My staring must be a little too obvious. I raise my eyebrows and shake my head, declining the drink.
Some of the guys have alcohol during the season, but not me. I have too much at stake.
“You think Ava’s uptight?” I was thinking more like way too smart for a guy like me. Ava is brilliant. I heard she was studying Russian Literature or something fancy like that.
“People say she’s a snob. Never dates. Curtis asked her out and she said no. And he totally seems like her type.”
Curtis is our fraternity president and generally known as the smart one. We all have our roles to play, I suppose. Me? I’m the jock. Football means the goddamn world to me.
“You know,” I say. “Maybe Curtis isn’t her type after all. Maybe the wrong guy is asking her out.”
“So, why don’t you try?” Connor asks, before taking a swig of his beer. “You clearly have a thing for her.”
I shake my head. “I just got a lot on my mind. The timing probably isn’t right.”
Connor chuckles. “Dude, you go out with a different girl every weeknight. And now you don’t have time? I think you’re scared of being rejected by the sexy book nerd.”
I shrug him off, saying practice today was rough--and it was. Oak Ridge University football practice has been killer all week. The pressure is on. We have to win next week’s game. I may have just signed a contract with Seattle Seahawks to play after I graduate, but I feel more weight on my shoulders than I ever have in my life.
People may see me as a player; a shallow jock who likes to get laid, but I know I’m more than that. Hell, football hasn’t been about the love of the game in ages. It’s about making bank so I can help my mom and my siblings. The things you do for the ones you love, right?
Just then, Ava walks toward us with a tray of cocktails. My cock twitches and I wonder if she’d give a guy like me a chance. I’m about to say something when Connor steps in.
“Hey, Ava,” he says. “Andy wanted to know if you want to play Dance Dance Revolution with him.”
I lift my eyebrows, not believing he’s trying to be my wingman. Since when do I need a wingman?
Ava twists her pouty little lips. “Oh, yeah? Why isn’t Andy asking me himself then?”
I clear my throat. “Connor thinks he’s funny.”
“What’s the joke?” she asks, frowning. Shit, she thinks she’s the joke.
“He knows I can’t dance,” I say. “He’s trying to make me look like an idiot in front of everyone.”
She nods slowly and when a few students pass, taking cocktails from the tray, she smiles at them.
“Well, I don’t dance either,” she says. “So, it would have been a pass even if you had asked.”
Connor groans. “Aww, come on. Go in there and take Cadence out of her misery. Do you see her drunk-dancing? It’s worse than her drunk-dialing.”
Ava and I share a smile at that. Cadence does look pretty tragic.
“I’m honestly terrible,” Ava says. Cadence comes by and takes the tray of drinks from her, leaving her hands free. I can’t help but think how I’d like to wrap my hand around her own, claim her as mine.
Even though I have no business thinking about Ava like that. I can do hook-ups with other girls because we’re both in it for the fling. But Ava is not that kind of woman. She’s serious and I know she doesn’t sleep around. If she did, I’d have heard about it.
“Let’s make a bet,” I say, desperate to have a reason to spend more time with her.
“Really? What kind of bet?” she asks just as Lola walks past her, letting out an annoyed groaning.
“Ava,” Lola says. She’s the bossiest girl in the house and I stay clear of her whenever they host a party. “Thanks for the drinks, but girl, you left the kitchen as messy as your bedroom.”
“Sorry, I’ll clean up in a sec,” Ava says with a grimace. Then shrugging, she looks up at me. “Now you know my dirty little secret. I’m not exactly tidy. I’m the messiest member of this sorority.”
Connor laughs. “Dude, then you’ve met your match. Andy’s room is a cluster.”
“I call it organized chaos,” I say with a laugh. Surprised to find common ground on an unexpected topic. What else could I learn about this girl?
“So, the bet?” Ava asks, catching me off guard. I thought she’d look for the first opportunity to walk away. Yet, she’s still here.
“Right,” I say. “How about the loser has to clean the other person’s bedroom?”
“Really?” She lifts an eyebrow.
“Really.”
I stick out my hand for her to shake, and when she clasps mine, I feel a surge of electricity. I’m getting what I wanted, her hand in mine. Claiming her as my own. She just doesn’t know it yet.