You're the Reason - J. Nathan Page 0,46

ask questions or take things personally?

“What do you say?” he asked.

Damn you, dreamy blue eyes. I didn’t want to be mad at him. But I also didn’t want him to break my heart. And everything about him told me he’d break my heart. But being a glutton for punishment, I nodded.

He leaned down and captured my lips, kissing me slow, like we had all the time in the world. I was lost in the kiss—not to mention his minty breath and rock-hard chest—when someone whistled, yanking me back to reality. We were standing in the middle of campus in between classes and people were moving all around us.

I pulled out of the kiss.

“Thank you, Soph. I won’t let you down.”

I turned and began walking.

He jogged to keep up. “Come by the frat tonight?”

“Why?”

“I missed you.”

“I guess you should’ve called.”

He laughed, knowing I wasn’t letting that one slide. “Seriously. I wanna hang out.”

“Is that right?”

He smirked, and when he smirked at me like that, I knew, come hell or high water, I’d be there.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

I lightly tapped on the front door of Kappa Sigma. I’d never been there when there wasn’t loud music blaring from the windows and tons of people filling the rooms. But as I pushed open the front door, I found none of that. My footsteps creaked on the old wooden floor as I made my way into the house. A few guys played video games in the living room. But besides that, no one was around.

One of them glanced up from his game. “Who you looking for?”

“Chase.”

“Try the basement,” another said.

I walked to the basement door and made my way downstairs. Normally, bodies and spilled beer filled the dance floor. Now, it was just a big empty room.

Smack. Smack.

I looked around the basement and realized the sound was coming through an open door at the far end of the room that I’d never noticed before.

I moved toward it.

Smack. Smack.

I stepped into the open doorway and stilled.

Holy shit.

Chase, shirtless and sweaty, punched a punching bag that hung from the ceiling. He didn’t notice me right away, so I watched him annihilate the bag, his fists relentless.

I knew he was built. I’d been privy to a front-row, show-and-tell session in my bed Saturday night. But this display of hotness and power was something else entirely. The sweat gave his muscles definition I hadn’t noticed before. An X-rated vision of what I’d like to be doing with him pressed against me flashed through my mind.

“You gonna tell me what you’re thinking about?” Chase asked.

I shook off the vision to find him standing there with his arms crossed. My eyes drank him in. “I…um…”

Dimples pinched into the sides of his mouth deeper than I’d ever seen them.

“Do you do this often?” Stupid question.

“Uh huh.”

“So, you’re a boxer in your free time?”

He smiled. “No, but I’d be a damn good one.”

I walked into the room and straddled a nearby weight bench, awaiting more of the show. “Well, don’t let me stop you.”

He watched me settle onto the bench. “I didn’t know what time you were coming over. I can go get showered.”

“So soon?”

He stared at me, trying to figure out what I was getting at. Instead of beating the hell out of the bag some more, he walked over and straddled the weight bench so he faced me. “Hi.”

“You’re sweaty.”

“Uh huh.”

“I like you sweaty.”

He threw back his head, and a mix between a humorless laugh and a groan escaped him.

“What?”

“Do you really think you can say something like that to a guy when you’re sitting this close looking all hot and smelling all sweet?”

“Should I not have said it?” I asked, lifting my eyebrows.

“Oh, no. You should’ve. Just once we’re alone in my room.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine. His sweaty nose brushed mine, and instead of being turned off by the beads of sweat shifting to my skin, I scooted closer, tunneling my fingers into the back of his damp hair and deepening the kiss.

Chase pulled out of the kiss. “Aw, fuck, Soph. Let’s go up to my room.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet. He led me upstairs and left me in his room so he could shower.

I sat on the edge of his bed, playing on my phone—anything to pass the time before his return. The vision of him in that basement with those glistening muscles pounding away at the punching bag overwhelmed me. I’d never been so turned on by

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