hips. His hips are... square and sharp and delectable. I know from seeing him in soccer shorts that behind them, there’s a nice, taut ass. Underneath his slacks are muscled thighs. And in between his legs... At games, when he runs...
I swallow and tug my gaze up to his face. His blue eyes demand my attention first. They’re gorgeous—the color of deep ocean water. Looking at me, they seem to see everything; they’re the eyes of a demigod, peering into my soul. I take in the rest of his face: the faintly feline shape of his high cheekbones; his heavenly lips, which beg to be bitten; the smooth line of his jaw; his healthy tan. He definitely looks angelic. Like an angel who would rip your panties with the strength of his immortal hands.
Oh, God.
My eyes flit up again, needing to get away from that face of his, and run into his wavy-messy blond hair.
I grit my teeth and step away.
His eyes, on mine, are shrewd. They track me as I move. My pulse quickens—and quickens more, and What the hell is wrong with you Cleo!?
I lift my bag up my shoulder and try to make my face like Mandy, a sophomore Tri Gam who is the most cliché sorority girl I’ve ever known: wide-eyed and wondering, just an innocent girl startled by Kellan’s male antics. He sneaked into the room when I wasn’t paying attention! He flipped the light switch and I was like OMGz!
But did he sneak in? I didn’t hear the door open or close. Was he in here the whole time?
My pulse kicks up a notch.
He seems too close. I take another step back. Then I glare at him for good measure.
You’re doing nothing wrong, Cleo! You’re a liberator. Fight big pharma... Weed is medicine! A more relaxed student population is good for everyone! Rah rah rah!
I wrap my fingers around the thin straps of my bag and give him skeptical frown. What the hell is he doing in here?
“Were you spying on me?” I look him over once more, this time focusing more on his clothes than his delectable body. The slacks look tailor-made. The pink dress shirt is definitely straining across his shoulders.
As if he can read my lustful thoughts and wants to taunt me, he steps closer. His gaze hardens. Another step, and I can see the sexy stubble on his face. A third step, and he’s close enough for me to smell his cinnamony breath. He folds his arms over his chest and breaks the silence with a voice like low thunder. “I think a better question is, what are you doing in here, Miss Whatley?”
I blink a few times, mostly because that voice is seriously panty-melting. No need for him to know I think so, though, so I toss my long, brown hair over my shoulder and fix him with a perfectly peeved stare. “What does it look like? I was taking a break in here, minding my own business and you popped up! Were you spying on me? Cause that’s creepy.”
“Minding your business, huh?” He tucks his lips down into a scowly, frowny, judgy look. He arches his brows. “Mind if I take a look in that bag?”
My heart forgets its rhythm. “What?” I swallow. “Is that a joke?”
He shakes his head. “No joke, Cleo.”
I take a step back and try to think fast. To look outraged. To treat him like the creep he clearly is. “Of course I’m not letting you look in my purse.” I shift my shoulder so the purse is more behind me. “I can’t believe you would even ask.”
I look him up and down, hoping to find him lacking in some way—but he’s flawless. Long legs with strong thighs evident through the fabric of his pants, abs so flat I could bounce a penny off them; shoulders that seem three times as wide as mine. And his face. I could look at it all day. Scratch that, I could glare at it all day.
“This whole thing is totally creeping me out, Walsh.”
His face is tight and serious. His voice is a menacing purr. “There’s a reason that I’m asking, Whatley.”
“What’s that?” I hold my head up high and pull out a look I used a lot in high school: the you-can-talk-shit-about-me-but-I-don’t-care-because-I’m-better-than-you special. Behind the look, my head is spinning. I watch his lips move, focusing more on them than on his words.
“I’m asking, Cleo, because I was told you were dealing drugs on campus.”