Chapter 2
ZEB
Midterm? Chapters?
I was listening to every word out of her perfect mouth, but I wasn’t hearing her words. All I heard was my brain and my dick both saying mine.
I’d showered and left practice with the guys, heading to the cafeteria to eat a few burgers and a plate of spaghetti, but I’d had to duck out early to make it to the library in time for my required tutoring session.
I was pleasantly surprised that my genetics tutor wasn’t Cameron, a guy, but Cammie, a gorgeous girl.
She’d been right when she said everyone was looking at me.
They were. I didn’t ever come to the library.
I may have been inside once freshman year during the orientation tour, but not since.
Fuck, had I been missing out. I was Zeb Wilder, the university’s quarterback.
I led the team the past two years–yup, even as a freshman–to winning our bowl games and was working toward the same this year, too.
I had the arm and the charm as my teammates liked to say.
Except there hadn’t been a girl on campus in the two years I’d been here who I’d wanted to charm like I did Cammie.
Why? Because no one seemed to fucking see what I did when I went to the table listed on my tutor sheet I’d gotten in my email sent from my coach.
While I wasn’t doing all that great in my genetics class, I hadn’t wanted a tutor.
Coach insisted. He wanted me to stay focused, stay eligible to play.
A solid midterm grade would ensure that.
Boy, had he fucked up.
Because Cameron was fucking gorgeous and all I wanted to do was to get her to smile. Get her to blush. Get her to kiss me. Get her to scream my fucking name as I made her come.
The best thing of all? She had no idea who I was.
She was stumped about people staring at me.
She didn’t know it, but it happened wherever I went.
I got fist bumps, bro hugs, and ladies saying hi and batting their fake eyelashes at me.
The first semester, it had been cool, especially being the youngest of nine in my family.
I got attention here at college. People saw me as the guy who was winning games, not the youngest Wilder brother.
Not the little kid. Here on campus, I was the man.
Then it got old. Real old, with people thinking because I was the face of the football team, the guy who’d singlehandedly brought wins and bowl trophies back to Montana, that they deserved a piece of me.
Cammie didn’t seem to care that I played football. I didn’t even think she knew I did even though I was wearing my football hoodie.
She was settled in one of the uncomfortable wood chairs with books and papers piled around her. Her laptop was open, but the screen was dark. She seemed dwarfed behind it all, making it very clear that she was small. Breakable.
Her thick glasses didn’t hide her bright blue eyes, round face, pert nose, and narrow but full fuck-me lips.
She didn’t have on a lick of makeup and her hair was piled on her head in a way that indicated she may have slept with it like that.
It was long, wild, and I had to wonder how far it fell down over her shoulders.
Would it brush her nipples–nipples that were hard little points against her white shirt?
Her gray cardigan was thick and soft, perfect for this cold weather we were having, but it looked like something my size. That only made my dick go hard thinking about her wearing my clothes, and only my clothes.
And the pencil she’d lost in her hair? Cute as fuck.
I was fucked. F.U.C.K.E.D. I didn’t give a shit about genetics or football or anything but learning more about her. I wanted to study Cammie.
But I’d learned that nothing drove a woman away more than a psycho and while I wasn’t one, I didn’t want her to think it. That I was obsessed from one look.
When she asked me if I had my genetics textbook, the last thing I wanted to do was study, but that meant being with her. I had the next… eighty-five minutes to figure out a way to see her again outside of tutoring.
I pulled the heavy textbook from my backpack and set it on the table between us. “Yeah, midterm’s tomorrow. It covers the first eight chapters. I’m good except for genomes, specifically whole-genome sequencing.”
“What chapter is that?”
“Six.”
“Let’s jump there.”
She grabbed my book and flipped through it until she got to the section that was really fucking tough.
“What’s your major?” she asked.
“Ag.”
Her eyes widened.
I tipped my head a little. “You pegged me as a business major or maybe kinesiology?”
She smiled and a blush stained her cheeks. “Maybe. How come ag?”
“My family has a ranch. A few hours east of here. I want to help run it so Agricultural Studies was the best fit. I’m focusing on Animal Science and Agricultural Economics.”
She smiled and I felt it in my gut more than a sack in a game. “That’s really great.”
I was used to serious praise when it came to football. Maybe it was well deserved, because I was good at it, but it always felt… fake or someone buttering me up. Her little compliment meant a lot because I knew it was real and had zero to do with the sport.
“What about you?”
