King of Campus
Clapping his hands together, everyone’s eyes instantly fall on Eric. “Alright, everybody, time to get to work!”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Someone’s looking good out there on the football field… All I have to say is that Ivy Kaster is one hell of a lucky girl. KingOfCampus.com
Roan
We’re walking towards the locker room after a grueling two hour practice when Dylan unsnaps the strap of his helmet before lifting it from his head. Then, like a goddamn dog, the asshole shakes out his wet hair. Because I’ve already taken my helmet off, his sweat hits me like a spray of bullets.
Talk about fucking gross.
With a curled upper lip, I give him a good shove. “Dude, that’s disgusting. Get the fuck away from me!”
The asswipe actually starts chuckling. “That’s man sweat. You wouldn’t know anything about that. You mostly just stand around looking pretty.”
I can’t help but snort. “Yeah, that sounds exactly like me. Once again, you’ve nailed it right on the head.”
Smirking, he looks me up and down. “You sure you shouldn’t be playing quarterback?”
I give him the stink eye in return. “Fuck you, dude.”
A wide smile spreads across his face. “Sorry, you’re not really my type. You’re a little too meaty for my tastes. I like a slimmer build.”
Dropping my shoulder, I ram into him from the side. The impact sends him stumbling a couple of paces. Knowing he got to me, he starts laughing. Dylan can be a real dick sometimes. “No wonder Lexie cut you loose.”
I’m expecting retaliation because my verbal jab is seriously below the belt and I damn well know it. Instead he just continues grinning like he’s not bothered in the least by what I’ve just said. “Didn’t I tell you we’re back together?”
I glare before muttering, “She must be out of her fucking mind.”
“Yep, that’s exactly what she said- that she was out of her fucking mind without me.” He adds a little more swagger to his step.
I can only roll my eyes. Yeah… I’m sure that’s exactly how it went down. More like Dylan was crawling on his hands and knees, begging her to take him back. If anyone has been out of their mind, it’s that guy. Talk about mopey... “I’m glad you got your shit settled.”
Sobering, he agrees, “Yeah, being without her was driving me bat shit crazy.”
He’s not kidding either. I snort. “What are you talking about? You’re always bat shit crazy. Don’t blame it on Lexie breaking you’re heart.”
Dylan looks just about ready to retaliate when someone shouts my name.
“Roan King?”
It’s not difficult finding who the voice belongs to. There are people dotting the stands watching practice but this guy is leaning against the cement wall of the tunnel that leads inside to the locker rooms. As I hold his stare, it occurs to me that he looks vaguely familiar but I can’t place where I know him from. Which honestly, isn’t all that unusual. People are constantly talking to me or introducing themselves. I meet hundreds of people a week.
Not really in the mood to shoot the shit with some dude after the punishing two hour practice coach just put us through, I say, “Yeah, that’s me.”
As his eyes continue holding mine, I suddenly get the feeling that he’s not here because he’s a fan. Nor has he shown up to yap at me about the Bulldogs or the outstanding season we’re in the midst of. “You have a minute to talk?”
My gaze slides to Dylan, who promptly rolls his eyes before picking up his pace and disappearing inside the tunnel. “Catch you later, man,” he hollers over his shoulder.
Running my fingers through my drenched hair, the guy lifts himself from the wall before moving towards me. Finally he sticks out his hand. I’m still sweaty and kind of dirty. So I wipe my palm on my white pants before reaching to shake his.
“Eric Wexler, I’m one of Ivy’s professors.”
That’s when recognition hits me. I give him just a bit of a chin nod. “Yeah, right. You teach dance.” I shift my helmet from one hand to the other wondering what the hell this guy is doing here on the football field.
Even though he smiles, it’s tight as if he doesn’t really want to be here talking to me. Which makes two of us, I guess. I’m sweaty and tired. I just want to hit the showers, shovel some food into my mouth, study for a couple of hours, and then curl up with Ivy for the night. I need a little one on one time with my girl. I almost snort because I seriously love the way that sounds. Who would have ever thought I’d enjoy being tied down?