Campus Player
What were we working on again?
Ugh. I’m like a walking hormone.
“You need to focus so we can get through this,” I grumble, ignoring his question. We’ve been at it for almost an hour and only have a couple more problems to plow through. Then we can get out of here. Maybe go back to my place. If Sydney isn’t home, I can try to—
“Trust me,” his voice drops so low that it strums something deep inside me, “I’m focused.” The calloused pads of his fingers continue to dance across my inner thigh, inching closer to the vee between my legs. “Laser-focused.”
There shouldn’t be anything sexy about the slide of rough skin against mine, but damn if there isn’t. These running shorts were a bad idea. I should have covered myself from head to toe.
At this rate, Rowan will end up flunking statistics.
“Unfortunately, that laser focus isn’t where it belongs,” I point to the book, “on stats.”
“Nope.” He leans so close that his warm breath feathers over the outer shell of my ear. Another delicate shiver works its way down my spine. “At the moment, there’s something else on my mind.”
When his fingers brush against my core, I shift in my seat before cautiously glancing around. We’re certainly not alone. Students surround us as they study at nearby tables. Apparently, everyone and their grandmother decided they needed to work at the library this evening. The place is surprisingly packed for a Monday night. When we arrived on the second floor, people were already camped out at our usual table.
“Rowan,” I mutter, simultaneously loving and hating the way he drives me crazy.
“We’ve plowed through most of the assignment. We deserve a break.” He waggles his brows. “I’m sure we could find a dark corner to make out in.”
I hate to admit how tempting the offer is. It’s reluctantly that I pull away until there’s a safe distance between us. “You shouldn’t touch me like that.” I clear my throat and attempt to stomp out the arousal that has flared to life between my legs. “There are too many people watching us.”
“Does it really matter?” He toys with my fingers under the table where they’re partially hidden.
My teeth sink into my lower lip.
We’ve been sneaking around for a week, stealing time together when no one is looking. Sydney remains blissfully unaware of our relationship. Which means that Rowan and I can only spend time together at my place when she’s at class or with Ethan. Luckily, they’re on again this week, so it’s worked out perfectly. We can’t go to the house Rowan rents off-campus because he lives with a bunch of football players.
It's only been within the last couple of days that the rumors Justin spread around campus have started to die down. The last thing I want is to resurrect them again. Especially, when the gossip would be true.
“I need a little more time.” Guilt slices through me as I drop my voice to a whisper. “That’s all.”
Emotion flares to life in Rowan’s eyes, and for a moment, I steel myself for an argument. I can’t blame him for wanting our relationship out in the open. It’s not like I’m embarrassed to be with him. It’s more the fact that I’m the head coach’s daughter. And these rumors about me screwing the football team always seem to pop up at the most inopportune times. I don’t want people to think that. Rowan doesn’t get to fuck me as some kind of bonus for being the star player. Even the thought makes me sick to my stomach.
“Fine.” As the tension drains from him, his broad shoulders loosen. “I’ve waited this long; it won’t kill me to wait a little longer.”
A burst of relief explodes inside me. I hate that I’m doing this to him, but I’m not ready to out our relationship yet. “Thank you.”
He shrugs as a glimmer of mischief leaps into his eyes. “I’ll let you make it up to me later.”
My brows rise with interest as a smile simmers around the edges of my lips. That’s one thing I like about Rowan—he’s never bent out of shape for long. It’s like a quickly passing summer storm. There and gone before you know it. “And how exactly will I do that?”
“I’m sure you’ll—”
“Hi, Rowan!”
A chorus of soft female voices has me jerking away. I grit my teeth, tired of this happening. We can’t go anywhere without him being bombarded by groupies.
My gaze flies from Rowan to the trio of girls who hover next to us. Two are brunettes, and one is blond. All three are soft and curvy. The dark-haired girls look suspiciously similar. Maybe they’re twins. Although, it’s difficult to tell because they’re all wearing matching T-shirts with sorority letters stamped across their oversized chests and tiny white shorts. Now that I’m scrutinizing them more closely, I realize their hair and makeup look the same. As if there’s a strict dress code that needs to be adhered to, or they’ll get kicked out of their exclusive club.