Finding Me (2 page)

“Nice to see your face, too, Laura. I took this bed, but if you want to switch I don’t mind.”

“Nah.” Laura laughed as she shook her head. “That bed is too close to the window. The sun peeking in would wake me up. I’m a super light sleeper and need total darkness to sleep. Oh God, you don’t, like, snore or anything, do you?” Laura scrunched her face in horror as she flopped onto the bed.

I shook my head and chuckled. “Not that I know of. I’ll make sure the blinds are nice and tight so the sun doesn’t assault you too early in the morning. I didn’t know you played guitar. Music major?”

“Yeah, I mean at least I
think
. It’s all I’ve ever been interested in. My parents are hoping I’ll . . .” Laura held up her fingers in air quotes. “‘Outgrow’ it. So here I am. Any clue what you want your major to be?”

I nodded. “Probably finance, like my dad.”

Laura pursed her lips. “I guess liking numbers runs in families. My poor CPA father doesn’t get how it completely skipped his only daughter.”

I gave Laura a small smile. I was sure she didn’t want to hear the “my dad really isn’t my dad” story yet. My love of finance was something I had in common with him, not inherited from him as we didn’t have the same blood. I still loved overhearing him brag about my math grades and say “his daughter was just like him.” Lucas was the only real father I’d ever known, even though he never legally adopted me. No one ever talked about Marc, my biological father that I hadn’t seen since I was six years old. As far as our family was concerned, blood lines were inconsequential. I had a father who loved me, even if he wasn’t the one I was born with.

“I really don’t feel like unpacking right now.” Laura sprang from the bed and sauntered to our door. “I think I saw a Starbucks or some kind of coffee place on the way in. I would kill for an iced coffee. Feel like taking a walk?”

“Sure, I wanted to see the rest of the campus today. My parents stayed to help me unpack and some fresh air would be awesome.” I let out a deep breath as I followed Laura outside. I tried to block the nerves tingling in my stomach. Empowerment rushed over me like a wave. I could do this and it would be great. I said it to myself about twenty times on the car ride here and I hoped the more times I repeated it, the closer I’d get to actually believing it.

“Crap, I should have known.” Laura
tisked
as she perused the menu on the wall. “Fake Starbucks.
Bean Shooters?
Really? Let’s just hope the coffee doesn’t suck.”

“You two must be from the city,” a smooth baritone voice noted from behind us. “I’d take a coffee from Bean Shooters over the overpriced garbage at Starbucks any day.” I detected a slight Southern drawl. Even if it was my first day on campus, I wasn’t about to let anyone call me a city snob, no matter how much sexy timbre this guy had dripping off his voice.

I narrowed my eyes as I turned around. I was prepared to tell him in my thickest Queens accent to keep his city comments to himself when I lost the ability to speak. I never thought I’d see the day a guy with silky ash brown hair almost down to his shoulders and held back with a black bandana would make me want to drool. My eyes traveled down to his tight black sleeveless shirt stretched out by a wide muscular chest and stopped at strong chiseled arms. I rolled my eyes to cover up what I hoped wasn’t obvious ogling and looked away before I spoke.

“Whatever,” I sneered as my gaze darted to his face. Yep, he was gorgeous. His emerald eyes shone as his mouth twisted in a smirk.

He raised his hands in defeat. “I wasn’t insulting the city, especially not girls with sexy New York accents. Just saying you should open your mind, is all. I’m Owen. Welcome to Culver.” His smile grew wide and revealed the sexiest dimples I’d ever seen.

“Thanks,” I choked out. This was the first time a man was so good looking it paralyzed me on the spot. I was dumb to think I could reinvent myself here. No matter where I went, I was still Bella. Sort of pretty but uptight, only-kissed-one-boy-her-whole-life Bella, who was all jittery thumbs in front of an Adonis like this.

“And you are . . .” Owen raised an eyebrow. The dimples almost made me forget.

I took a deep breath and faked cool and collected the best I could. “Bella. This is my roommate Laura.” Laura gave Owen a side nod, and I chuckled at the double take she gave in his direction.

“Nice to meet you, ladies.” Owen gave us both a big smile and a wink.

“Here you go OT, just the way you like it.” The barista set the coffee on the counter as she gave Owen an obvious once over. He thanked her as he grabbed his coffee, not acknowledging the double meaning. Judging by his cocky grin, I bet a lot of girls at Culver knew how Owen ‘liked it.’

“Guess I’ll see you guys around. Nice to meet you.” Owen winked at me again before he made his way out the door.

“Holy hell,” Laura whispered. “He was . . .”

“Yes, he certainly was.” We both stared at the door as if we just witnessed something miraculous. That face and body were solid evidence of a divine higher power.

The barista snickered at us. “Ah, the OT spell. Happens to all of us.”

Laura’s brow furrowed. “Why do you call him OT?”

“Well those are his initials, Owen Thompson, and he’s the center for the hockey team. When he joined, the team really sucked. But then he started scoring goals at the last minute and forcing games into overtime. OT seemed to stick. Plus, he looks like the type of guy who’s
always
up for overtime.” Her gaze landed on the door. Poor girl practically had her tongue hanging out.

