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Into Your Arms (Squad Stories #1)(32)

By:helsea M. Cameron


Pretty sure wanting his hot bod isn't going away anytime soon, but as long as I don't fall for his mind, I'm good. I can handle it.

I totally can.

Grrrrr. I get up from my desk and go to the fridge, looking for something to eat to distract me. I grab some carrot sticks and start crunching them.

Yeah, that's not gonna work for me right now. I toss them back in the fridge and reach into the back of the freezer for the ice cream. Perfect.

I wish I could stick my face in a bucket of ice cream. That might help. I go back to the couch and pick up the paperback I've been reading that I left on the coffee table. 

Rhett had quite a few books in his apartment, and they all looked like they'd been read more than once. I nearly fell over when I not only found Austen on his shelves, but the Brontes and Mary Shelley. I just . . . I didn't peg him for the kind of guy who would be willing to read a book written by a woman. Let alone several.

Maybe that was my own fault for assuming. Still. It surprised me. And then when he said he worked at the campus day care. That was even more surprising, and the mental picture of Rhett covered in a pile of children was almost comical. I bet he gives excellent piggyback rides to five children at once. His shoulders are wide enough.

Weird. So weird. I really need to stop thinking about him.

Yeah, good luck with that, Freya.

* * *

The rest of the week goes by without incident. We cheer our next game, and the routine goes much better. Next week is our first away game and I'm really looking forward to it. We're only heading to New Hampshire, but still. It will be nice to get away from my seriously depressing apartment even for a night. I'm rooming with Tobi, Willow, and Carrie, and I'm hoping it will be like a silly sleepover. I haven't had one of those in forever. I just wanna stay up and eat cookie dough and paint each other's toenails and watch old movies. Even though I'm close with Tobi and the rest of the girls, I know I push them away. They invite me to things frequently, but I always make excuses. I don't know why I do it.

I want friends. I want to be social. But I always feel like there's something holding me back from it. I'm scared. I'm afraid that they'll ask too many questions that I don't have answers for. Even though none of them have done that. I need to stop assuming things about everyone, apparently.

Yeah, that's something I'm going to have to work on.

* * *

Sunday I'm at the library again and I look up at one point and there he is. Rhett Miller. With a messenger bag slung over one shoulder and a grin on his bearded face. I pull my earbuds out and look up at him.

"Can I help you with something?"

"Yes, actually. I'm making fettuccine Alfredo with chicken and I need another person to help me eat it." I snort.

"That is one of the most pathetic lines I've ever heard. Congratulations." I pretend to clap slowly.

"Thank you, thank you," he says, pretending to be emotional and wiping away tears. I giggle a little and get glares from neighboring tables. Tobi still hasn't looked up from her textbook. It would take a hurricane to pull her out of it, and maybe not even then.

"You are ridiculous," I say, but it comes out as a compliment. He winks and I bite back a smile.

"Thanks. So, what do you think? I can meet you here and drive or you can just show up. No pressure. So, maybe I'll see you and maybe I won't." He pretends to tip a hat and then he's off. I kick Tobi, and she gives me a death stare.

"The fuck?"

"Rhett was here," I say after she takes her earplugs out.

"Oh, was he?" She's totally oblivious.

"Yeah, and he asked me to come over to his place for dinner again." Tobi wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. I wish she had a boyfriend to distract her from meddling in my love life. But she's determined to get through her undergraduate degree with no romantic entanglements. She doesn't have the spare time, anyway.

"You've got a date, girl." She's grinning like this is something to celebrate.

"It's not a date," I hiss at her and she laughs softly.

"Whatever you want to call it. But you like him and he likes you, and there are only so many ways that this can go. I'd make the most of it, because I bet he's amazing in bed. I mean, just think about having him over you with those shoulders to hold onto? Fuck, I need to get laid." She looks off into the distance, and I make a face.



       
         
       
        

I do not need to be thinking about Rhett on top of me. Or under me. Or in any other naked configuration with me.

Oh, shit. Now I'm picturing it, and it's not going to get out of my head anytime soon. I can feel my cheeks getting red. One of the many downsides of having extremely pale skin is having EVERY emotion show. My veins show everywhere, which is another annoyance, but isn't quite as bad as the blushing.