Someone to Love(8)

“No bad breakup for me,” I whisper. “If you don’t give your heart away, you can’t get it broken.”

His pale eyes latch onto mine. He holds my gaze, heavy as steel.

“No truer words were ever spoken,” he says it low, sad as if he means it but too much.

Cruise softens and gives a little smile. He washes over me with a delicate gaze, and my insides pinch tight.

There’s something brewing inside him, inside me, and I’ve never felt this way before. It’s probably just his hormonal superpowers having their effect on me—our pheromones conducting their obligatory exchange. I bet he slays women nightly with that same “broken heater” routine. I suspect he’ll volunteer to keep me warm by way of body heat any moment now. Or at least I’m hoping.

“I can see why girls flock to you.” I turn my face toward the fire in an effort to break the spell.

“Why’s that?” He catches my gaze again, and this time its impossible to look away.

“Because anybody can have you.” I don’t bother telling him he’s gorgeous. I’m sure he’s well aware as evidenced by all the positive vaginal reinforcement. “You haven’t known me for three hours, and I bet if I ripped my jeans off, you wouldn’t turn down the offer.” Crap. I think I just subliminally propositioned him.

“You’re a smart girl, Kenny—beautiful too.” He gives the curve of a lewd smile and everything in me burns with heat.

I’ve never been called beautiful by a person of the penis before and this pleases me with a strange intensity. It’s as if I’ve needed it, craved it like a glass of water for my parched affection.

“So when do we get to the ripping of the jeans?” He inquires with far more eagerness than expected, and a titter of excitement prickles through me.

“I take it you think my experiment should commence with you.” Please God say yes.

“The experiment in which you attack the unsuspecting crotches of every living male on campus? Unless, of course, you plan on including corpses in your little jaunt on the wild side. We house those in the health and sciences building.” He gives a disbelieving smile. “Let the good times roll, Kenny.” It comes out a dare as he peers at me seductively from under his hooded lids—a dirty grin forces his dimples to twitch in turn.

“I’m starting with Pennington, remember?” I’m quick to shoot him down. Pennington probably counts as a corpse. “Besides, it would make my mother’s life if he were my first ex-husband. I think it’s the cash payout that has her drooling more than it is some romantic notion that her daughter and the son of her once upon a best friend, go down in matrimonial flames together.”

“Sounds painful.”

“It will be.” I take in his full lips, his high-set cheeks. He’s driving me insane by way of his five o’clock shadow. His lids hang heavy as he openly eyes my cleavage. “Although—I should probably get some experience under my belt before I go after a prize like Pennington. You know, practice the fine art of saliva swapping, among other things.” God, how I would love to practice the fine art of transferring bodily fluids with, Cruise Let-Me Deliver-You-from-Your-Virginity Elton.

He examines me an inordinate amount of time, uncertain of whom I profess to be. He picks up my hand and presses his lips over the back, soft and warm. It sets everything in me on fire.

“I’m more than happy to offer up my tutorial services.” He leans back and sweeps his eyes over me as if I were a meal, but there’s a sadness lurking in them just beneath the surface.

“So when do we begin?” I’m not sure I’m ready to give it all away right here in Massachusetts next to a blazing fire with a guy I hardly know, but a small part of me is begging for just that.

“Tomorrow.” He gives a quick wink while helping me to my feet. “Why don’t you get to bed.”

“Where you going?” My stomach bottoms out. He’s probably got an entire stream of girls lined up for the night who are more than qualified to handle whatever he’s willing to dish out—and because of my incessant need to preserve my virginity, I won’t be one of them.

“There’s a cold shower with my name on it,” he says, walking away.

Cold shower?

I watch as Cruise disappears into the hall and the pipes squeal to life from the bathroom.

I can’t believe a player like Cruise Elton wouldn’t try to take advantage of me. It’s obvious virgins aren’t high on his to-do list tonight.

Maybe Cruise Elton isn’t the player he makes himself out to be.