you’re a football star, people pay attention to where you stand in the popularity ranking. Demi is the reason I stay there—well that, and I’m a fucking great guy. Obviously.
“Yo, brother,” Reese greets me as I step into the locker room. “You ready for tonight?”
I pull off my shirt and dump the sweaty material in a basket, then nod and grin. “Fuck yeah. Should be awesome.”
“We’re loaded with beer. You taking your truck?”
“Yeah, man.”
“You going to swing by and get me?”
I nod.
“What about D?”
“She’s coming,” I grunt, dropping my pants and wrapping a towel around my waist.
“Heard Maci talking about the fight you two had earlier this morning.”
“Fight?” I grunt. “The bitch got angry because my dick wouldn’t stay hard for her.”
“Fucking burn!” Reese laughs. “I couldn’t stay hard for her, no matter how hot her tits are. She’s too much of a mouthy bitch.”
I snort. “You’re telling me. She can have my dick in her mouth and she’s still mumbling about something. She’s a fucking handful, that’s for damned sure.”
Reese shakes his head. “Fuck that. You need to find a good chick.”
I shrug. “Yeah, maybe.”
We shower and throw our things into our bags, then separate at the parking lot. I’m about to jump into my truck when I notice Belle standing next to a tiny, beat-up car, staring under the hood. She stomps a few times, and then runs her hands through her hair. It’s fucking adorable. Unable to help myself, I throw my bag into my truck and then walk over, stopping behind her.
“Got a problem, Blue Belle?”
She jumps, screams and topples forward. I wrap an arm around her waist, hauling her backwards and stopping her from falling beneath her hood. She stiffens in my arms, and I grin. Yep, cute.
“Car not working?” I say into her ear.
She twists out of my arms and turns, looking up at me. Fuck those eyes, they’re incredible, so fucking beautiful. I study her face, and find myself fascinated with the strawberry-blond hair that’s trailing down her shoulders. It’s long, and thick, and fucking sweet. She’s wearing a different pair of glasses; these are slim-line, and surprisingly look good on her. It gives her the naughty librarian look.
Who doesn’t want a naughty librarian?
She’s got a white dress with big black polka dots on it. Definitely not what you’d see most girls in, but it hugs her breasts before flaring out at her tiny waist, and that alone makes it look fucking good on her.
“I, ah, my car . . .”
Stammering again. My grin gets bigger. Her cheeks get pinker.
“Do I make you nervous, Blue Belle?”
She bites her bottom lip. Fuck.
“No.” She manages to speak without stammering. “I just . . . I don’t usually talk to people like you.”
“People like me?” I say, pressing a hand to my chest. “Should I be offended by that comment?”
She smiles shyly. “I don’t mean it in a nasty way, but surely you can see we’re on a whole different wavelength.”
I shrug. “I try not to pay attention to those things.”
She grunts. “You’re Maximus Jacobson. Of course you pay attention to those things.”
“Am I meant to know what that means?” I ask, reaching over and putting my hand on the opened hood, making my arm flex right near her cheek.
“It means,” she says, fidgeting, “that you know exactly what you are, who you are, and where you’re going. You are destined for big things. People like me? We’re happy to remain in the shadows.”
“You shouldn’t be in the shadows.”
Her eyes flash. “And you know that after one simple conversation?”
I grin. “Fuck yeah I do.”
She shakes her head and turns, staring at the car again.
“You need a ride?”
She sighs. “I’ll catch a bus. There are some that go by in the next few hours.”
“That’ll make it dark, and that’s dangerous. Come on. I’ll give you a ride home.”
She turns and studies me, narrowing her eyes. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
I smirk and reach around her, slamming the hood closed. Then I take her hand, tugging her towards my truck. “I won’t kill you, I swear it.”
She snorts. “Because that makes me feel so much better.”
“What other option have you got?”
She ponders that and then tugs her hand from mine. “Let me just lock my car.”
I wait as she does that, and then both of us walk to my truck. I open the door for her and she eyes me skeptically before climbing inside. I jump in the driver’s seat and turn to her. “Where do