I open my mouth to apologize, but the hot guy speaks first. “Polite much, Kate?” Turning back to me, his face tightens into a mask of concern. I have to bite back the shiver that slides down my spine as his eyes skim my body. “Are you sure that you’re okay? You really wrenched your ankle when you fell. Let me see.”
His fingers graze the skin of my calf and it’s as if the gears in my head chug to life all at once. I regain my balance and mumble, “I’m fine, uh, but thanks.”
Keeping my back to him so that he can’t stare at the angry jagged pink line that runs from my right ear down to my collarbone, I wipe my clammy palms on my shorts and pull my long hair over my shoulder.
“Well, it was a pleasure to catch you. My services are always available for pretty girls like yourself.”
I blink twice. Is this guy seriously flirting with me in front of his date after I just fell on top of him? And did he just call me pretty? Is this supposed to be some kind of a joke or is he really that arrogant?
I twist around and see that he’s standing now, his head bent slightly to one side like he’s considering something. He’s tall—definitely topping six feet—with a body that brings a flush to my cheeks. It’s the kind of body you normally see on TV—long legs colliding with a broad, chiseled-out torso and tanned arms that put the stretchability of his t-shirt sleeves to the test. God. And that face… It’s a mosaic of angular planes: straight brows falling away to intensely green eyes, a narrow nose, and a severe jawline. His hair seems to be the softest thing about him—a tumble of disheveled sunshine, just long enough that it begs to be touched by female fingers.
Handsome isn’t the right word. It sounds too bland and average and this guy is anything but average.
As if he’s reading my thoughts, he shifts his weight to one hip and smiles at me. It’s a doozy. Dimples, teeth… the whole shebang. He moves his arm to grip the back of his neck and in the process he exposes a slice of his bare stomach. Wow. I have the sudden urge to walk over and skate my hands over his wide, powerful shoulders and up to his hair and… God. Get a grip, Aimee.
Still on the grass, his girlfriend—Kate, I think he called her—is glaring at me with open hostility and I can’t say that I blame her. I’m sure that people try to steal her boyfriend all of the time. Bitchiness must be her conditioned response to any and all threats.
“I—uh, I…” What is wrong with me? It’s like my entire vocabulary has been completely swiped from my brain.
“Once I heard someone say that a simple hello could lead to a million wonderful things.” The angle of his chin deepens and his gorgeous smile goes lopsided. It’s clear that this guy is enjoying my embarrassment. “What’s your name? I think you owe me that much.”
Seriously? Flames lick up my cheeks and tickle my earlobes. I suck in a breath and try again. “Thanks for the help but I don’t think I owe you my name.”
He laughs. “You’re not going to tell me your name?”
“Is that going to be a problem?”
“No. Not a problem, just a shame.” He furrows his brow in mock disappointment. His index finger waggles between our bodies. “I’ve really enjoyed this.”
Who the hell is this guy? I’m tempted to say something snarky to put him in his place. I rub my tongue over the bridge of my teeth and open my mouth and—
“Aimee?”
I automatically turn to the sound of my name and see my sister standing about ten feet away. She’s under a low, slanted overhang with her mouth slightly ajar and her eyes flared wide.
I think that the guy says something else, but I’ve stopped listening. Dodging a few students, my gaze zeroes in on Mara’s thumb, which is poised precariously on the screen of her phone. I really do not need her to call our mother right now.
“Don’t call Mom.” I adjust the strap of my bag and pull on the bottom of my blue shirt. “Please.”
Tucking her phone into the pocket of her linen shorts, Mara darts a shadowed look at me over her shoulder and starts to walk. I keep pace beside her. “What. The. Hell.”
I let air whistle through my teeth. “I know…”
Mara’s head juts forward, her blue eyes full of intention as we continue down the path toward the Student union . “Aimee, I leave you for exactly thirty seconds so that I can drop something off at the Bursar’s Office, and you go and trip over Cole Everly? Of all the thousands of students that you could have encountered today…”
“Cole Everly?”
“Yes. Cole Everly. You know, the perfect specimen of manhood that you just trucked.”