Campus Flirt (The Campus)

But this girl doesn’t seem to know who the hell we are. Or, if she does, she gives zero shits.

Undeterred by her lack of hospitality, Asher flashes his most charming smile. It’s one that has sent hundreds of girls falling onto their backs before spreading their legs wide. If he has a superpower, that would be it. And he enjoys flexing it around campus with regularity. Especially if there’s a hot girl in the vicinity.

My gaze bounces back to the female in question—the one who holds our dining options in her slender hands—to assess its impact.

Nada.

Hmmm. Well, that’s certainly interesting.

It seems as if this girl is also in possession of a superpower. And that would be total immunity to Asher’s charms.

Not only is she not impressed, but by the way the corners of her lips have wilted, she’s pissed off that he even gave it the old college try.

I’m about to intervene when Crosby elbows me in my side none too gently. When I flick my gaze to him, he nods toward the packed dining area.

“Hey, isn’t that Sasha?”

Doubtful. I texted her thirty minutes ago to see if she was interested in grabbing dinner and she responded that she was busy. So, no...I don’t think—

My brows snap together when my gaze lands on her.

What the hell?

Did she seriously blow me off tonight?

I’m so focused on my best friend that it takes another moment to realize she’s not alone at the table.

Before I can fully wrap my mind around that fact, Crosby cuts into my thoughts. “What’s she doing with Ryder McAdams?”

Because yeah, that’s exactly who she’s with.

Damn it. And I know who’s to blame for this.

The last thing Sasha needs is to get tangled up with a player. I don’t realize that I’m on the move until I pull up to her booth and drop down on the seat next to her. My hip bumps into hers, nudging her over.

Eyes widening, she gasps, “Easton, what are you doing here?”

What am I doing here?

What am I doing here?

That’s hilarious. I was just about to ask the same question. Sitting this close to her, it’s impossible not to notice the cerulean color of her eyes. They’re almost the exact shade of the Pacific Ocean. It’s not like I didn’t realize this before, but tonight they look bigger.

Brighter.

Maybe it’s the dark shadow on her eyelids that makes them pop.

Wait a minute...

Since when does she wear makeup?

Or style her hair?

It’s not that she doesn’t always look nice, but Sasha plays soccer and spends a lot of time with her thick hair pulled back into a ponytail. She’s never been one of those girls who constantly has a full face of makeup or her hair perfectly styled. I’ll admit that I enjoy fucking those chicks, but they aren’t the kind I want to eventually settle down with.

“Easton?”

It takes a moment to blink out of the strange thoughts that are tangling around me like jungle vines. “I could ask you the same thing.”

Instead of giving me an answer, she rakes her teeth across the plumpness of her lower lip.

My gaze drops to the movement and a punch of need hits me full force, nearly knocking the breath from my lungs.

What the actual fuck?

It takes a moment to stomp out the arousal—

No—not arousal. It’s protectiveness surging through me. Sasha has always been my best friend. It’s for that very reason that I don’t want to see her get wrapped up with Ryder. All he’ll do is break her heart, and I’ll be damned if I sit idly by and allow that to happen.

All of the noise and commotion surrounding us fades to the background as our gazes stay locked. I have no idea what to make of the peculiar energy crackling in the air between us. I’ve never experienced anything like it.

It’s only when she blinks and glances across the table at the hockey player watching us with growing interest that I plummet back to Earth with a painful thud. The slow smirk curling around the corners of his lips instantly raises my hackles.

Sasha shifts before carefully inching away. Every centimeter of distance between us feels like a mile.

I don’t like it.

It takes all of my willpower to stop myself from reaching out and dragging her closer.

Her hand flutters nervously as she gestures to the guy parked across from us. “Ryder asked if I wanted to go out for dinner.”

When I continue to give him a well-honed death stare, the asshole actually has the audacity to grin as if this is some kind of game.

“Nice of you to crash our date, Clark. Why don’t you take a load off and join us?”

Ignoring the sarcasm, I ground out between clenched teeth, “This isn’t a date.”

His gaze flickers to Sasha. “Sure, it is. Right, sweetheart?”

I throw my arm around her shoulders and haul her close just so he doesn’t get any more delusional ideas. Although, by the looks of him, he’s already got them.