Schooling the Jock (Nerds Vs Jocks #1) - - Eli Easton Page 0,16

to deserve it?

Jax pointed out that I didn’t know anything about Jesse academically. And that was true. But…damn it. I didn’t want to have to see Jesse’s stupidly handsome, stuck-up face at my Quiz Bowl meetings. Or at meets. Or in the car going to meets. Or anywhere in my general proximity, really.

It wasn’t something he’d said to me. Because other than in the dean’s office, I’d never heard him speak. He just had this I’m-better-than-you vibe like he was too good to deign to acknowledge you. He looked at the world through slightly squinted eyes like it was all bullshit. And that shouldn’t piss me off. I mean, I didn’t even know the guy, so why should I care if he was a conceited prick? Only he was so beautiful that I couldn’t help but care. And that was annoying.

If there was one guy I’d ever seen in my life I thought was perfect, it was Jesse Knox. He wasn’t a massive ‘roid boy like some of the football players. Like Bubba, actually. Jesse was blessed with good genes—maybe six foot three, broad shoulders, slim waist, long, long legs, bubble butt. He was muscular without being muscle-bound. Square jawline, classic features, soft pink mouth, thick dirty-blond hair with lighter and darker streaks that looked totally natural. My brain told me he was a jerk, but my hormones didn’t agree.

My assessment of him as stuck up wasn’t just my opinion. Everyone said that. I’d once overheard two girls standing behind me in line at the Coffee Shack complain about how Jesse thought he was too good for the girls on campus.

But besides all that, he was a Badgers running back. How smart could he be?

When I got down to the living room, Jesse and a stranger with dark hair—that had to be PJ—were in the living room along with all our Quiz Bowl guys. Jesse had his usual brick-wall expression on, and being too good for us, he was studying his phone.

I glanced at my own phone to see the time. Two minutes after the 7 p.m. start time. I forced a smile. “Hey! Looks like everyone’s here. Thanks for being on time.”

Jesse didn’t even glance up. PJ folded his arms over his chest and stared at me like he was waiting for me to pull a rabbit out of my ass.

“I’m Dobbs,” I addressed the new guys. “The Quiz Bowl team captain. Why don’t you introduce yourselves to the team?”

Jesse glanced up at me briefly, then at PJ.

PJ spoke up. “PJ Roark. From Alpha Lambda Alpha, man. The best house on campus.” He grinned.

If this little shit thought he could get my goat, he had a lot to learn. “Have you ever played Quiz Bowl before, PJ?” I asked.

He made a face. “That would be no.” He made it sound like he was saying he’d never stuck his finger in a light socket.

“So why’d the A-ho—I mean, the ALAs assign you to us?”

He shrugged. “I volunteered. Funny how that works. Through the goodness of my heart, naturally.” He sounded so smug, I wanted to make a finger-down-my-throat gesture. I refrained.

Patience, Dobbs. Patience.

“Well. Good, I guess. And what are your areas of expertise?”

He looked at me blankly.

“Quiz Bowl questions cover a wide range of topics. Like current events, history, literature, math, psychology, philosophy…”

PJ twitched his nose. “I’m studying accounting. My dad’s an accountant, and he makes bank.” He said that in a loving tone.

I narrowed my eyes. “Accounting. Have you studied economics more broadly? For example, the imposition of quotas and tariffs is an example of government trying to protect domestic industries from what?”

PJ frowned and hesitated. “Well, obviously, I haven’t studied for Quiz Bowl yet. I just got here!”

I rubbed my temple. “Right. Fine. Moving on. Uh, Jesse, want to introduce yourself?”

Jesse had still been looking at his phone as if we weren’t having a goddamn meeting. I would have yelled at him to put it away if he’d been one of my guys, but I didn’t know how to react with him. He made me feel like an idiot before I even opened my mouth.

Jesse put the phone in the side pocket of his sweatshirt. “Hey. I’m Jesse Knox.”

We all waited. But he didn’t say anything more.

Be nice. I told myself. Be a freaking saint.

“Okay. Welcome to Quiz Bowl, Jesse. So, how’d your house rope you into this?” I tried to joke. It fell flat.

He met my gaze for a nanosecond before looking away at the wall. “I’m