The Jock by J.L. Beck Page 0,14

mad that Cage won’t pay her any attention.”

“Well, she can have him. I don’t want him if that’s the issue she has with me.”

“She has a lot of issues; Cage isn’t the only one.” He chuckles.

“Right, well, I’ve got tons of homework to do, so... it was nice to meet you, Evan.”

He nods. “Likewise, and if you ever need a friend or come to another party, though it’s doubtful after the last one, find me.” He winks, and I shake my head. Do all the football guys flirt with random nerds, or am I just the unlucky target?

“Okay,” I tell him and move past him with ease, but not before catching a whiff of his cologne. Of course, he would smell like heaven.

Walking out of the room, I think of how much my life has changed since the day I met Cage Wilder. I can’t make a single move without someone looking at me, can’t pass by someone without a whisper filling my ears. Once nameless, now everyone calls me Ice Queen.

Cage has taken my perfectly mundane life and flipped it on its axis, and I don’t like it, not one single bit. Along the way to the dorms, I stop and pick up a sandwich in the cafeteria, which thankfully isn’t brimming with people.

I pay for my food and shove the change back in my pocket, but not before the thought of my mother fills my mind. I should call her and see how she is doing on money, it wouldn’t be much, but I could send her some cash. Money gram or sending it via Transunion.

When I arrive at the dorm, I slide my student card into the access door and walk inside when the little light turns green, disengaging the lock. The walk to my floor is up three flights of stairs, which I curse the entire time.

I bet Cage jogged up them without even breaking a sweat when he showed up here. Actually, now that I think of it, how did he even get inside? Probably some starstruck girl, who he dazzled with his smirk and sinister ways. Men like Cage were trouble with a capital T.

Reaching the landing of my floor, my heart damn near leaps out of my chest when I see a chick standing outside what looks to be the door to my room. Knots form in my stomach at the thought of finally getting a roommate.

As I grow closer, I realize that the room she’s in front of is mine and that the door is hanging wide open. A voice I heard not long ago carries out into the hall, and I make my legs work a little bit faster, jogging the rest of the way to the door.

No way is my new roommate Amanda, the chick from class. The bitch who called me Ice Queen. I won’t believe it until I see it with my own two eyes.

“Oh my god. Whoever my roommate is, she’s a total geek. Who has this many books?”

Hell no, I will cut her if she touches my books.

“Someone with no social life,” the girl in the hall sneers. Gritting my teeth, I move behind her and tap her on the shoulder.

“Excuse me, can you please move?” I snap.

She turns, her eyes rake over me slowly as if she’s measuring me up. I can feel her judging me, conjuring up all kinds of things.

“Pretty sure your roommate’s here, Amanda.” She takes a step back and purses her lips, crossing her arms over her chest.

I slip into the room, and the very first thing I see is my stack of paperbacks on the floor. My mouth pops open, but before I can speak, Amanda does.

“Sorry about your books,” she apologizes in the fakest tone I’ve ever heard in my life. Hell, my mom’s shit boyfriends apologized better. “Who has that many books, anyway? Don’t you do anything else with your time besides read? Or is that why they call you Ice Queen?” She chuckles and tips her head to the side, twirling a piece of blonde hair around her finger.

She thinks she looks cute, but really, she looks like she needs punching in the face.

“My name is Blair, not Ice Queen.” I growl as I toss my bag next to my bed, and my sandwich onto the mattress before bending down to pick up my books, which are scattered across the floor like someone took each one and tossed it over their shoulder.

“Whatever, I don’t care what your