“You are not fucking shy, but nice try.”
“Fine, I’m not shy—but if you really must know, sometimes I wear pearls and cardigans to the library so I look serious and so people leave me alone.” She shoots me a pointed look. “Which, obviously, does. Not. Work.”
“Obviously. It’s not a very clever disguise and it makes you look like a kindergarten teacher—and not even a hot one.”
“Gee, thanks,” she sarcastically replies. “My point is I’m having a hard time keeping my grades up. I have to work really hard at it—nothing comes natural to me, especially chemistry, which I hate but have to pass.” She sighs. “My major is pre-pharmacy but I’m having second thoughts. One of my biggest regrets is declaring so soon. Sometimes I wish I was more adventurous, although I’m pretty content watching everyone else act like assholes at parties.”
“You don’t seem to shock very easily.” I’m referring to our meeting in the hallway, when the redhead was grabbing my cock.
“No, I don’t. My mom does porn, so…” She shrugs nonchalantly, dragging out her sentence. “You ain’t got nothin’ I haven’t ever seen in one of her movies.”
The bombshell has my eyes bugging out of my skull and I practically leap out of my chair. “What!”
A burst of laughter spills from her lips and before I know it, she’s sputtering. Falling out of her seat, waving her hands around, trying to calm herself. “Sit down, sit down, I’m kidding. Oh my god, you should see your face.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“So you keep saying.” The smirk returns. “It’s like looking in the mirror, isn’t it?”
Sebastian
She’s the last person I expect to see when I round the corner of the business school, but she’s exactly who I see when I bend to tie my shoe. I glance up when her familiar black patent leather ballet flats come into view.
I rise to my full height and straighten.
Jameson is wearing glasses today—black rimmed—and a long, smooth ponytail trails down her back. I can’t tell if she’s wearing a cardigan under her navy jacket, but I hypothesize that she is—and that it’s basic. Buttoned from the bottom all the way up to her throat. Probably in some boring color like gray.
Or dark blue.
“Hey Oz.” She greets me with her own onceover, checking me out from top to bottom. “You’re not following me around campus now, are you? Cause I’d hate to call security on you.”
“Yup. I’m only pretending to tie my shoe so I can look up your skirt.”
She’s wearing jeans and a smile. “Oz, you met Allison and Hayley at the party—this is our other roommate, Sydney.”
“Hey.” I greet them both with a huge grin because, well, Sydney is almost as good looking as Allison and Hayley. All three of Jameson’s roommates are the kind of sexy that hits you immediately, not the subtle, classy kind that sneaks up on you slowly, the way Jameson’s does.
The hot roommate’s mitten-covered hand shoots out. “Hi. Gosh, you’re so… I don’t know if you remember me, but we met at Welcome Week in August? I’m on the dance team?”
Shit, have I fucked her already? I got pretty wasted during Welcome Week at a frat’s afternoon pre-party and can’t remember shit about that weekend.
“You probably don’t remember me,” she prattles on. “You were working the information table for the athletic department. You’re a football player, right?”
“No.”
Not even close.
At Sydney’s crestfallen expression, James eases closer to elbow me in the ribcage. I give her a What did I say? look and shrug my wide shoulders because honestly, I’m not on the goddamn football team. What does she expect me to say?
“The dance team, huh?” I ask. “Yeah, yeah, that’s right. Now I remember. Good to meet you—again.” I shoot her a winning smile; I mean, why wouldn’t I? Sydney is hot. Flat chested beneath her Iowa Dance Team sweatshirt, but still pretty hot.
Jameson grabs her roommate by the arm.
“Anyway, good running into you, Oz.” She starts walking, attempting to haul Sydney away. “We’re late.”
“Where you headed?” I take a few steps forward, slinging my backpack over my shoulder. “Maybe we’re headed in the same direction.”
“Nope. We’re done on campus. A little late getting back to our apartment.”
“Late getting back to your apartment?”
Jameson clears her throat. “If you must know, our roommate Allison’s parents are coming to town, and we told her we’d help clean the place.”
“No library?”
“Not tonight.”
“Are you sure I can’t convince you to meet me in the back corner?” I give her a wicked grin and wiggle my brows.
Sydney’s mouth falls open.
Jameson, however, looks dismayed. “God, no. I don’t have time for that tonight—especially when you still owe me that money.”
“Why do you keep bringing that shit up?”
“Because you owe me money.”
“Technically I owe you money, but think of it this way: you’re not really out any actual cash. You just haven’t had a gain.”
“Technically you made a verbal commitment to pay me half of your earnings. I’m the one who earned it.”