One of them says something, and there’s laughter. I wince inwardly at an exceptionally high-pitched giggle.Sadie Woodward.The bane of my existence.
The college paired us as roommates our freshman year, when we all had to live in on-campus housing. She wanted to trade me for Bronte, one of her best friends, but without my agreement, she couldn’t. And I wasn’t going to agree, especially since Sadie wanted me to take Bronte’s room. Bronte’s dorm was old, away from the main campus and had subpar plumbing that everyone knew about. The joke is that the boys can’t poop there because it’ll clog the pipes.
My refusal set Sadie off. She told me she needs a roommate with “class and gloss,” and some poor kid from L.A. wasn’t going to cut it. It pissed her off even more when her boyfriend stared at my ass too long. As if I wanted that gross Neanderthal near me!
Later, I overheard her tell her friends she’d rather live with a cockroach. The feeling wasalmostmutual. I’d have gladly traded her for a small spider.
Sadie tosses her golden hair and pauses, wrinkling her nose. She lowers her sunglasses to peer at me, like she can’t believe what she’s seeing. “What areyoudoing here? Get a job shoveling horse shit from the stable?”
Other girls look at me and start giggling.
“No.” I tilt my head, gazing at her thoughtfully. She’ll know which one of the boys is my delinquent partner. And given her temper, she might blurt out something that can help me locate him. “I’m actually here to talk to Grant Lasker.”
The superior hilarity vanishes from Sadie’s face, and she glances at the field.
So. He’s one of the riders.
“For what?” The tight set of her mouth and shoulders says that if I don’t answer to her satisfaction, I won’t be seeing him.
She’s insane if she thinks she can stop me with her sticklike arms and legs. “None of your business.”
“He’s too busy to talk to somebody like you,” she says.
“Sure, your nosiness. But I don’t think he needs you to speak for him. He’s a big boy.” I hope he can act like an adult and agree to work on the paper.
I turn away and go to the fence to look at the players. They’re swinging mallets around, trying to hit a ball. One of the riders in particular is extra aggressive, moving in between two players without slowing down. Some of his maneuvers look dangerous to me, but nobody’s stopping him, so I guess they’re legal…? Or maybe they’re too intimidated to complain, since he’s almost half a head taller than them—and wider, too, with lots of solid muscle.
Stop ogling him,my internal voice warns.
Right.Focus on the mission.Which one is Grant?
Sadie marches over. “Get out! It isn’t like you’re a member of the club.”
I point at the sign to the left of the parking lot. “That actually says ‘all welcome.’”
“There’s all, and then there’sall.”
“You planning to drag me out?” I look at her fingers. “You might break one of those pretty nails.” I’ll make sure of it if she tries.
Her jaw drops. She likely believes “small people” shouldn’t talk back.
Suddenly, her expression flips from sneering to pleasantness. I blink at the abrupt change, then look around to see what could’ve caused it. A tall guy on a horse has stopped right in front of us. Based on his uniform and the white, star-shaped spot on his horse’s forehead, I realize this is the super-aggressive one I was admiring earlier.
I put a hand over my eyes and squint. The sun’s directly behind him, and it’s hard to see his face, although I can tell his features are extra fine. It’s the strong jaw and eyes, I decide. I can never resist them, and he has the best I’ve ever seen, although I can’t quite tell his eye color from here. And the body can’t be faulted, either. He looks like a medieval warrior on that huge horse, his shoulders broad and thighs powerful.
I wonder if there’s a name embroidered on his shirt. Actually, it’d be easier if I just ask him about my never-to-be-found project partner.
Sadie steps forward, pushing me to the side with a hard swing of her hip.
“Ow! Hey!”
But she isn’t paying attention. Her focus is on the guy on the horse. She smiles, her overbleached teeth blinding in the sun. “Hey, Grant.”
I swivel back to the guy. “You! You’re Grant Lasker?”
God is unfair. This guy has a trust fundandlooks? And I’ve been mentally drooling over him.Ugh. No, no!
Grant cocks his head, his eyes on me. I can feel him studying me from head to toe, but I can’t tell what he’s thinking. “Who are you?”
