I arch a brow. “Really?”
I mean, he’s not wrong, but who is he to weigh-in on my nonexistent love life?
“Absolutely.” He smirks, riding the razor-sharp line between confident and cocky. “It’s easy to appreciate a beautiful woman. But it takes a real man to appreciate a beautiful, confident woman who can take care of herself.”
A warm flush spreads across my chest. He thinks I’m beautiful?
So not the point, Harper.
“Um, thanks.” Because, yeah, that was probably the best compliment I’ve ever received. After all, what woman doesn’t want to be respected for being confident and self-sufficient? Hell, most of the guys I know are intimidated by strong women.
Just another reason to avoid dating until after graduation.
He takes a long slug from his water bottle and I watch in fascination as his throat bobs, the corded muscles of his neck rippling seductively. My pulse flutters and I glance down at my red plastic cup, which is mostly empty now.
Time to lay off the beer, because throats? Not supposed to be sexy.
“I take it you’re not part of the Greek scene?” he asks with a knowing grin.
“Nope.” I turn to search the writhing crowd for Bri. I need to get out of here before I do something stupid like throw my panties at this unicorn. Becauseof coursethe universe would tempt me with the only enlightened male on campus when I’m already behind on life. “I guess you could say I’m popping my Greek Row cherry tonight.”
Oh. My. God.
As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I realize what I’ve said. And that flush on my chest? Yeah, it’s scorching up my neck and across my cheeks like a five-alarm blaze.
“Okay, that sounded bad,” I stammer, resisting the urge to fan my face. “I didn’t mean—”
“It’s all good,” he says, chuckling. He’s got a nice laugh. Rich, warm, and unreserved. “I know what you meant, Red.”
“Quit calling me Red.”
“Well, I’m sure as shit not calling you Ariel.” He quirks a brow and stares pointedly at my fake hair. “Red suits you, but I’d much prefer your real name.”
Busted.
“I’ll tell you what,” he says, pitching his voice low. His eyes lock on mine and there goes my stupid heart again, fluttering like a hummingbird on Red Bull. “Dance with me and afterward, if you don’t want to tell me your name, no hard feelings.”
“Pass. I don’t dance,” I say automatically, giving him another once-over. My short-ass toga has nothing on his, which is bordering on indecent. “Besides, I’m pretty sure you’re one song away from flashing your bits to the entire house.”
Not that I don’t appreciate the view, because I hate sculpted pecs, six-pack abs, and thick thighs…said no woman ever.
“I like to show off my legs,” he says with a smirk. “They’re one of my best attributes.”
Yes, yes they are.
And there’s no harm in looking, right?
“I’m not one to push my company on a woman, Red, but you know where to find me if you change your mind,” he says, pointing toward the beer pong table.
“I won’t.” I don’t know which one of us I’m trying to convince, but even I’m not buying that line.
“Fair enough.” He shrugs, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. “I’m going to walk away now, but don’t think I won’t know if you’re staring at my second-best asset.”
He turns, and wouldn’t you know it? I find myself doing just that, the white sheet pulled tight across the firm muscles of his ass for my viewing pleasure.
Chase
Several of my teammates slap me on the back and offer fist bumps as I join the crowd at the beer pong table. Reid and Coop, Waverly football’s biggest bromance, are facing off against a couple of Sigs. One of the guys offers me a beer, but I decline, holding up my nearly empty water bottle.
