Breaking Mr. Cane (Cane 2)

“Wow. This group seems very relaxing—like a breath of fresh air.”

“Oh, it is. Trust me. And it changes you. Believe it or not, I used to be this big, dumb jock who thought football was life.”

I cocked my brow and smirked, giving him a yeah, right look.

“What?” he laughed, hands in the air. “Okay, I might still be a bit of a jock who still thinks football is life, but I’m a jock who is much more aware of my surroundings. If someone is having a bad day, I can tell and I try to reach out to let them know there’s always a helping hand.” He paused for a moment, watching as I sipped my tea. “Like you…I noticed your slumped shoulders, your sad eyes—the hints the MPA coaches tell us to look out for in another athlete or student.”

I tried not to frown when he said that. “What do you mean by that?” I asked a little too softly.

“I could tell something was wrong. For one, you were walking alone and when I first spotted you, your head was hung low. You looked upset and kind of anxious.”

I wanted to smile and wave it off, but I couldn’t. There was a reason for that—a reason I refused to share with a guy I’d just met. “It was nothing, really. I’m just adjusting to this new life of mine. I’m miles away from my family. It’s scary, but refreshing all the same.”

“Where are you from?” he inquired.

“Decatur, Georgia. What about you?”

“Katy, Texas.”

“Oh, wow. Long way!”

“Yep.” He took a step backward. “I understand what you mean about it being scary and refreshing, especially when you have a family that loves you a lot.”

“Yeah. Exactly that.”

The song changed and one of the coaches announced that we’d be wrapping up and meeting again next week. They collected all of the plastic cups from us, several of the athletes chugging theirs down before adding to the stack. A couple students left the scene, Sophie Banks included, and since they were leaving, I decided to walk off too.

“Which building are you in?” Brody asked, catching up to me.

“Oh, umm, Providence Hall.”

“How’s your roommate?”

“She’s really cool. She plays softball as well. Outfielder.”

“Damn. You are a lucky one. Joining MPA on the first few days and having a cool roommate. No one’s ever that lucky as a freshman. Maybe I need to stick by your side, hope some of that lucky dust rubs off on me for the season.”

I fought a grin. He was flirting, that much was clear. He’d been flirting since the first question he asked over my shoulder. The funny thing was he didn’t suck at it, like most guys did. Brody Hawks was a smooth talker and very charming.

“Do you do this to all the freshmen girls you meet?” I asked, slowing my pace.

“Do what?” His brows dipped, like he was truly curious.

“Flirt with them? Make them feel cool and secure? Because that would be a good way to bag a girl, especially a freshman. See a new girl wandering around, assume she’s a freshman, and then try to add her to your collection.”

His head tipped back as he broke out in a laugh, and his throat was long and smooth and…attractive. How the hell could a throat be so attractive? Why was I so damn attracted to this guy?

“I mean, I apologize for the flirting, but it’s not every day I see a freshman that looks like you.”

I blushed. God, I hated blushing. I wished my hair was down so I could hide my face behind some of it. He noticed and his smile continued.

“That’s probably another one of the lines you use on the new girls on campus. Hey, we’re easy targets! I get it, man.”

“Would you stop?” He fought a grin, head shaking. “It’s really not like that, I swear. I mean, do I find you attractive? Yes. You got me there. But that isn’t the only reason I came to speak. You looked like you needed a friend…or maybe just an escape from what was going on inside your own head. I remember how tough it was when I first got here. I missed my family like crazy. I wanted to make new friends, find things to do that actually interested me. I’m just here as a helping hand.”

“Well, I appreciate that, Brody. It was really sweet of you.”

“Of course, but since you think I’m trying to make a score on you, maybe I should ask before we keep walking. Would you like me to walk you back to your side of campus?”

I giggled. “No, I should be okay from here, but thanks for the offer.”

“Cool. No pressure.” He threw his hands in the air again with a charming smile, a guilt-free gesture. “Maybe I’ll see you around campus then, and hopefully next week at the next MPA meet?”