“Biomedical engineering, huh? What is that? Like . . . designing medical equipment?”
Her eyebrows lift, and she turns so that she’s facing me, leaning her hip against the counter. She cocks her head to the side, and I’m pretty sure that’s a good thing, but I’m suddenly far too distracted by the perfect view I have down her shirt, and those damn pigtails that make my blood rush south.
It’s a good thing I’m wearing a snug pair of compression shorts beneath this damn loincloth.
“It can be, yes.” She sounds impressed, and I’m grateful that all those years spent chasing after Lina made me take more interest in studying. “It’s a growing field, but it can encompass everything from inventing or operating medical equipment to prosthetic design to research. It covers basically anything where the study of machines and technology meets the study of the human body.”
“So, what you’re telling me is that you’re a genius.”
She pushes a loose strand of hair behind her ear and answers, “I’m not a genius.”
“Look around the room, sweetheart.” I pause to let her view some of the alcohol-induced stupidity going on around us. “In this place, I think Darwin would definitely deem you among the fittest to survive.”
A brilliant smile blooms across her face, and I send up a silent thanks to Mrs. Ehrhardt, my high school biology teacher, for being such a hard-ass and never letting me get away with sleeping in her class.
“I think it’s safe to say that you would also be considered in that top tier.” She fidgets with her cup, but doesn’t lift her eyes to mine.
“Oho.” I grin. “A compliment. Softening to me already.” She rolls her eyes and sighs. I lean down until my mouth is close to her ear and ask, “You think I’m fit, girl genius?” All I can think about is how well I think she’ll fit against me. What I wouldn’t give to fill my hands with her perfect curves.
“Don’t be absurd. It’s perfectly clear that you know you’re . . .” She trails off and gestures primly in the direction of my bare chest.
“It’s perfectly clear that I’m what?”
“You’re an athlete. So, of course you’re in very good physical shape.”
“Personally, I prefer your physical shape, but thank you all the same.”
“How do you manage to make everything dirty?”
“It’s the curse I bear. I just can’t help myself.”
“Yes, well . . . I’m going to help myself to some fresh air. I think that”—she pauses to fan at her face a few times—“the alcohol has made me too warm.”
I want to tell her it’s not the alcohol. Or I want to believe it’s not anyway. Surely with all the blushing and her nerves, she must be feeling the same connection to me that I’m feeling to her. Or is it only that I’ve teased her too much? Did I take it too far? Damn it. I just can’t help it. I like the fire in her eyes when she’s flustered. It’s almost as much of a turn-on as that damn outfit.
I finish off the last of my beer, her beer actually, and say, “I’ll go with you.”
“Oh, thanks. But . . . I wanted to make a phone call. I’ll come back in a little bit.”
I frown. I’m almost positive she has no intention of making a phone call, which means I was right. I’m screwing this all up. Again.
With Lina . . . I had years to get to know her, to figure out how to talk to her. We were at ease with each other. Nell is most certainly not at ease with me. And I can already tell she’s a complex girl, and I’m going to have to do a hell of a lot better if I want to get to know her.
“Okay,” I say. “Just be careful. It’s dark out, and there are a lot of people around. If you need anything, come find me or one of the guys.”
She nods, takes two steps away from me, and hesitates. Then she turns and says, “Thanks for the drink.”
As if watching her walk away weren’t frustrating enough, the bounce of that short skirt just below her delectable ass is enough to give a healthy man heart failure. If I don’t find a way to get my hands on her tonight, I’m likely to go insane before morning.
TIME DRAGS AFTER Nell leaves, and no matter how many conversations I get pulled into, nothing holds my interest. Partying is what I do. Interacting with people is my strong point. And that makes Halloween pretty much my favorite day of the year. And yet . . . all I want to do is kick everyone out, put some gory movie on Netflix, and be alone with my thoughts.
God, this girl is messing with my head.
