“Just to let you know, though, I’m gonna kick your ass at karaoke.”
A smile comes across his lips as his eyes close and he says, “I accept that challenge.”
Grinning, I lay my head on his chest and then close my eyes. Within his warmth, it doesn’t take long until I’m out like a light.
Walking with Jude Sinclair across the quad with our hands locked has people stopping and whispering. It’s bothersome as hell, but then I glance up at him and think, who the hell cares? Not only do I get to hold his hand, I just had the most unbelievable nap wrapped in the warmth of his gorgeous arms. I feel so refreshed, and I have him to thank for that. Usually it takes me a while to fall asleep in the middle of the day, but with Jude, it was instant. I’m not sure what that means, but it has to be good.
“So, what are you doing next Saturday night? I hope you don’t have to work.”
“Why, what’s going on?”
“We have our annual Latin night at the frat house. Cesar’s mom makes rice, beans, and tacos, and we drink margaritas. It’s a blast,” he says then he smacks himself in the head. “What am I doing? Of course you’ll be there. We hire you guys to come and do a cute little Latin dance.”
“What? We dance for y’all?”
“Yeah, for the whole party. It’s fun. You’ll have a blast.”
Okay, first, I need to make sure I have that off. Ms. Prissy
will probably murder me, but oh well. And second, there is no way in hell I’m doing one of those 1999 videos for the Bellevue hockey team party. No fucking way. “I’m not dancing. I’ll come, but I’m not dancing if we’re doing those crappy-ass dances. I bet they’ll do the Macarena. No way in hell.”
He laughs. “They did that last year.”
“Of course they did. Fucking hell, no way. I’m saying something.”
“Good, get it done, baby. Do something supersexy. Shake that ass for me.”
He winks and I laugh as he wraps his arms around my shoulders, pulling me in close. He then asks, “So you’ll be my date, right?”
“Date? Hmm, let’s see if my schedule is clear.”
He stops, glaring at me, and I can’t hold in my laughter, especially when he starts tickling me relentlessly. When I fall to the ground, he falls on top of me, tickling and kissing me as I shriek and giggle. Settling between my thighs, his eyes meet mine and something inside me shifts.
I superlike this guy.
“Be my date,” he demands, moving his hand up my cheek and into my hair.
“Don’t tell me what to do,” I say back and he smiles.
“Please be my date?”
As I wrap my leg around his hip, his eyes fall shut from how close I allowed him to get. Moving my thumb along his bottom lip, I whisper, “You know by then our fourteen days will be up.”
He nips at my thumb as his eyes lock with mine. “So you’ll be my girlfriend?”
My heart completely comes out of my chest at that point, and it takes everything out of me to hold in my smile as I shrug. “If you ask nicely, maybe.”
He nods, and then hops up, and I miss his warmth immediately as he reaches down to help me up. “Good, then you’ll have to go since boyfriends and girlfriends do everything together.”
I don’t move when he starts to walk. Mulling his words over, I ask, “So what you’re saying is that you’re not going to be all romantic and ask me sweetly to be your date to Latin night?”
He flashes me a grin and says, “Of course I am, when I’m good and ready. Don’t rush me, woman.”
He wraps his arm across my shoulder, and we continue toward the rink. When we’re almost there, I look up at him and ask, “So you think at the end of our fourteen days, you’ll want to be my boyfriend?”
He glances at me and says, “If I could ask you now to be my girlfriend and know you’d say yes without question, I would.”
His eyes are so tender and full of admiration for me. I’ve never felt so gorgeous in my life than I do now under his gaze in a ratty pair of sweats and a tank. My hair looks like a bird’s nest, but it doesn’t matter with his eyes on me. As much as I want to enjoy what he just said, something bothers me about his statement.