King of Campus (14 page)

A small smile curls around the corners of her lips.  “Well, I guess that would explain it.”

Since Dylan and I have been roommates since freshman year, I met Lexie when they started hanging out last year.  She’s a cool chick.  I like her.  And she’s slept over enough times in the past for me to know that she has a major caffeine addiction problem.  If you ever need to get info out of her, hit her hard before that first cup in the morning.  She’s usually so groggy she’ll tell you just about anything you want to know.

Hence me finding out where Ivy was this afternoon.

I also took the opportunity to do a little more digging into the Finn McKenzie situation.  I was decidedly unhappy to learn that they were together for about six months before he dumped her ass while she was in France.  Clearly he’s looking to patch things up with her.

Am I bothered by this newly gleaned information?

Yeah… I think I actually am.  But mostly because I can’t stand that prick.  The guy is a major asshole.  And a huge player.

Which, yeah… I understand how maybe that could come off sounding a bit hypocritical, but still...  When I hook up with a girl, I’m completely clear about my intentions.  It’s a onetime deal.  I’m not in the market for a girlfriend.  I have way too much going on.  Which in no way means that I don’t enjoy getting laid with a fair amount of frequency.  It just means I don’t want the aggravation of having a girl whining at me about what I’m doing, where I’m going, and that I’m not spending enough quality time with her.  I don’t have time for that bullshit.  I have to stay focused on football and school.

But Finn… I’ve heard some not-so-good things about that dude.  He dates girls and then screws around on the side.  Now that, I have zero respect for.  If you want to nail anything that moves, anytime you want, then don’t have a girlfriend.  It’s as simple as that.

Not knowing what else to say, I shove my hands into my pockets.  “So, you ready to head out?”

Looking conflicted, she doesn’t move a muscle.  There’s just a hint of confusion written across her features as if she’s not quite sure she should take me up on my offer.  And the fact that I kissed her in the elevator last night probably isn’t helping matters either.

Neither one of us say a word as our gazes continue to hold.  My breath catches.  It’s so quiet I can almost hear the clock on the wall ticking.  Apparently deciding I’m an acceptable mode of transportation, she finally nods her head.  “Yeah, just let me grab my bag and we can go.”

Unable to help myself, my eyes slide appreciatively over her body as she turns away from me.  A few seconds later, she’s jogging over to the corner of the studio where her bag is lying against the wall.  She slips off her black ballet shoes before pulling on an oversized t-shirt and pair of leggings.  Sliding her feet into a pair of shoes, she then shoves the ballet shoes into her bag.

I seriously can’t believe how hot this girl is.  And watching her dance just now… yeah, that only kicks it up like a hundred more notches.  Unfortunately, I have a semi-aroused situation going on in my jeans.  God forbid I actually stiffen all the way up while we’re walking out of here.  Somehow I doubt Ivy would be flattered by my lust.  She’d probably refuse to ride back to the apartment with me.

So I try focusing on things that are in no way related to Ivy… or dancing…. or long caramel colored hair… or skintight leotards. 

Damn it.

Instead I focus on the season opener we played yesterday.  I think about the arms and chest workout I need to run through tonight.  I think about the time consuming business ethics project Ivy and I need to start working on.

Hmmm.

That only has me thinking about spending more time with Ivy.

Which has me thinking about her long lean body.

And those freaking splits she did midair.

Fuck… I bet she’s limber as hell.

Yep, now I really need to shift my junk around.  This isn’t good at all.

As we’re walking out, the woman who greeted me when I first came into the studio looks like she’s getting ready to close up for the day.

“Bye, Donna, I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

“Bye, honey.”  Donna’s eyes shift to me before giving me a saucy little wink.  “And it was certainly nice meeting you, Roan.  Good luck with the rest of your season.”  Her eyes swing speculatively between us.

I give her a wave in acknowledgement.  “Thanks, nice to meet you, too.”

And then we’re pushing through the front door into the bright sunshine.  Even though I picked her up so we could get right to work, that idea doesn’t necessarily appeal to me at the moment.  Noticing the smoothie shop right across the street, I point towards it.  “You want a smoothie or something?  You must be hungry after all that.”

I sure as hell know how I feel after working out.  Fucking famished.

She pauses, her gaze sliding to the vibrant yellow and orange shop across the street before arrowing right back to mine.  Just when I think she’ll agree, she shakes her head instead.

But I know she wants one.  As soon as I mentioned the word
smoothie
, her green eyes lit up with interest.  “Are you sure?”  I cajole, “Because I could seriously go for a pomegranate and berry one.”  Now that I’m actually saying the words out loud, I realize just how true they are.  I really
could
go for a smoothie right about now.  It would be the perfect pick me up before heading to the library for a few hours.

Looking uncertain, her eyes slowly shift back to mine again.  “Really?”

One side of my mouth twitches up.  Instead of replying, I simply grab her fingers before tugging her across the street towards the brightly colored shop.  As we make our way to the counter, I ask, “So what kind are you in the mood for?”

Her gaze catches mine before quickly skittering away.  She does that a lot.  “Same as you.”

My lips curve up even further and when it’s our turn, I order for both of us.  The guy behind the counter does a double take before a massive grin overtakes his face.  “No problem, King!”

With raised brows, Ivy’s eyes slide to mine as the guy calls out our order to someone else who will apparently make our drinks.  Before I can even try to engage her in any kind of conversation, the guy is back.

Shaking his head, he leans across the counter as if settling in for a nice long discussion.  “That was one hell of a game yesterday.”  He quickly glances over his shoulder before inching closer to me.  “I’ve got to watch my language around here.  The manager would write me up if he heard that.”