Maybe it’s because for the first time since Lina and I broke up, I’m not looking at the world in terms of distractions. All the things that used to entertain me, the things that helped me get over her . . . now they’re just annoying the hell out of me, and I wish I could drown them all out.
I’m half tuned into a conversation with Brookes and Ryan and a few more people about next week’s game when I spy Silas across the room. He gives Dylan a peck on the cheek and then takes her cup and heads for the kitchen, presumably to get her a refill.
I walk away from our group without making an excuse. Zay calls after me, but I wave him off. I dodge around people as quick as I can, and snag Dylan’s wrist before anyone else can pull her into a conversation. She freezes up, whirling around to face me, and I immediately let go of her arm.
“Sorry. I . . . Sorry.”
She shakes her head. “It’s fine. You just caught me by surprise. What’s up?”
“I need you to tell me about Nell.”
Her brows furrow, and for a few silent seconds I think she might actually help me. Then she bursts into laughter.
“I’m sorry, Torres. But you’ve got to be out of your mind. There is absolutely zero chance that I’m going to help you hook up with my roommate.”
“Come on. I’m not that bad.”
“I didn’t say you were bad. You are charming and funny and incredibly loyal. But you’re also a flirt. And you’re easily distracted by new, shiny, scantily clad things. And Nell is . . . she’s different. She may not seem fragile, but she is. And I would like to continue hanging out with all of you and keep my roommate. I’m not sure that would be possible if I let you anywhere near her.”
My spine locks up, and the tension starts creeping up around my shoulders, down my arms, all the way to my clenched fists.
“I’m not going to hurt her.”
“Listen, I respect that you’re up front with girls about your nonrelationship style. But Nell hasn’t dated much. I don’t know how she’d handle being with someone like you, so I think it’s better if it just didn’t happen.”
“You can’t stop me from pursuing her.”
And that was the dumbest thing I could have said. Dylan straightens, squaring her shoulders and giving me an intimidating stare. I can see the protective fire in her eyes, and combined with her Statue of Liberty costume, she definitely doesn’t look like anyone you’d want to mess with unless you’d like to get clobbered with a fake torch.
“What I meant to say is . . . I like her. If this were just about getting into her pants, I’d turn around and leave with my tail tucked between my legs. Honest. But I think she’s . . . interesting. I don’t know how to talk to her, though. Every time I think I’m gaining ground, she locks up tight or runs away. I just need to know what I’m doing wrong.”
Dylan sighs and stares at me.
“You promise me that you’re serious about this?”
“I am. I just want to get to know her better. And I promise I won’t let things go too far until I’m certain I’m in it.”
Dylan rubs at her eyes and groans. “Tell me something. The only time I’ve ever seen you pursue a girl longer than one night is when she’s not interested. Is this some kind of subconscious thing you do because you don’t really want to be in a relationship?”
“Maybe I just don’t see the point in going after someone I’m not willing to fight for.”
She purses her lips and begrudgingly replies, “Good answer.” She examines me a moment longer and sighs. “I’m so going to regret this.”
“Ah. Captain Planet. You’re the best.”
“Just tell me what you want to know.”
“What kind of guys does she like?”
Dylan blinks at me. “You know . . . I don’t have the slightest clue. She’s never seemed all that interested in guys.”
“Are you saying she’s—”
“No. I don’t know. Nell’s life doesn’t revolve around social things like parties or dating. She’s all about school. She’s focused and driven, and she puts her everything into her classes. I think it’s because she was the first person in her family to go to college. She feels like she has to prove herself, so she’s never really made any time for anything else.”
Well, damn. I certainly know what that’s like . . . feeling like you have to prove that you’re worth people’s attention.
“Then why is she all of a sudden coming to parties?”
She bites her lip, worrying it before she answers. “That would be my doing. I told her that she wasn’t getting the full experience out of college by just focusing on classes. Now I think she’s trying to broaden her horizons a bit.”