Chapter 2
Irolled my hamper down the hall and toward the elevator.
The thing was heavier than usual, filled to the brim, thanks to a research paper and labs that had forced me to wait two weeks instead of the one I liked to wait in between doing laundry, but it couldn’t be helped.
My courses were heavier this semester, and I was feeling it right through to my core.
Not only did I have classes but work study and tutoring.
I was just about to press the button that shut the doors when a masculine voice shouted to hold them open.
I winced. Usually, especially in the mood I was in, I would have pressed the shut button and looked up at them apologetically, but he’d said please.
Now, I know what you’re thinking, that that’s kind of mean.
But honestly, if you knew the kind of jerky, icky guys who not only lived in the same athletics building I did but I’d had to deal with, you would do the same.
Not that I was an athlete. God, no.
I could barely walk a straight line, much less was coordinated enough for anything more than that. Nope. There had been a glitch in the system my freshman year, when they roomed me with a soccer player, who was now my best friend, and the rest was, as they say, history.
I pressed the button next to it to keep the doors opened and averted my gaze from whomever was coming. I’d learned my lesson early on when it came to the guys who lived in the buildings or came and left from friends or lovers' rooms.
Rule Number One: Avoid making eye contact. Because being a division one school in almost every sport, the guys here thought everyone not only knew who they were but wanted a chance to be a notch on their belt. No thanks.
Rule Number Two: Don’t make small talk. Conversation with these guys was like catnip, and god help you if you even gave them a polite smile. Their egos inflated so big it was a mystery how the hell they were ever able to step out of the elevators in the first place.
Rule Number Three: Avoid making eye contact. Trust me, it was important enough to be repeated.
“Thanks,” a deep voice said. My eyes were on the ground as I nodded and caught a glimpse of very masculine feet in brown leather flip flops. Next to him was his own wheeled hamper.
“You’re welcome,” I muttered under my breath, slipping my phone out of the back pocket of my shorts and staring at the screen to make sure I wasn’t forced into small talk.
Anywhere else on campus, it was exactly what I’d do, too.
I was what Tere, my roommate, liked to call chatty.
She liked to tease there wasn’t a place I couldn’t go and make friends.
Well, other than our building. I’ve had one too many bad experiences with jocks who thought it was everyone else’s honor to come in contact with them, and heaven forbid you weren’t interested or drooling over the fact they even said hi to you.
My eyes dropped to his hamper. It was almost as full as mine, with bottles of detergent and fabric softener resting on top, while mine had been smashed inside the already overflowing one.
I could have sworn I felt the guy watching me. His gaze felt hot on my skin, but when I glanced at him, he was simply looking past me and up at the lights that told you what floor you were on. I took that opportunity to quickly observe him.
And wow. He was… really freaking good looking. Of course, he is. He was wearing a white tee shirt that broke probably all kinds of laws of physics as it stretched across his broad chest and muscular biceps. Biceps that distracted me from being able to focus on anything else.
Don’t get me wrong, I’d seen my share of hot guys. I had been living in a building full of football, basketball, and soccer players all destined to go live very public lives in their professional sports leagues for the past three years.
But he was different.
I’d never seen him before.
I wasn’t sure why, but something pulled my attention towards him.
He was handsome, a little rugged around the edges to be considered a pretty boy, but maybe that’s why I thought he was so good looking?
My mouth ran dry as I studied him in the span of a couple of seconds.
His eyes looked like they could be a light brown, maybe hazel tone, but I couldn’t be sure without looking at them head on.
White tee with worn-in light denim jeans paired with brown leather flips flops that showed off very masculine feet.
He looked like he belonged at a campus off the beach rather than one in the middle of the desert.
A muscle in his arm flexed, bulging against the hem of his sleeve, and just like that, my mouth watered and my complete attention was captivated.
When I breathed in, the scent of his body wash or cologne drifted into my nose, and I had to bite down on my lip to stave away a moan.
My hands itched to reach out and see if it was as hard as it looked. Wow. The guy’s biceps were probably the size of my head, and a vein popped out down the line of his forearms. He moved, my eyes drifted to his, and our gazes locked.