Even though I nod like I’m completely fascinated by what he’s saying, I’m really wishing this guy would just go away.  Instead, he continues as if he’s totally oblivious to the fact that I might be trying to spend some time with the girl standing right next to me.  Not once does he glance in Ivy’s direction.  He probably doesn’t even know she’s there.

“We all went crazy when you caught that fifteen yard pass and then made it through like five guys before scoring that touchdown!  It was the most amazing play I’ve ever seen in my life!”  Grinning like a lunatic, he shakes his head again.  “Only you, King!  Only you could do something like that.”

I smile tightly as he continues yammering on about one of the upcoming games.  Ivy is watching the whole exchange with a curious stare as if we’re primates at the zoo that she’s somehow trying to wrap her mind around.  I don’t like it.  I don’t want her watching me like I’m part of some damn circus act.

I get that enough as it is.

It suddenly occurs to me that I actually like that Ivy isn’t caught up in all the football hype and BS.  In the few conversational exchanges we’ve had thus far, not once has she brought up football or the NFL. It’s like she’s totally oblivious to all of it. 

Thankfully Chad, the dude who took our order and has pretty much yapped my ear off for the last five minutes, hands us our smoothies.  I know his name is Chad because he told me like three times.  The girl who actually made our smoothies had to clear her throat twice before finally tapping him on the shoulder to get his attention because he wouldn’t stop talking.

Thanking him, I hand Ivy hers before turning away from the front counter.

“Hey, King?”

I almost grit my teeth as Chad calls out my name with a hopeful note tinging his voice.  But I don’t.  That’s not the way to handle fans and I know it.  These people enjoy watching me play and they spend their hard earned money at the stadium.  I’m appreciative of that fact.  Instead I keep the relaxed look plastered across my face.  “What’s up?”

“Um… would you mind signing this piece of paper for my little brother?”  His face reddens.  “He’s a
huge
fan.  And I just know you’re gonna go pro this year.”

“Of course.”  I walk back to the counter before taking the pen he’s holding out to me.  “What’s his name,” I ask as I get ready to write my usual shtick.

“Oh… um, er, Chad.”

Glancing up, I meet his eyes.  His face looks as if it’s going to burst into flames any moment.  Zits and all.  “No problem.”  Then I get busy writing so we can get the hell out of here.

Finished, I hand him the pen before saying goodbye.  Glancing around the small shop, I notice a few other people now watching me.  Placing my hand on the small of Ivy’s back, I maneuver her out of the shop.  Once the door closes behind us, I inhale a deep breath of fresh air and continue walking towards my truck which is parked in the lot next to the dance studio.

Ivy doesn’t say a word.  She just continues sipping away on her smoothie.  I can’t imagine what she’s thinking.   

When we’re close enough, I click the automatic locks and open the door for her.  She shoots me a surprised look before murmuring a quick thanks.  Then I’m hustling around the front and sliding in besides her.

Is it completely weird that I like having her next to me in my truck?

You know what’s even weirder than that?

I’ve never driven a girl anywhere in this SUV.

When I said I was only into hook ups, I wasn’t kidding.  And I don’t ever make the mistake of bringing them back to my place either.  Because I did that once and it took a hell of a long time to convince her that it was time to leave when we were finished knocking boots.

I huff out a relieved breath that we’re finally alone in my truck and away from Chad and all the other curious onlookers.  Sometimes it really does feel like I’m a monkey at the zoo.

My eyes slide to Ivy only to find hers already settled on me as if she’s silently assessing me.  She takes another long pull from her straw as she continues watching me.  My eyes slip from hers to those ruby red lips sucking on the straw.  My junk stirs again wondering what it would feel like to have her suck me with such single minded determination.  Yeah… now probably isn’t the best time to be fantasizing about a blow job.

I’ll just save that for another time.

My eyes slice back up to hers as she says, “So… you play football, huh?”

I can’t help the surprised chuckle that escapes from my lips.  As I laugh, a small smile curves her beautiful mouth upwards.  “Yeah, a little bit, but I’m not very good.”

The smile grows, transforming her face until she’s probably the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever laid eyes on.  And just like in the dance studio, when I’d been watching her soar across the room, the breath catches at the back of my throat.  It’s such an odd and unexpected feeling.

“I kind of inferred that from the convo in the smoothie shop.  It must suck riding the bench.”

I compress my lips together so I’ll stop smiling.  But it’s not working.  Clearing my throat, I finally say, “Yeah, it does.  I’m really more of a glorified water boy than anything else.”

“Well, just keep working hard, I’m sure you’ll improve.  With any luck, you could be Barnett’s very own
Rudy
.”

I almost start choking.  It takes a moment before I’m able to say, “That’s some solid advice.  Thanks.” 
Rudy
… I freaking love that movie.  I mean, who doesn’t?  I eye her with just a little bit more appreciation for being able to work that cinematic gem into our conversation.  And trust me, I’ve been seriously appreciating her ever since I first laid eyes on her this afternoon.

With the tension completely broken between us, I pick up my smoothie before taking a hearty pull from the straw.  Even though Ivy and I have spoken a few times, it never occurred to me that she might have a sense of humor.  She’s usually glaring way too much to let it show.

With curiosity filling her eyes, she finally asks, “Does that kind of thing happen often?”

She’s kidding right?

I shrug my shoulders.  Over the years, I’ve grown used to the attention.  Normally it doesn’t bother me at all.  But then again, I’ve never had a girl at my side and our conversation totally hijacked either.  This is actually the first time I’ve ever felt irritated that someone wanted to talk football with me.

“Often enough.”

She looks thoughtful.  “And you don’t mind all the attention?”

Well, I never have before today…

“Not really.  It’s just part of being a high profile athlete, I guess.”  It’s always been like that.  Even back in high school, I was getting noticed for my football playing abilities.