“You’re Olivia Beaumont, right?” A light, tinny voice fell from her mouth. “I’m Tessa Barnes, your new roomie.” She glanced out the door once more and pushed her palm to her forehead. “Oh my God, do you know who that was?”
I nodded. “Said his name was Brax Jenkins.”
Her big blue eyes, rimmed in dark liner, bugged. “You know him?”
I shook my head and sat on the bed I stood closest to. “No, I just met him about an hour ago. He knocked me down on the lawn then insisted on helping me carry my stuff in. Why?” I purposely left out the kissing part.
My new roommate slowly shook her head. “Oh, girl. Oh … girl.” When I didn’t respond to her exasperated remark, her eyes popped open even wider. Then she muttered what sounded like a stream of Spanish under her breath. “That’s Braxton Jenkins, my darling. Sophomore. Kappa Phi brother. Winston’s big dog starting pitcher. Total man slut.” Tessa shook her head. “Bad ass, and not in a good way. He’s dangerous. Trouble with a big fucking T. If you’ve got any sense at all, you’ll stay far away from him.”
I briefly wondered what my new roomie would think if I told her Winston’s numero uno man slut had kissed me on the lawn? It didn’t take long to decide that was something better kept to myself.
What a totally strange way to start an introduction with my new college roommate: a warning to stay away from Brax Jenkins. A warning which I really didn’t need. Tessa plopped down on the end of my bed. I looked at her and lifted a curious brow. “What do you mean by dangerous?” He looked it all right. I’d thought the same thing myself. Man slut? That much was completely obvious.
The serious expression on her face made her arched brows tug forward. She crossed her tanned legs. “He’s a total punk. From Boston,” Tessa began. “Has a short fuse and as you can tell, gets into a lot of fights.” She pointed to her own eye and made an air-circle around it, referring to his shiner. “Lots and lots of fights. Starts most of them, from what I’ve heard. It’s even rumored he killed someone when he was younger.” She rubbed her arms as though the mention of Brax chilled her. “And those eyes are so freaky creeping weird.” This time, she physically shuddered. “Scary.”
Funny, those eyes of his had been scary, but I’d also thought they were—
I regarded my roommate, who seemed to be a little on the dramatic side, and smiled. “He definitely looks like trouble, but being from Boston or anywhere else doesn’t make a person a punk or a murderer,” I said. “You can’t speculate on rumor.” I realized I was defending him, when minutes ago I’d been thinking him a thug, too. Grandpa Jilly would call that being a goddamned hypocrite.
Tessa leaned forward, unaffected by my subtle chastising. “Fair enough, girl. But he is a man slut. Certifiably sound sources have told me that much. Sincerely.”
I just stared at her and waited, knowing she’d give full disclosure. I wasn’t really sure why I wanted it, but I listened anyway.
Tessa sighed, as though irritated that I couldn’t just take her warning at face value. She cleared her throat pointedly. “Braxton Jenkins isn’t just Winston’s top dog starting pitcher for the Silverbacks.” Her slight Texas drawl was made even more dramatic by her intense storytelling of Brax. “He is top-dog over the dating pool. His ego is … epic. His female conquests? Legendary. He’s all about the hootch chase, Olivia. Once he’s caught his prey, stolen the goods, he releases, just like a pro-Bass wrangler at a fishing tournament. Bang ‘em and throw ’em back.” She scowled. “More than one reliable source claims to have heard him say those exact words, too. I mean, how sanctifuckingmonious is that? Bangs and dumps, and does it with no shame. Trust me, he’s heartless. Boy’s like a damned horny hound looking for a bitch in heat.”
I couldn’t help but grin. Tessa’s drama was … entertaining. “That describes about, oh, probably most of the guys on this campus, I’d imagine. But how do you know all this about him? Aren’t you a freshman?”
Tessa bobbed her head. “My older brother is on the baseball team with him,” she said. “He warned me away months ago. Says Brax is an arrogant ass.”
I rubbed my chin with my knuckle. “Again, you just described probably ninety percent of all guys at Winston.” I held her gaze. “So you don’t actually know girls he’s been with?” I asked. Some of what she was relaying sounded more like hearsay, rather than firsthand experience like she wanted me to believe. Gossipy, and having been on the other end of that word, I totally hated it.