My stomach cinches again, this time in fear he’s leaving.
“Um, not really. I haven’t read it or anything. I’m sure it’s really good, though.” I’m sure it’s really good, though? What am I, a literary psychic? God, I’m so lame. I don’t even know how to talk to a human, let alone one of the male species. And flirting? Forget it. I’m a failure at all things seductive. But right about now, I’m wishing I had even the slightest clue on how to keep this boy with the golden eyes from getting up and walking out of my life forever.
“It’s pretty good. But I’m an English major. I think most works of literature are pretty good.” He offers up a sly wink.
“English, huh? What are you going to do with that?”
“Teach.” He straightens as if proud of his scholastic-based future.
Owen shouts my name from the depths of the crowd, and I don’t need a dyslexic road map to let me know I’m about to embark on an odyssey of my own.
God—Owen ruins everything.
I bolt up and make a run for my bike, pulling it out of the sea of two-wheelers.
“Whoa! Where you headed?” The golden god pops right back by my side as if he teleported here, and I’m stunned for a moment. I’ve never had a boy follow me before, other than my stalker-like older brother.
“Anywhere but here,” I pant through a burgeoning smile.
In the distance, I spot Owen giving me a slight wave from the entrance to Hallowed Grounds before heading this way.
The golden god inadvertently steps between us—a lethal,lethalerror on his part—and briefly blocks my brother from my line of vision. “Hey, I didn’t get your name.”
Owen’s refrigerator-like frame comes up behind him, his shoulders expanding with rage. If there is one mission in my brother’s life, it’s to stop me from commingling with the opposite gender.
“Look, I gotta go. My stalker is drawing nigh, and I don’t feel like dealing with him at the moment.” There’s no point in detaining this Greek deity from his lit homework any longer.
“Hop on.” The golden god nods to my handlebars as he straddles the frame. “Is some idiot actually bothering you?”
My jaw nearly unhinges at the sight of him firmly seated on Bessie as if he belongs there. “Yes, and so are you at the moment. Look, I just want to get away from him, and the closer he gets, the harder it’s going to be for me to pedal my way to safety.”
“Safety?” He glances back into the crowd with a new lens, and the slight look of terror flits through him as if he were genuinely worried for me. “Point him out. I’ll set him straight for you.”
“No!” Although it is a rather swoon-worthy proposition—it would prove mostly deadly on his part.
“Okay then. Hop on the handlebars. I’ll pedal you out of here in less than five seconds.”
I hop onto the handlebars without thinking, and we whisk right by Owen with his eyes enlarged, the dark hole of his mouth widening with bewilderment.
“Ava!” Owen shouts so loud my name reverberates through the wind like a hurricane.
The golden god pedals us off campus, slowing just enough to ask where to.
“The Row!” I shout, laughing and squealing as he traverses traffic of both the vehicular and human kind before landing us on that nefarious strip of Victorian mansions that house the universities honorary geeks—or Greeks, as it were. “You are insane—you know that?” I laugh, bouncing off the handlebars and into the sand pit that sits in front of Beta Kappa Phi. The overgrown sandbox is actually a volleyball court, the only one on the block, and the boys who live here allow anyone to enjoy it because they’re just that cool. They’re gorgeous, too, thus the reason Lucky and I chose to join its sister sorority Kappa Gamma Gamma, which sits nestled directly across the street.
“Thank you.” I shrug as the golden god carefully rolls my bike before me like the gentleman he’s panning out to be.
“Who was that?” He winces into the final reserves of sunlight as the wind lashes my hair between us like a den of wild snakes. He adjusts his backpack over his shoulders, and it’s only then I note how broad they really are, how amazingly tall this brooding golden-eyed boy really is. He’s at least a good two feet taller than me. An image of me wearing sky-high heels next to him in a club bounces through my mind, and I don’t fight the idea. Nope, don’t fight it at all. If I get my way, it’ll be a reality sooner than later. I’m ready to do all of the exciting things my brief stint in high school didn’t allow for—like clubbing and dating. And clubbing and dating with this particular boy has suddenly jumped to the top of the list.
“Let me guess”—he ducks in close as if trying to capture my attention—“disgruntled ex?”
“Ex?” I inch back at the thought. “No way. More like disgruntled—deranged big brother.” I leave my deranged older sister out of it for now—out of it forever. Aubree is one topic I don’t ever plan on broaching.
“That dude was your brother?” His brows furrow, dark and thick, like a pair of overly concerned caterpillars, and I fight the urge to run my finger along each one.
“Yes.” Something in me deflates with the admission. “And he’s totally annoying, so thank you for the speedy getaway.”
“Don’t thank me.” He slouches a moment, staring off over my shoulder with a sudden void in his eyes. “I happen to be a fan of brothers. I used to be one myself.”
