* * * *
“What would it take for you to join the Quidditch Club?” Greta pointed to a table of people all decked out in Harry Potter gear. She laughed, dragging me toward the booth with way too much excitement. “Seriously, Ronnie. They have T-shirts. Brooms. I need to join this group. You should too.”
“Ah, I’ll take a hard pass.” I nodded at the kid wearing a Pott Head shirt, not unlike the mug I’d bought Greta, but this time Harry’s face stared at me. I had to admit, they had a nice setup with free shirts and lots of swag.
Greta wrote her name on the clipboard and grinned like a doofus as we went to the next booth. She had already signed up for a teacher fraternity, squirrel watching, Breaking Chad, a fan club for the show created by some kid named Chad, and now Quidditch.
I signed up for absolutely nothing. I had more fun watching Greta explore each booth with such precision, as if signing up for some club could affect her entire future. She reached for my hand, as we’d planned on the walk here, and her laugh worried me. It sounded too suspicious. I glanced at her face and knew she’d donesomething. “What did you do?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all.” She giggled. I did not trust that sound. Not one bit. I almost went to kiss her to get the truth, but she pointed and ran off in a different direction. Her black sundress billowed in the wind and multiple guys turned to check her out. I couldn’t blame them.
I saw the booth she’d gone to and groaned. Only Greta would do this. It read ‘Non-Creepy People Watchers’. “G, no way.”
“What?” she asked with wide eyes. “I love watching people. It’s not creepy. It says so in the title. Duh.” She grinned with an agenda in her crazy eyes. I should’ve persisted more, but she just went back to signing her name up. I gripped her hip with one hand, pulling her away from the disturbing group. I appreciated how her entire body reacted to me. It wasn’t part of the plan. But shit, she looked fine as hell in the dress.
“Pookie.” Her tongue went to the side of her mouth. “Are you getting hands-y again?”
“Uh-huh.” I sat on the faded park bench, pulling her onto my lap. “It’s the damn dress.”
“Oh, you like it?” Her blush pleased the hell out of me. “I’m glad.”
“It gives me quick access.” I slid a hand up her thigh, her smooth skin a little piece of heaven. “Ah, does she wear panties or no?”
I stopped my hand, waiting to see what she would allow. I expected her to swat me away but instead, she shrugged. “Find out yourself, Ronnie.”
I didn’t wait a second longer. I cupped her bare ass and groaned into her neck. She wore the tiniest string of fabric. That was it. I traced her ass, my dick throbbing to be inside her again.It hasn’t even been a day.“Fuck.”
“You wanted to play the game, well, guess who’s the loser?” She lifted her mouth to mine, biting my bottom lip. “You have to walk around with a massive wood. I don’t.”
Then the little tease got up. She winked at me, leaving me stranded on the bench alone with exactly what she said—a massive wood. I mouthed “You’re dead”to her but she stuck out her tongue.
Score one for Greta.
It wasn’t until a painful twenty minutes later that I found Greta again. She stood under an old oak tree, laughing with a group of girls. I hadn’t seen them before and walked toward them when Greta waved me over. Four pairs of eyes stared at me with each step. I plastered on my smile. “Ladies.”
“Hi, Aaron.” A shy, petite girl held out her hand. I shook it, giving her a long grin. She blushed, Greta smacking me on my side.
“Don’t lay on the charm, Ronnie.” She put her arm around my waist and dug her nails into my skin.Message received.“These gals are in my cohort for teaching. Be nice to them.”
“I’m nice to everyone, Gabs.” I winked at her friends and Greta rolled her eyes. “Nice to meet you guys. Mind if I steal my girlfriend for a second?”
“Oh, no. Go ahead. We’ll chat later, Greta,” the short one squealed and Greta smacked my ass.
“God, you are such a flirt.” She tried to move her arm from me, but I kept it there. “You about killed poor Kim over there. She’s going to talk about that for weeks.”
“Nah, she’ll be okay.”
“You’re wrong. People are sort of obsessed with you. It’s disgusting.”
“Thanks for that,” I said without emotion. “You’re not charming when you’re jealous.”
“Not jealous.” She looked up at me with fire in her eyes. “It’s anger. To me, you’re just Hilly. To them, you represent what they can’t have. You’re sex on a stick, a hell of an athlete, and popular. I haven’t told you how many people I haven’t spoken to since freshman year texted me asking about you. I’ve dodged invitations to hang out from girls I can’t stand.”
And any one of them could be the mysterious author of the post defaming me.I wanted to thank her, hug her, do something, but before I could, she grabbed my face in her hands. I had no choice but to taste her minty lips. She swirled her tongue with mine, her chuckle making my heart squeeze. “Greta,” I said between kissing her. “You’re getting me hard again.”
“Sorry,” she said, her face telling me she felt no remorse. “I saw someone on my shit-list.”
“You have a shit-list?” I fought a laugh.
