For all I know, it’s someone from his classes and is looking for notes. No need to jump to—
“Oh, yeah. I did. Sorry, I’ve been pretty busy.”
—conclusions.
Okay. Not class related.
Still not going to look up. It’s not my business. None at all. Nope.
My gaze flickers upward. Damn it.
A tall, good-looking, hipster type wearing an unbuttoned flannel shirt stands there smiling down at Kole.
I growl. Wait … I growl? I clear my throat, and Kole’s eyes meet mine. “I, uh, made a mistake.” I scribble out the correct answer on my sheet and then wave my hand. “Carry on.”
“Are you free this weekend?” Hipster Boy asks.
I automatically answer for him but don’t take my eye off my paper. “We have a game at UConn.”
I can feel their stares burning into me, and I lift my head.
“Sorry. I’ll stop interrupting.”
“He’s right though,” Kole says. “Sorry, Tray.”
Of course his name is Tray. That’s a douche name. Like Chet. Or Brad.
“Since when are you on the hockey team?”
“Since I lost a bet with my dad, and he forced me to be equipment manager this year.”
Chet, Tray, what-the-fuck-ever his name is chuckles. “Damn. When do you get back? Sunday night?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Kole nod.
Hipster Boy taps the table. “Awesome. I’ll text you, and we can hang out.” He doesn’t even give Kole a chance to answer him before he leaves with a smarmy grin.
Apparently, it’s happening. Kole’s got a date.
And I’m totally cool with it. One hundred percent. Even if we had plans to fuck or whatever. It’s sex. Only sex. It never means anything.
Never.
Then why do I want to tell Kole he can’t go out with anyone else?
And where the hell is that thought coming from?
“Sorry about that,” Kole says to me.
“You can go out with whoever you want.” As long as their name starts with A and ends in sher.
Ugh, shut up, brain.
“I’m so not going out with him.”
Good.
I can’t help the smile. “Oh?”
“Yeah. He’s not my type.”
“Apparently I’m not your type either, but clearly I do it for you.”
“Eh. He’s not boyfriend material. I’m sure he’d be fun for a few hours, but I already have a fuck buddy.” He nudges me with his elbow. “I’ve never had one of those before, but I figure unless someone comes along with actual potential, I can just use you for sex.”
Right. Sex. “Let’s get started, then.” I slide my paper over to him. “The last one is probably wrong because I was distracted, but I only need eighty percent, right?”
He checks my work. “Looks like you’ve earned yourself a reward.”
Taking my hand, Kole pulls me out of my seat. I try to pack up my stuff, but he says, “Leave it,” and drags me toward the back of the library.
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere I can follow through.”
“In the library?”
He turns. “Scared of getting caught?”
“No skin off my nose if we did.” I definitely wouldn’t mind that Tray guy finding us, but I keep that to myself.
Kole grips my shirt and pulls me down one of the aisles in between dusty books. “It’s so much hotter when risk is involved.”
“Oh no. I’ve become a bad influence on you.”
“Are you sure about that? You have no idea what I got up to before we met.” He pushes me up against the wall while my mind drifts to all the possible dirty things Kole could be into.
“Nah, I don’t buy it. You’re all … innocent.”
Kole steps closer. “Need I remind you that I jerked you off in the locker room where anyone, including my dad, could catch us?”
“Mm, how could I forget? Maybe you’re the bad influence here.”
“I call bullshit on that too. It’s obvious you’ve slept around. Of course, I thought it was with only women at first, but you exude sex.”
I’m already hard behind my jeans, and I grip Kole’s hips and bring him against me so I have something to grind against.
“My freshman and sophomore years basically consisted of me making up for lost time,” Kole says.
“Lost time?”
“I was … not good-looking in high school. Think braces, acne, and then of course, my giant reading glasses I had to wear during class. No one wanted to date me.”
“Your glasses are sexy as fuck.”
“The face underneath them wasn’t.”
I gently push him off me so I can look him in the eye when I say, “I don’t believe it. You’re all …” I screw up my face. “I was going to say beautiful, but—”
“Eww, gag.”
I laugh. “Right? But I mean, you’re drop-dead gorgeous.”
“I am now.”
“Wow. And you’re so modest about it too.”
“Once the acne cleared up and the braces came off, it was easier to blend into society as one of the more fortunate-looking people. I think sleeping around made me feel validated in a way. It’s why I did a lot of it.”