The Sophomore (College Years 2)

“They’re couple goals,” she says.

“So are Hayden and Tony,” I add.

“Right? He would do anything for her. He’s so good for her. They’re good for each other.” Gracie slowly shakes her head. “It feels like I will never find that.”

“You will,” I tell her firmly. “He’s out there, just waiting for you.”

“Really? Because I’m starting to think a guy like that doesn’t exist for me.” Her gaze goes to Caleb, as if she can’t help herself.

“You like him?” I ask.

“Not particularly,” she says with a sigh. “I find him attractive. I’m drawn to his pretty face and his fucked-up mouth. I bet he’s amazing in bed. Or wherever else he likes to have sex.”

“I had a huge crush on him in middle school. When he was in the eighth grade and I was in the seventh,” I admit.

Her eyes widen. “Really? Do tell.”

I shrug. “It’s like a rite of passage at my school for every girl to have a crush on Caleb Burke at some point in their life. He’s just so attractive and flirty. He always has been. He makes every girl feel like she matters, even though, deep down, he doesn’t really give a shit.”

“I don’t think he doesn’t give a shit,” Gracie says, actually defending him. “It’s more like he just really likes women. All sorts of them.”

Sounds familiar, is what I want to tell her. Gracie really likes men—all sorts of them. “He’ll be a hard man to tame.”

“Maybe he shouldn’t be tamed. Maybe he should run wild and free,” Gracie says, sounding thoughtful.

I think of Jackson. He’s a little wild and free himself. And if he really pursues the rock star life, is that something I want to deal with? It’s one thing to be one of his adoring fans. His good friend.

I’m pretty sure I’m about to step into the next level and become his actual girlfriend. How will I deal with those adoring fans? Can I handle them? Will I want to? And what if his career actually takes off? Will I end up getting left behind?

All things I really don’t want to focus on right now.

Long minutes later, I’m in the kitchen, munching from a bag of tortilla chips, when I feel someone approach me from behind. A very tall, broad someone, who slowly wraps his arms around my waist and presses his body to mine.

“Time’s up,” Jackson whispers in my ear. “It’s been an hour.”

“No way.” I’m still munching on the chips, shivering when he nuzzles his nose against my neck.

“It’s actually been over an hour. I got stuck in a conversation with Eli and Caleb about our game next week.” His lips move against my sensitive skin when he speaks. “I don’t give a shit about football.”

“You don’t?” I frown, settling my hands over his.

“Don’t really give a shit about the music either,” he adds, his teeth grazing the spot just beneath my ear.

“You’re lying.” I melt against him when he shifts his arms lower, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of my shirt, touching my bare skin.

“It’s true.” His mouth is at my ear once more, his husky voice making me throb between my thighs. “The only thing I care about right now is you.”

I slowly turn within his arms, so I can face him, my expression somber. The effects of the alcohol I consumed earlier have seemed to wear off. I am completely sober. “Do you really mean that?”

He grabs my hand, resting my palm against the center of his chest. I can feel his rapidly beating heart. “Feel that?”

I nod.

“That’s what you do to me.” His fingers encircle my wrist and he shifts my hand lower, to the front of his jeans. “Feel that?”

I curl my fingers around his erection, hoping no one is paying attention to us.

“You do that to me too. Now let’s go to my room,” he says, his expression, his tone so, so serious.