
“We do normal friend things, too. We’re watching Gossip Girl together. He’s forcing me to listen to this Russian metal music, which, don’t tell him, isn’t actually that bad.”
“See, that’s weird.”
I dribble the volleyball a little harder than necessary. “I thought this is what you wanted for me.”
“It is. But it’s sounding kind of domestic.”
“And I can’t have that?”
“No. Ugh. This is coming out all wrong.” She ducks under the net to my side of the court. I look around nervously, but Alexis
is on the other end of the gym, lecturing a couple freshmen for sneaking away after the last road game. “I just don’t want
you to get hurt, Iz. This could get messy.”
“We’re friends and we’re having fun.” I cross my arms over my chest. I know I’m not the kind of girl who’d get a shot at more with someone like Nik, but I don’t need my best friend to tell me that. “And that’s all I want.”
Nik works his hands underneath my pleated plaid skirt, nibbling down my neck. “Tights? Really?”
“It is—ah—freezing out.” I put my arms around him, gasping as he lays me out on a table. My cheeks flush, as much from the
position as the look on his face when the skirt rides up. I can’t believe he’s looking at me like I’m the prize, instead of the other way around.
This classroom, a little nook of a room on the second floor of the building where I have philosophy class and he has a Russian
politics seminar, has become an unintentional meetup spot for us. Friends have routines, right? Ours just happen to involve
making out and then some in the twice-weekly overlap between our classes.
Totally normal stress relief. Victoria has no idea what she’s talking about.
“Allow me to warm you up, then.” He kisses me for real, one hand winding in my hair, the other dancing down my side.
“I’m presenting in class,” I warn. “I can’t be late.”
“Practice it now,” he says, skimming his lips along my jaw. “What’s the topic?”
“Um—Kant.” I dig my hands into his navy-blue cable-knit sweater. I couldn’t resist tugging him into the room as soon as I
saw it. The collar is unraveling in a way that feels rich boy intentional, and I’m not sure why that’s so hot to me, but I’m
not about to question it when he’s on the verge of ripping my tights. He better not mess them up too badly; it took ages to
pick out the right outfit for this presentation. I’m even channeling Blair Waldorf with a headband.
He does rip them. I give him an exasperated look, but he just strokes me through my panties, hooking his thumb underneath the elastic. “What about him?”
“His views on moral philosophy and how they differ from—Nik, fuck.” I arch my back as he rubs my clit through the thin fabric.
Why are his fingers so damn talented? “If I fail this assignment, I’m blaming you.”
He smiles, easy and self-assured... and then presses his face against my inner thigh. “I’m dying for a taste,” he murmurs.
“I want you lingering on my tongue when I walk into that fucking seminar.”
Someone jiggles the door handle. We freeze, looking over. He curses as he pulls away from me.
I sit up, hastily tugging down my skirt to hide the rip. “You locked it, right?”
“Yes.” He helps me off the table, smoothing my collar over my sweater. I comb his hair back; it’s falling into his eyes. “I’ve
never seen anyone even walk into this classroom. There are tarps over half the shit in here.”
“I should go to class anyway.” I grab my bag, checking to make sure my notes are inside. Usually, I’m good at oral presentations,
but this philosophy class has been kicking my butt. I’ll be lucky if I manage a B. I open the door carefully, breathing out
a sigh of relief when it’s obvious that no one is lingering outside. I step into the hallway, Nik on my heels.
“Hey, Izzy!” Cooper calls.
My heart drops straight through my body. I plant my hand against Nik’s chest and shove him into the classroom. I yank the
door shut, plastering a smile on my face, just before my brother reaches me.
“Hey,” I say brightly. If Nik left marks on my neck, I’ll kill him. “What are you doing here?”
“Taking Penny to lunch.” He adjusts his Yankees cap, peering at me. “What were you doing in there? You okay?”
“Just, uh, practicing for my philosophy presentation.” There’s a knock on the door. I thump my heel against it, keeping my
smile intact. “You know how stuffy these old buildings get. I’ve been boiling since they turned on the heat. Which feels earlier
than usual? It’s earlier than last year, right?”
“Right,” he says slowly. “Well, I’m sure you’ll crush it.” Instead of moving on, he leans against the door, snapping his fingers.
“Oh, hey. Seb switched his shift at the restaurant, so it’s just us for dinner later. I was thinking ramen and that show you
like? The one where they work on yachts?”
“Below Deck?”
“Yeah, that one. I love that show.”
“Sure. That sounds nice.”
“Cool.” He gives me a one-armed squeeze. “Good luck. Tell me about it later.”
As soon as he rounds the corner, I push the door open. My heart is slowly clawing its way back into my body, but now I’m all
jumpy. Hopefully my presentation won’t be first. And hopefully Cooper bought my lie about practicing.
“Seems like you handled that well,” Nik says from his perch on the end of the teacher’s desk. He swings his legs, grinning
like the Cheshire cat.
“That was Cooper, you know.” I cross my arms over my chest, scowling. “Why is this campus so small sometimes?”
He shrugs. “What’d you tell him?”
“You seem way too calm about this.”
“No harm done, right?” He slides off the desk, sauntering to me, and tugs on my arms until I uncross them. I melt into his
embrace—just for a moment—as he kisses me.
“You’re such a nuisance,” I grumble, twisting out of his grip.
He pinches me. “Brat.”
“Make me pay for it later,” I shoot back. “I’m going to be late.”
“Tonight?” he says. He keeps his voice light, a contrast to the dark promise in his eyes.
I give him a honey-sweet smile. “Unfortunately, I just made dinner plans with my brother.” I heft my bag over my shoulder,
striding to the door. As I open it, he says my name. I look over my shoulder. “Yeah?”
Something shifts in those golden-brown eyes. He’s quiet a beat too long.
“One, good luck on the presentation,” he finally says. “I know you can do it. And two... will you have lunch with me and
my mother?”