"I think there's a rule that you have to be the Valentine of the guy you have a semi-public romp in the shower with. You know, on Valentine's."
"Sounds like itshould bea rule." I turned to face him. My breasts pressed into his chest, and other parts of my body thirsted to be closer. "But, are you sure that's what you want, when you could be surrounded by all your manyfangirling 'dates?'" The words tasted bitter on my tongue. "Vying for your heart—or to take you home?"
"Not one woman has been anywhere near my, ahem"—he gestured toward his semi-erect length—"heartsince that night."
I rolled my eyes and couldn’t help but giggle. The mini-roses he gave me came to mind. I brought my hand up to cup his cheek. His stubble rubbed prickly edges against my fingertips.
"I don't want anyone else, Ella." His voice rumbled in his chest, hitting that perfect pitch that turned my insides into wobbling jelly.
I leaned into his shoulder. He tilted his head and his eyelids slid shut, like that first night, as he waited for my kiss. I stopped. "Hm, maybe you should ask me?"
He opened those grey-blue eyes and stared straight through me. "Will you, Ella, take this grunt, Maddox, as your official valentine for the balance of eight hours?"
"Oh, that's all?"
"And be his girlfriend after?" His mouth tucked up into that smirky grin.
"There's always a catch." I snickered as he narrowed his eyes at me. "I mean, I will."
"Can I kiss my valentine now?"
"Hm, depends." I held his gaze as I slid into his lap. And the towel that wasn't much of a towel slipped away.
His hands settled on my waist. "On what?"
I grinned. "Do I get to kiss you back?"
"Oh hell yes." He dipped his head, lowering his lips to mine.
Bonus Scene
SEAGER
Two Years Later
Lloyd Commons Residence
The numbers in the textbook swam in front of my eyes. Nothing was working in my brain since that hacking bullshit went down.Damned Fendleman and those buncha baseball rejects.
I slammed the book shut. "Hackers." My voice rumbled in the empty room.Strikers don't fucking cheat."What's wrong with those boneheaded morons?"
I let out a long breath as fatigue leached at the fight in my veins. "Rrrrah!" I stood, stretching my shoulders and arms. I paced, bare feet slapping against the tile, trying to loosen the tight, aching desperation—to move, to punch, to run! I wanted to jump off the top of the residence and land on my feet. I wanted to go fifteen rounds with that damned jarheaded Marine who'd actually give me a run for my money.
"He's a piece of work." I spoke to the outline of my reflection in the window. Students milled about on the lawn outside. A jeep blaring hip-hop music, and crammed full of arms and legs pulled into the parking lot. Whoops and hollers loud enough to wake the damned dead greeted the group as they spilled out. The roar of a souped-up engine—without a muffler,ass, alerted the people in the next county that the guy with the smallest dick had arrived.
"There's always a fucking party." I rolled my eyes and turned away. I'd have to make an appearance at some point. The job of quarterback for the top-ranked team in the country was already wearing a bit thin in places. People recognized me all over this one-horse town.
I was the "loose cannon" with a cannon for an arm. Which was apparently the same as being the most expensive bauble a chick wanted to wear on her arm. There’d been some pretty hot girls to come and go through my bedroom, but not a one of 'em had fucking ears that worked.
I flicked open my phone as I paced back toward the window. The background wallpaper rotated; today's was the unicorn picture Amberine drew for me.
“Aw, such a pretty unicorn. Does it come with a crown, sweetie?”
I snarled at the redshirted moron. “You have two seconds to get out of my face, ass-for-brains.”
“Don’t you trash talk that unicorn now.” Sato appeared out of fucking nowhere. And yet he was the only guy on the field that made me look small.
“Amberine made that, and she’s a certified angel. Don’t start shit you’re not prepared to finish.”
