The Junior (College Years 3)

Of course, she immediately scowls. “Saying that kind of thing is what’s annoying to me, Caleb.”

“I’m just speaking the truth and you know it.” I scratch my chest again, on purpose this time to see if her gaze trails my moving hand. Guess what?

It does.

See, here’s the thing. I know what’s up between us. I’m going to play it cool. We’re going to work together, and that’s nice. You need help, G? I’m here for you. Let’s ride together, so we’re stuck in a car alone for almost an hour one way, forced to make conversation. What a hardship.

I’m a good guy when it comes to Gracie. She just doesn’t realize it yet. I push, but never too hard. I know the moment we end up doing something, anything, I’ll bail on her. Or she’ll bail on me. We fall into a pattern every time we’re together, and everyone is aware of it. My friends warned me to stay away from her from the very beginning, and I know for a damn fact that hers tell her to stay away from me, too.

But we’re drawn to each other. Sexually attracted. Whatever you want to call it. It’s been happening since the first time we met. And while we might be in total denial and act like it’s not there, it is.

It’s undeniable.

She’s been checking me out since the moment she entered my bedroom. Not a lot of women see this bedroom either. It’s my sanctuary, and as Eli announced a few months ago, I don’t bring many bitches into it—direct quote.

If his girl heard him say that, she’d beat his ass, but that’s beside the point.

The point I’m trying to make is Gracie is attracted to me. That hasn’t changed. And I am attracted to her.

So what the hell is stopping us from doing something about it?

Our past behaviors. That cliché that old habits die hard fits when it comes to us.

“Whatever,” she says, exhaling loudly, reminding me that she’s still in my sanctuary and she’s still checking me out.

I’m tempted to flip the covers back and let her see me in my boxers, but she’d probably flip the fuck out and run out of the room screaming. I’m not going to chance it.

“Let’s not start anything that’s unnecessary,” I tell her, keeping my voice purposely calm. “I’m all for a truce. I know you are too. We can be civil toward each other. I don’t need to make every comment I say to you filled with sexual innuendo.”

“You sure about that? I didn’t think you were capable of not being a pervert,” she says, snarky as ever.

“Hey, where’d the truce go?” I lift my brows.

She blows out another breath, this time sounding frustrated—with herself. “Fine. You’re right. I’ll stop giving you shit if you stop giving me shit. Deal?”

“Deal.” I hold out my hand for her to shake.

She stares at it for a moment before she lifts her gaze to mine. “You want to shake on it?”

“What, you afraid to touch me?” I’m goading her. I can’t help it.

“No,” she spits out, rising to her feet. She stalks toward me, thrusting her hand out toward mine and I grab hold of it, giving her a firm shake. Keeping my grip on her hand for a few seconds too long.

Sparks ignite and start flying around us. Just from our clasping hands. She feels it too. I see it in the way her eyes widen the slightest bit and gooseflesh dots her chest. I slowly let go of her hand, keeping my fingers straight out so they slide across hers when she starts to pull away and she jerks her hand back as if I just pinched her.

“Uhh…” She clamps her lips shut and looks away.

Huh. Would you look at that. The unstoppable Gracie is at a loss for words.

“Deal,” I tell her, my voice extra soft, disguising the lethal edge.

Yeah. That was a deal all right. I think I just found a new project for the summer.

How long will it take to get Gracie in my bed?

Four

Gracie