Jocking Jameson (Face-Off Legacy/Campus Kings 4)

“Yum.” Shannon licks her lips. “Smells so good in here.”

I place my hand on her shoulder and guide her toward the line forming in front of the counter. “I bet you’re used to this, working at the bakery.”

“Yeah, I love working at Rizzo’s. Mrs. R lets me make anything I want.”

Shannon works part-time at an Italian bakery in South Philly. She can cook her ass off. A few times I’ve run into her on campus, and she let me taste some of the cookies and cakes she brought home with her.

“If you’re so good at baking, then how come you didn’t go to cooking school instead?”

It would’ve been a lot cheaper than paying the hefty tuition at Strickland University.

She shrugs, staring up at the menu board posted on the wall behind the counter. “I don’t know. I thought about it. But my real dream is to own a bakery. I figured I should learn how to run a business first.”

“The food industry has the highest turnover rate. Most of those businesses fail.” She frowns, and now I feel like shit for telling her the truth. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be such a downer. It’s just that I read—”

She presses her index finger to my lips to silence me. “Shhh… you think too much, Jamie.”

I clutch her hand, rubbing my thumb along her soft skin, and she slowly removes her finger from my mouth. Our eyes meet, the fire behind her green irises blazing. She has that look, the one my father mentioned at the conference over the summer, and it scares the shit out of me.

An awkward beat passes between us. She’s right about me overthinking. My brain does most of the talking for me. Well, technically, it does all of the talking for me if you want to get scientific. Oh my God, what’s wrong with me? I really do need to get out of my head. I live there so often, it’s hard to reel it back.

After I order for us and we take a seat by the window, I peel back the paper covering my breakfast sandwich while watching Shannon as she sips her cappuccino. She’s gorgeous, and the more I stare at her, I wonder why I waited this long to get closer to her. No one has ever made me feel this… comfortable. Around Shannon, I can be myself. I never have to hide from her. The walls I resurrected around others come down when I’m with her. And that scares me.

Shannon picks at a chocolate muffin, stuffing bits into her mouth. She stares out the window to my right, her eyes so big and bright they illuminate her face.

“Remind me to grab a scone for Killian before we leave,” I say.

Her eyes find mine, a smile crossing her lips. “He’ll haunt me if I forget.” She chuckles, taking another sip from the mug. “Killian sits next to me in my Financial Management class. He reminds me so much of my little brother who’s always annoying me.”

“He probably likes you,” I confess. “Guys do stupid shit when they like girls.”

She rolls her eyes. “Ugh, please don’t say that. I like Killian but not in that way.”

“How come I’ve never seen you with anyone on campus?”

Shannon gives me a confused look. “I’m with you right now. On campus.”

I laugh it off. “You know what I mean. With a guy.”

“Oh.” She tips the mug to her lips to avoid my question. “Umm…”

“You don’t have to answer if it’s personal.”

She shakes her head. “No, it’s okay. I don’t know. I just never really connected with anyone at this school. I don’t have a lot in common with people who have enough money to buy every house on the block where I live.”

“What about me?”

She chuckles, reaching across the table to cover my hand with hers. “You’re different, Jamie. No one at Strick U is like you.”

“I hope that’s a good thing.”

She squeezes my hand, her long nails painted a dark shade of pink sliding along my skin. “It’s a very good thing. Some of the students here are so… vapid.”

I laugh. “Interesting word choice.”

Shannon shrugs, holding up her hands with a cute smile tugging at her plump lips that I can’t stop thinking about. “I don’t know how else to describe some of these people. It’s like they have so much money they think the money can talk for them and that they don’t have to offer anything of any value. But you’re not like them. I’m never bored when I’m with you.”

I wink. “Good to know. At least I’m not vapid.”

She laughs, moving her hand back to the other side of the table, and I already miss her warmth.

“Want to know something that’s completely ridiculous?” she asks. I lean forward, holding her gaze, and she continues, “I have to dance on a bar this weekend for money.”