Light brown. The prettiest light brown eyes I’d ever seen in my life!
Quickly, I looked away, casting my gaze down at the top of my shoes like they were the most interesting thing in the world.
The elevator stopped at three other floors, slowly forcing both of us to scoot to the back as people filtered in.
A group of female swimmers, according to their hoodies, came in first. The five of them were laughing and talking, one of them waving at the guy and giving him a saucy look that made a knot form in my belly that felt a lot like jealousy.
What is that about? I don’t even know who he is!
Two floors later, three basketball players and two softball players I personally knew from the events Tere had dragged me to our freshman year entered. They were nice and said hi to me. The elevator was packed, yet somehow, it fit a football guy I’d seen before three stories from my destination.
And even though it took a lot for me not to look at the cute guy with the hamper, I could have sworn I felt his gaze on me. Wishful thinking, Plain Jane, a little voice in the back of my head teased. If I weren’t in a full elevator, surrounded by people, I would have literally laughed out loud.
I was delusional if I thought a hot guy like that would ever think twice about looking in my direction.
The elevator stopped and everyone slowly got out. When he stepped forward, something inside my chest ached at the knowledge I was probably not going to see him again even though we more than likely lived on the same floor.
But instead of walking out, he used his arm to keep the doors open.
Our eyes connected, and that thing inside of me, low in my belly, not only warmed up but fluttered to life.
Silently, he nodded, letting me go first. I pulled on my hamper, but the stupid thing, thanks to how heavy it was with clothes and the detergents, got stuck.
“Shit!” My face heated up, and when I tugged on it so hard that when it did give way, I almost lost my footing, flailing forward.
My eyes shut and my body braced, positive I was about to fall on the ground, when a band of muscles and heat clamped around me, steading me enough not to hit the floor face first.
“Are you okay?” The concern in his voice forced me to pry my eyes open and look up at the cute guy in the white tee.
“Yeah. umm––“ My face felt hot, and I could almost imagine the cherry-red tone my skin turned. “I’m sorry about that.” He gave me a kind smile before he kneeled, causing the breath in my lungs to whoosh out of me.
Suddenly, he was on a knee in front of me, and my dirty touch-starved body went on high alert and instantly overheated.
My head spun as an image of him dropping to his knees, pulling my thighs open, forcing my back to hit the wall before he put his face to my sex and breathed me in before his mouth attacked, taking care of the ache currently pulsing through me.
“What— what are you—“ I stammered, nerves getting the better of me.
“Here, it’s the wheel,” he said, tugging and pulling. “Something’s stuck in there.” He pulled at it, and it let go with a snap. His hand rose and showed me a hair tie.
A gross, dusty black hair tie. Oh god! Could this get any worse?
“It's what got your wheel stuck,” he explained, probably thinking I was some kind of ditz with how I stared at him.
“Oh,” I squeaked. “Well, umm, thank you.” I took the hair tie from his hand, and our fingers brushed with the lightest touch, but it was the heat of his calloused fingers that had me trembling. “Thank you, umm… That would have been bad,” I said, making more of a fool out of myself.
“Glad I could help.” His deep tone sounded genuine and sincere. I opened and shut my mouth, unsure of what to say next as we stared at one another. His hand for some reason still held my elbow.
Thankfully, or unfortunately, depending on which part of me you asked, the elevator beeped, snapping us out of the weird little bubble we’d found ourselves in.
“We should probably get going before it starts to beep again.”
“Right,” he mumbled, reaching and pulling my hamper out of the elevator for me, then lifting it over the grate at the door before it could get stuck again as if the thing weighed nothing at all. Our eyes connected as I stepped out, and I licked my lips. Wait, did he just stare at my mouth?
“Uh, thanks again,” I said, reaching for the hamper. Then, like the true-blue nerd I was, I rushed past him, pulling the heavy hamper behind me even though we were more than likely headed in the same direction.
Where was a huge black hole to help you disappear when you needed one?