I’d planned—or at least hoped—to meet someone new here eventually. But I wanted to get my feet wet first. A gorgeous jock who left a trail of panting girls in his wake was definitely jumping into the deep end of the ocean without a life preserver.

“Okay, Laura. Focus. Coffee.” I smirked at Laura and nodded at the counter.

Laura raised her eyebrows at me. “I’m not the only one who needs a napkin for the drool. Isn’t this what college is about? Soaking up knowledge and appreciating a better class of eye candy?”

I shrugged. “I suppose.” An hour ago, I thought I was exactly where I was supposed to be. Now, I ached for real Starbucks and all the other comforts of home, even if I was forever known as the girl who got dumped. There was comfort in familiarity, no matter how miserable it was.

It was time to get uncomfortable, and it scared the crap out of me.

Bella

“GOOD AFTERNOON, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN.
Welcome to Managerial Accounting 3000 Part 1. I’m Professor Sherman, and before we get started, I like to start each class with a little joke. Part of my job this semester is to prove it’s a myth that all accountants are boring.”

My class responded with low groans and a chorus of sucked teeth. I couldn’t help but smile at this sweet pudgy old man recounting an episode of an old show called
Three’s Company
. I couldn’t speak for the rest of the students, but jokes and antics weren’t needed to keep me interested. Numbers were constant and reliable. As long as you knew the right formula, the end result never changed. It wasn’t subjective like creative subjects. I was probably the only student in class who felt warm and fuzzy anticipating all the numbers we’d get to crunch.

“Hey, City.” I registered a familiar drawl and turned around. Mr. OT himself was sitting right behind me. His hair was down today so his long mane fell over his eyes. I fought the inappropriate urge to run my fingers through it and brush it off his forehead. The ripples of muscle up and down his arms were still visible through his long sleeve gray shirt. My eyes darted lower to his worn jeans that would of course cling to all the right places when he stood. My stomach twisted as I tipped my chin at Owen without making eye contact.

“I’m surprised to see you here. I figured you were a freshman,” Owen whispered into my neck, making the little hairs stand at attention from the hot tickle of his breath.

“I am. I took college accounting courses in high school.” I scooted forward in my seat and brought my gaze back to the front of the room. The professor was laughing at his own joke and even though I didn’t hear it, I regarded him with a small smile. He was trying; putting himself out there. I envied his ‘gumption,’ as my grandma liked to say.

“Wow, smart
and
beautiful. You’re the total package, Bella.”
He remembered my name
? My insides fluttered when he said ‘beautiful,’ but I shook it off and reached into my bag for a pen.

I shrugged without turning around. “I don’t know about that. I just like numbers.” I opened my textbook and tried to look unaffected, but I’d been in the guy’s presence for a total of fifteen minutes and my palms were sweaty.
Jesus Christ, Bella—get a grip!
How many classes would it take before I stopped feeling Owen’s eyes on my back? So much for comfort in numbers this semester.

“Hey Bella, wait up!” Owen jogged after me as I left class.

I turned but didn’t stop walking. “What’s up?” Appearing aloof was harder than it seemed.
Stop staring at his mouth, and his eyes, and . . . ugh! Just look straight ahead.

Owen grabbed my elbow, causing an unwanted tingle down my arm. “Maybe we could study together sometime. I’m not a numbers guy, but I need this class for my marketing degree.”

“You’re lost after the first class?” I narrowed my eyes at him, trying my best to not confirm whether I was right about the fit of his jeans.

Owen gave me a blinding, mega-watt smile and chuckled. “Not yet, but it’s what usually happens. If you took college accounting classes while you were still in high school, you must be pretty good.” Owen pursed his lips at me. I nodded and laughed in spite of myself.

“I’m all right.” I shrugged at Owen and he grinned back. “If you need help, sure. We can study together.”

“Thanks! I can help you too, if you want. Show you around campus, give you the inside scoop on things.” He wiggled his eyebrows at me and I couldn’t help rolling my eyes.

“I already have a little inside scoop,
OT
, but thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.” I smirked at Owen. He groaned and put his hands over his eyes as we strode toward my next class. I guessed he was headed in the same direction.

“So you already think I’m some kind of meathead hockey player, huh?” Owen grimaced at me.

“No, I don’t think that at all. That’s pretty much all I know about you. A member of your fan club gave me only top line information.”

Owen threw his head back and laughed. “My fan club? How do you know? Did they try to recruit you? Tell them you know me, maybe they’ll make you an officer.”

I chuckled and shook my head. “I think every female on campus is probably automatically enrolled.” We got to the door of the liberal arts building and I gazed back at Owen while fidgeting with the strap of my bag. “What room is your class in? Mine is on the second floor.”

“My next class isn’t here, it’s back in the business school building.”

I gave Owen a sideways glance. “Why would you walk all the way over here if your next class was in the same building?” I squinted my eyes at Owen as he looked away with a sheepish shrug.

“I liked talking to you.” Owen shrugged and glanced at his watch. “I better get back. See you in class tomorrow. And hey, find out when the next fan club meeting is
—
if it’s under the same bridge or the location changed.” I giggled as Owen turned and made his way back across campus.