“Elementary education.”
I knew nothing about her, but teaching seemed to suit her.
I stared.
She stared back.
Felt the air hum, warm and comforting, between us. I liked what I saw and was turned on by every cute inch of Cammie, but there was something more here. Something like I’d found a piece of myself here in the library that I hadn’t known had been missing.
“Hey, Zeb,” another girl said as she walked by, this time being bold enough to swipe her fingers over my shoulder as if we knew each other.
I glanced up. Sleek black hair. Tight leggings and cropped hoodie that showcased her figure. I recognized her from parties. She may have hooked up with one of my teammates, or maybe even several of them based on locker room talk, but I had never said more than hi to her.
In the second of distraction, Cammie grabbed a spiral notebook and flipped to a blank page. Whatever bubble that had been formed around us, even for a short time, had been popped.
“I don’t know her,” I admitted after she was long gone.
Cammie shrugged, grabbed the pencil that had been tucked behind her ear. “Okay.” She flicked her blue gaze up to mine. “Genomes. Let’s break it down.”
So for the rest of the tutor time, that’s what we did. She helped me figure out the section I was struggling with to up the chances of getting a solid grade on the midterm to make coach happy.
We began to pack up. At least I did. I stuffed the textbook and new notes into my backpack. “You’re not leaving?” I asked.
She waved her hand at the books. “Got my own studying to do now.”
I arched a brow. “Now?”
She shrugged. “I have an exam and stuff due tomorrow, too.”
Tomorrow was the last day of midterms. Besides the game on Saturday, we were off for fall break and I could sleep in all I wanted.
“You live in the dorms?” I asked.
She cocked her head. “Yeah. In Van Hoff. Why?”
Van Hoff was on the far side of campus.
“How are you getting back there later?”
“Walking.”
I didn’t need to glance out the window to know it was already dark.
“I’m walking you.”
Behind her glasses, her eyes were confused. “Now?”
“Now, later, you’re not walking by yourself.”
“I do it all the time,” she countered.
My jaw clenched thinking of a little peanut like her being out at night all alone. She was easy pickings.
“Not any longer,” I said, my voice low and even. “You want me to sit with you until you’re done?”
Her mouth dropped open. “You’d do that?”
I nodded.
She blinked once, then again. “I guess I’ll study in my room then so you don’t have to wait.”
I watched her pack her things and when she picked up her backpack to sling it over her shoulder, I put it over mine.
On our way out, I looked her over.
She had to be a little over five feet, maybe a hundred pounds soaking wet. Without the table between us, I got to see her legs. She had on black leggings, but her t-shirt and sweater covered all the good parts, like her toned thighs and ass.
“Give me your number so if I have to cancel a tutor session I can reach you,” I said, holding out my hand. I’d only wanted to do one session with Cameron, but I was gonna have all the tutor sessions with Cammie. Hell, I was gonna ace genetics.
She blinked like I was speaking a foreign language, then she pulled her phone from a side pocket in her leggings.
She wasn’t fawning all over me like others did on campus–guys and girls–which was fine with me, which meant if anyone was gonna be skittish around me, it’d be her.
I didn’t want to come on too strong and tell her she was the woman I was gonna marry.
I had to start with her phone number and I had to have a good reason that wouldn’t spook her.
She handed it to me, and I added my number.
“Yo, Wilder! Go get ‘em Saturday!” Some guy came over, slapped me on the shoulder as I was handing Cammie her cell back, then exited the building.
I realized then that I liked that her body was hidden from other guys. He hadn’t even noticed her. Me taking my time to unwrap her would be like an early holiday present.
“Where’s your coat?” I asked, as we stepped outside. The air was cold with a sharp bite to it indicating it might snow.
Cammie crossed her arms over her chest, as if I reminded her she should be freezing.
“I’ve been here since two,” she explained. “It was warmer then.”
I tugged her out of the way as I set our bags down, then shrugged out of my sweatshirt.
“Here.”
I bunched up the sides and pushed it down over her head.
“What are you doing?” she called from beneath the thick cotton.
“Keeping you warm. Arms out.”
She huffed, or I thought she did with my hood flopped down and obeyed.
When I got it over her, then pushed the hood back, I knew.
Cammie was mine.
The hoodie fell to her knees and was maybe fourteen sizes too big. But she looked fucking adorable and well, mine.
She didn’t know it, but my name was across her back, which meant I claimed her for the entire campus to see.