Chapter Two
Alyssa
Spring of freshman year of college...
“Do you have any idea how badly I need coffee?” At this time of the morning, I’m barely coherent. A girl walking in the opposite direction knocks into me as we make our way through the throng of student traffic moving across campus. I bare my teeth, ready to snap. “Watch where you’re going!”
“Easy, tiger,” Mia soothes, latching onto my arm and towing me forward. “Unfortunately for you, we don’t have time for a pitstop.”
“Ugh.” I’m so blurry-eyed, I can barely see straight. I was up until the butt crack of dawn this morning working on a paper that is due for this class. If it had been any other instructor, I would have shown up during office hours and attempted to charm my way into a twenty-four-hour extension.
But with this guy?
No way. Professor Mendelson refuses to accept late work. Ever since I stepped foot on campus, I’ve heard horror stories about the man. And so far, I can say with absolute authority that they’re true. He’s already brought a few students to tears in front of the entire class. So, I do my best to fly under the radar where he’s concerned.
Plus, I’ve been spending a ton of extra time in the studio rehearsing a dance solo I choreographed for the annual showcase at the end of the semester. Between that and keeping up with my classes, I’m burning the candle at both ends.
“Hey, isn’t that Colton?”
Those four words are all it takes for me to blink out of the thoughts I’ve become mired in. My head jerks up so quickly that I nearly give myself whiplash as the haze clouding my eyes evaporates. “Where?”
Colton Montgomery sightings have become increasingly rare on campus. There are times when I have the sneaking suspicion that he’s deliberately avoiding me. Although, come on, that’s just crazy, right?
“Well,” Mia chuckles as we traipse along the cement pathway, “that certainly woke you up. Probably more than a straight shot of caffeine right to your veins.”
The girl isn’t wrong.
I kind of hate myself for the ridiculous infatuation I have with the blond football player. I’ve been crushing on him for three years. Deep down, I was secretly hoping there would be so many new guys at college that I would forget all about him.
That hasn’t turned out to be the case.
Sure, I’ve met a ton of people since I’ve been at Wesley. In classes, at parties, and during football games. I even broke down and let a friend talk me into a blind date with her cousin. That, by the way, turned out to be a fiasco. Not one single guy has been able to obliterate Colton from my mind.
How do you move on from someone who wants nothing to do with you? If there were some voodoo magic to make this yearning disappear, I’d conjure it up in a heartbeat.
But there isn’t. Which is exactly why I’m still lusting after the guy like a total loser.
What I need is a twelve-step program.
Like an addict, my gaze roves over the crowd before zeroing in on him like a heat-seeking missile. He’s a little taller and broader than everyone around him. His hair is cut short on the sides and left long on top so that it falls over his forehead. It’s a constant struggle to keep the golden strands out of his bright blue depths. I’ve been tempted on more than one occasion to reach out and do it for him.
That is if I could get close enough.
I narrow my eyes as hot licks of jealousy burst to life inside me. It’s not even nine o’clock in the morning and he’s already being mobbed by jersey chasers. The crowd that surrounds him has to be at least three-deep.
“I bet he’s slept with every girl on campus,” I grumble in irritation.
“Everyone but you,” my bestie oh-so-helpfully points out.
I shoot her a glare.
As if the reminder is necessary?
The one and only time we hooked up had been at a Beck Hollingsworth party. I thought for sure we’d go all the way. We’d been in the pool. The making out had turned decidedly hot and heavy. I’d taken off my top and panties in an effort to hasten things along. Don’t judge me—I’m a girl who goes after what she wants. Even though there had been more than a hundred people in attendance, the rowdy party had fallen away around us. Just when I thought we would seal the deal, Colton pulled the plug and left me high and dry.
Well, not so dry.
More like wet and frustrated.
I’ve heard many-a-story surrounding the sexual exploits of Colton Montgomery. Not a damn one of them ended with him walking away. It’s funny—in a not so amusing kind of way—that the one guy who has a reputation for being a manwhore won’t even look at me, much less have sex with me.