door and onto the quad. It feels wrong having any kind of distance after what we’d experienced in the Stairway. Like what we did was shameful. I’m definitely not ashamed to have the taste of Vandy on my tongue.
I give her five minutes to get across the campus, to the parking lot, before I walk into the cool, fall air. I’m passing the main building when I see Sydney leaning against the wall in a pair of black, skin-tight booty-shorts that barely cover her ass. Her eyes narrow briefly when she sees me, but then her lips quirk into a smile.
“Reyn, hey.”
I don’t slow my stride. “Hey, Syd.”
She pushes off the wall and rushes to catch up. “My car’s in the shop and my sister was supposed to pick me up. According to ChattySnap, though, she’s at the Nerd with her boyfriend.” She rolls her eyes. “Any way I can catch a ride home?”
At this point, we’re in the parking lot, a few feet away from my Jeep. Saying no would be rude as hell, and despite everything, she’s Vandy’s friend. “Yeah, sure.” I unlock the doors. “Hop in.”
I toss my bag in the back and get behind the wheel. Sydney slides in the front seat as I crank the engine. She lifts her foot and rests it on the glove compartment, eyes searching her leg. “Shit. I knew it.”
I glance over. She has a huge black mark on her inner thigh. “Damn, what happened?”
She grazes her fingers over the bruise. “Oh, collateral damage from being on top of the pyramid. I have bruises all over my body.” She grins. “But you’d know all about that, being a football player.”
“Yeah, I guess,” I mutter, pulling out of the parking lot, as she starts to go into a rant about how cheerleaders are real athletes despite everyone just thinking they’re for show.
“You wouldn’t believe how hard we work. There’s cardio, tumbling, strength training… it’s a serious workout.” She pulls up the hem of her shirt. “Check out my six-pack.”
I nod, but barely look. I’m still humming from my time in the Stairway. Whatever this girl is selling, I don’t want any.
“Uh,” I say, pulling up to the four way stop. “Where do you live?”
“Cedar Grove,” she replies pointing to the left. “You haven’t been to my house before, have you? I have a pool. You should come by sometime for a swim.”
It feels egotistical to assume a chick wants on your dick, because let’s face it, usually they don’t. They want a compliment, or a little flirting. But Sydney? I have a feeling she’d be into road head if I suggested it. Which I’m not. What I want is to get her out of my car. Despite having done this out of respect to Vandy, it suddenly feels like anything but.
“I have this new bikini,” she continues, unaware that I’d stopped listening to figure out if it would be bad form to toss her out at the next stop sign. “It’s white with black stars. Luckily, our pool is heated so we can use it all year. My dad also installed a new hot tub that is so relaxing after a long workout.” She pauses and then adds, “I’ve been trying to get Vandy to come hang with me, but she’s busy all the time. Plus, you know how she is about bathing suits.”
I turn into the Cedar Grove entrance and frown. “What do you mean?”
“God, she’s so self-conscious. About the scars. Like, I would die if I had to wear a one-piece forever, especially if I had her rockin’ bod.”
Talking to Sydney is like trying to decipher a puzzle. One sentence is a compliment. The next an insult. She digs and pokes and soothes, all at the same time. No wonder Emory is so lukewarm about their friendship.
“I don’t know,” I say, hating the game she’s playing. “Scars can be kind of sexy.”
I can feel her stare hot on the side of my face, and I know she’s trying to come up with something flippant, something to shift the conversation back to her. She snaps her mouth shut, and after flipping her hair over her shoulder, gestures to a large brick house coming up on our right. I pull up to the curb, making it very clear that I am not going inside.
I already know she’s going to ask.
I’m staring out the front window, waiting for her to open the door when I feel her hand on my thigh. “Thanks