Or not. The idiot actually knocks louder this time.
I sigh and climb out of my blanket fortress. Probably just a drunk neighbor, but I’m a safety girl, so I grab the Taser from my purse and tiptoe toward the door, the thick carpet muffling my steps. Now, I’ve seen a lot in my three years at Waverly. Naked guys streaking across campus, tipsy girls railing Gloria Gaynor as they dance on their front porches, and even professors LARPing in the Quad, but none of that has prepared me for what I see when I look through the peephole.
What the hell is Austin Reid doing on my doorstep?
19
AUSTIN
This was probably a stupid idea,only my whiskey-addled brain can’t decide if the bad idea was consuming copious amounts of liquor or showing up at Carter’s apartment uninvited. Hell, maybe both. I raise my knuckles and rap on the door once more.
If she doesn’t answer this time, I’ll go.
Probably.
Fuck.I know I shouldn’t be here. It’s wrong on so many levels, not the least of which was telling one of my best friends to back off—like I have any claim over Carter—but I can’t get her out of my head. The way she isn’t impressed by the swagger and stats. The way her eyes sparkle when she’s being a smart-ass. The way she gives as good as she gets with that tart little mouth of hers. She doesn’t preen, and she sure as shit doesn’t want anything from me.
Unlike most people in my life.
I know I’m lucky to be following in my father’s footsteps, that I’m blessed with talent and living a life most people only dream of, but it took a hell of a lot of hard work to get where I am and sometimes the pressure feels like it’ll crush me. I don’t want to sound like a whiny little bitch, but the truth is, most people in my life are angling for something.
Sex. Parties. Tickets. Autographs.
And listening to all those people at the party talk about how I’m going to win Waverly a national title and get drafted in the first round?
It’s exhausting. I just want to be somewhere that I can be myself, with someone I know doesn’t give a shit about the Austin Reid legacy or what I can do for them. And that’s the crux of the matter, isn’t it?
Everyone wants a piece of me, expects great things from me. Except Carter.
With her, I can be myself.
It’s funny, actually. I thought that leg of hers would be my saving grace. Turns out it’s just…her. The indifference she wears like battle armor is a salve to the pressure that’s always burning, slow and steady, just below the surface. The weakness I can’t show anyone.
Not even my own father.
I raise my hand to knock again, but the door swings open and there stands Carter, looking more tempting than a midnight snack. My gaze drifts over her, drinking in every detail from the way her hair falls in loose waves over her bare shoulders to the look of surprise that makes her dark eyes appear so damn innocent. She’s wearing a pink tank top—no bra—and I can see the faint outline of her nipples through the thin fabric, which skims the waistband of her shorts.
I shouldn’t look, but I’m only human, for fuck’s sake, and I can’t tear my eyes away from the tiny sleep shorts that showcase her gorgeous legs.
Carter clears her throat and I raise my eyes to meet hers, giving her the cocky QB grin I know drives her nuts.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, pretending to be annoyed. She’s a terrible actress. Her body language totally gives her away as she leans toward me, closing the distance between our bodies. Plus, she doesn’t slam the door in my face, so that’s got to be a good sign, right?
“You know, where I come from, it’s considered good manners to invite a guest in, maybe offer them a cold beverage, before the inquisition.”
She gives a sexy little snort and juts out her hip. “Funny, where I come from it’s considered good manners not to show up in the middle of the night uninvited. You do realize I’m not one of the jersey-chasing floozies who are enamored by your ability to throw a ball, right?”
“Trust me, Carter. I would never mistake you for the kind of woman who would be impressed by my amazing athleticism.” I raise an arm over my head, resting it against the doorjamb, my bicep inches from her face. She’d never admit it, but I saw her checking me out in the locker room, and I have a feeling I’m not the only one here having NC17 thoughts about my teammate.
This time she rolls her eyes, but there’s a hint of a smile on her lips.
I’m totally wearing her down.
“You’re lucky I didn’t tase you.” She waves a little black flashlight in the air and at the press of a button, a bolt of electricity crackles to life.
Holy shit. She’s serious. “You were going to tase me?”
She shrugs and opens the door wider, a sly grin spreading across her face. It’s sexy as hell and a thrill races up my spine. “Still might, but you’re welcome to come in and take your chances.”
