From an early age, I watched the way my dad would charm people, making eye contact, always shaking hands, giving people pats on the back when he passed by them. Small gestures like that made people feel he was invested in them. It was amazing what a little contact could do, and how people responded to it. If you gave them your attention and remembered small details they mentioned, people associated that with trust. And once you earned their trust, you held all the cards.

Taking his strengths and combining them with my own made me feel like a million bucks. I knew I was good. Hell, if being here at State had taught me anything, it was that I was even better than I’d thought. Even the professors came to me when they wanted to promote a new business venture or idea, needed help learning the newest social-media app, or wanted help thinking outside the box, as they liked to call it. Last semester, I gave a group of professors a crash course in all things Snapchat. It was slightly disturbing, to say the least, but they were grateful for my expertise. Each of them recommended me to everyone they knew who could use my help.

But back to Jess, the hot little number sitting next to me. I wanted to find out more about her, so I bumped my knee against hers. Damn, her skin was soft.

She glanced at me, her eyes narrowed slightly as her lips pulled into a straight line.

Tempted to reach out and pull her face toward mine, I leaned in slightly and whispered, “Have you ever been to any of my parties?”

She looked toward the professor before meeting my eyes again, and nodded.

I swallowed, racking my brain for any images of her. After coming up blank, I whispered, “When?”

She shook her head slightly. “Last Friday, stupid.”

“Stupid?” I fought back the urge to laugh out loud. She was a mouthy little thing.

“I’m not surprised you didn’t see me. You had your tongue down some girl’s throat the whole night.”

This time I did laugh. Out fucking loud.

The professor looked up from his textbook, adjusting the glasses on his nose as he scanned the room for the offenders before he continued, his tone broadcasting his annoyance at my disruption.

Half-tempted to pull out a piece of paper and start writing her notes to her like a fifth grader, I decided I’d have to talk to Jess later when I wouldn’t get us both into trouble. The last thing I needed was to get screwed in this class and not have enough credits to graduate.

But even with the lingering threat, I still couldn’t keep my mouth shut.

“Maybe next time that will be you,” I said, hoping to win her over a little.

“I’m already seeing someone. Sorry,” she said, her flat tone signaling the end of the conversation.

But it wasn’t.

Not at all.

Intrigued

Jess

When the professor slammed his book shut in a display of authority before dismissing the class, I fumbled with my notebook as I tried to stuff it into my bag.

Nick had distracted me, and after his questions, he spent the

rest of class either staring at me with a shit-eating grin on his face, or touching my leg with his. I don’t think I took a single note after that. Anytime his skin pressed against mine, I wanted to hop into his lap, tell him I surrender, and let him have his way with me.

Pushing up from my chair, I started for the classroom door and away from Nick when he shouted my name. I stopped and turned to find him and his two friends heading toward me in a rush.

“You always travel in packs?” I asked, lifting my chin at his frat brothers.

He turned to them. “I’ll catch up with you guys in a bit.”

“Are you sure?” one of them said. “We’re supposed to meet Marcus at Bites.”

“I’ll meet you there,” he said curtly with a nod. The guys walked away slowly and left Nick and me standing at the front of the classroom with the rest of the class hurrying out around us.

“They seem lost without you,” I said with a smirk.

“It does seem that way, doesn’t it?” He reached for my elbow and pulled me toward the glass doors. “Let’s walk and talk.”

Tags: J. Sterling Fisher Brothers Romance
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