Fierce(31)

I wonder what in the world he’s hiding.

“Well, your wounds look like they’ve healed quite nicely. Should be no more than a couple of days before the scars are completely gone.”

“Too bad. I kinda liked the idea of looking like a pirate.” He leans closer, makes a yaarrghh sound, and forms hooks with his fingers.

We both burst out into laughter.

We spend the next hour going over his homework and outlining what needs to be done in order to catch up. He’s behind schedule by quite a bit, and it worries me to see him struggle this much. I didn’t know he had so much trouble coping with college life.

When he throws the book to the other end of the room, I sigh.

“Enough for today. I’m fucking tired already,” he says, yawning.

“But we haven’t even started yet.”

He shrugs, and I stand up. I pick up his book lying next to the book shelf, and when I come back up I can’t help skim over the many books inside. It’s like a treasure chest to me. I wish I could just grab a bunch of them, sneak out, lock myself in my room, and read all day.

I hear footsteps behind me. Then I feel his chest press up against my back.

I shudder. His pecs are pushing against my back, and I love how it feels. My whole body clenches with need.

“I used to read a lot when I was little,” he says softly.

“I can see …” I say.

“You like books a lot, don’t you?” he says, and he lowers his head so he can look into my eyes. I don’t dare turn my head. I’m much too excited. Electrified by his proximity.

And then my eyes catch a peculiar book. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone.

I gasp. “Oh my God! You’ve read Harry Potter? God, it’s been ages since I last saw that book.”

He chortles softly, so close to my ear it’s making me shiver.

I turn around within his arms and find myself gazing into his hypnotizing eyes.

“I told you, you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. Reading is … difficult. But if I have the patience, I enjoy it.” I don’t even hear the words he’s saying. All I can see are those rugged lips as they separate. How he licks his lips in between and squeezes them. How I want to kiss him.

He inches forward. The intoxicating scent of his aftershave arouses me. His arm reaches past me, and I’m still amazed by the size of his muscles as they move beside me. I gulp when I see them flex. He takes out the book and holds it in front of me.

“You can have it.”

He waits until I hold up my hands and gives it to me. “I … I …” I stammer like a dribbling, love-struck teen.

When I look at him all I see is hotness. Power. Masculinity. He radiates sex. Oozes it from his protruding veins. Screams it through his magnificent eyes.

And it’s such a turn-on, I can’t stand it.

All I want is for him to be closer, to touch him, to have his hands all over me. I’d like that.

Suddenly he moves back and clears his throat. “Well, I guess we should call it a day, for now. Let’s continue tomorrow.” He opens the door for me.

I smile and draw in a much-needed breath. “Yeah, sure.” I walk to the door, clenching the book firmly against my chest.

“Cool,” he says as I walk out. “See you tomorrow then?”

I nod, and he nods, and then a moment of very uncomfortable silence follows.

“See ya,” he says, and then he closes the door in front of me.

I just stand there, staring at the wood. My heart is beating like crazy. My breath is crazily fast. I want to jump up and down from all the tension that’s been building up inside me.

God, I could squeal forever.

I have to tell someone. I really have to talk to someone, right now. This has got to come out.

I think I’m falling for Hunter.

But Evie’s not around, and I have no idea where to find her. Sure, I could go looking, but that would take me ages, and by that time it’ll no longer be fresh.

Maybe I could tell Brody.

It’s not such a bad idea, actually. I mean, he was my best friend, before I had Evie. He can’t have changed that much, can he? I don’t want our friendship to disappear. Maybe if I tell him some good news he’ll cheer up.

Before I realize it, I’m already standing right in front of his door. I try not to be overly enthusiastic as I open it.

“Brody, I …”

My voice stops working.

Brody’s behind his desk, fidgeting with plastic bags. He’s putting some white powder inside them.

My eyes widen as I see him doing the thing I never imagined. He’s preparing drugs?

He turns his head the moment I burst in and covers his stuff with his jacket. “What are you doing here?” he snaps.