walked into the living room. “Do you live in the dorms?”
She shook her head. “I rent a room in a house off campus.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t it be easier to live on campus?”
“Sure, but … I can’t afford that.”
Her answer confused him. He wouldn’t want to live in the cramped, crowded dorms, but he thought living on campus was the cheaper alternative to off-campus housing … yet she couldn’t even afford that.
“Would you like something to drink? I’ve got wine, beer, hard lemonade?”
“Lemonade, thanks.”
He walked into the kitchen and retrieved a can of hard lemonade from the fridge, and poured it into a glass with ice, then grabbed a beer for himself. When he walked back into the living room, she was sitting on the couch with her chemistry textbook lying on the table.
She really had come over to study.
She took the drink he offered and sipped it, then frowned and pushed it aside as she opened her book.
For the next two hours, he went over the chapters with her, reviewing and querying her to test her knowledge. The whole time he was aware of her closeness … her warmth … the sweet vanilla scent of her hair and the curve of her body.
“Let’s take a break,” he said.
“But we still have another chapter to go over.”
“I know. We can do that after.” He stood up and walked to the kitchen, then returned with another drink for each of them.
He set her lemonade in front of her, then sat down again.
“There’s a party after the exam tomorrow. Would you like to go with me?”
“I’m not much for parties.”
“But it’s your last exam. You want to celebrate, don’t you?”
She frowned. “I don’t get it. Why are you asking me? Why did you even start talking to me today?”
A barrier had gone up and he feared he’d lose his chance with her.
He smiled. “Why are you so surprised that I want to go out with you?”
She stared at her glass. “I’m not like the girls you usually go out with.”
“Maybe that’s part of the attraction.”
And he was attracted to her. Much to his surprise. While they’d been studying, whenever he explained something in the textbook, she’d leaned in closer to see the page and every brush of her thigh against his sent heat to his groin. Whenever she’d stroked her hair behind her ear, he’d wanted to brush his fingers through the soft strands … to feel her soft skin under his fingertips.
Her gaze locked on his, her green eyes serious.
“Are you slumming it with me? Getting some kind of strange kick from asking out the weird chick?”
A prickle of anxiety emanated from her and he wanted to quell her unease.
“You’re different, that’s true, but that’s a good thing.” He sent her his most disarming smile. “I really like you.”
The barrier seemed to fade and she looked uncertain.
Vulnerable.
He leaned forward and her eyes widened, but he could see the look of longing in them. This attraction he felt for her seemed to be mutual.
He closed the distance and brushed his lips against hers. Instead of pulling away, she leaned into the kiss. Then her mouth moved on his and heat blasted through him. Her tongue brushed against his lips and he opened them, drawing it into his mouth. Intoxicated by the sweetness of her.
He wrapped his arms around her and drew her tight to his body. Her soft breasts crushed against him and—God help him—he could feel her nipples harden through her shirt. His hand glided up her side, then he cupped her soft breast.
She stiffened and jolted back, sucking in a breath. She shook her head, looking panic-stricken.
“No, I can’t…” She was on her feet and racing for the door.
He stood up and strode after her, scooping up her backpack on the way.
She reached the entrance and grabbed the doorknob, but he grasped her arm before she could open the door.
“Wait. Let’s talk…”
Her head jerked around and she stared up at him, her eyes wide with … damn, was that fear?
She backed against the door as if seeking escape.
“No, I … need to go home.”
“River, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything. You seemed to be enjoying the kiss and—”
“No!” she flared. “I didn’t want you to do that. It’s not my fault.”
“River…” He said her name in a calm, soothing voice as he drew her back from the door. This wasn’t a conversation for the neighbors. “I’m not saying it was your fault. I just misread the situation. I shouldn’t