Very Wicked Beginnings (Briarwood Academy 1.5)

When I got the nerve to look at her again, her attention was on my tat. Ah, did she like ink on guys? I crossed my arm, flexing my bicep a little so she’d have a better view of the twisting vine as it crossed my arms.

I imagined her mouth tracing those roses.

As if she read my mind, she turned pink when she looked up and met my gaze. I grinned.

Then the bell rang. Dammit. I didn’t want this to be over.

She let out a sigh and stood. “This was fun, but I have class.”

I rose and grabbed her backpack before she could. “I’ll walk you.”

She shrugged like whatever and we walked out of the cafeteria together and down the hall.

“This is me,” she said, stopping at a classroom a few minutes later. I peeked in. Geometry. I suddenly wished I was in here with her.

I shook my head. That was ridiculous.

I handed her the backpack, our hands brushing, sending little shocks through my body.

And right there, I went for it. I hadn’t officially asked a girl out on a real date in months, but with her, I was making the exception.

“I bought two tickets to see Les Miserables in a few weeks. Primo seats. Wanna go?” I asked.

“Guys like you aren’t part of my plan,” she said.

“If that’s a challenge, then I accept.”

“No challenge, just the truth.” She moved to walk away, but I pulled her back with my next words. Because I was feeling all kinds of insecure. “Okay, tell me straight. Are you just completely disinterested in me? You say one thing, but your body is saying something else.”

“My body?” She looked annoyed, but I kept on.

“Yeah, I’m getting this vibe from you. Makes me want to ditch school and drag you out to the barn at the back of campus where we can be alone. Maybe it’s all me, I don’t know, but I think you feel it too.”

“You really put yourself all out there, don’t you?” she said, her eyes big.

“Maybe. If this is my only shot, I’m going for it.” I paused. “Let me in, Dovey.”

“Why me?”

I didn’t know why her.

But I sensed this was my only chance to get her attention, so I did something crazy.

I leaned in to her and sang out in a low voice, “Why do birds sing? Why do phones ring? Why does my heart fly? For all I know, you’ll make me cry. Why do fools fall in love? Why were you named after a dove?” I stopped and grinned, impressed with my spur of the moment performance.

Her mouth gaped. “That was the most atrocious thing I’ve ever heard.”

“It was pretty cheesy, wasn’t it?”

“Pure crap,” she said, but then smiled.

I laughed, and I mean, I laughed. And the sound was so real and easy and good and she was just fucking perfect.

“Don’t tell anyone I sing silly songs,” I said teasingly. “Football players are supposed to be tough and mean.”

She gave me a thoughtful look. “Everyone says you’re pretty good on the field. That no quarterback is safe.”

I didn’t believe my own hype, actually. “Whatever.”

“I hear you’re the best defensive end BA has ever seen and a four-star recruit by ESPN.”

I scratched an eyebrow. “Maybe.” I leaned in closer. “Maybe you can come and watch me practice? I could use my own personal cheerleader in the stands.”

“I thought the season was over anyway.”

I shrugged. “I’ve got a recruiter coming to see me soon. Wanna be ready.”

“Ah, well, I’m pretty busy.” She paused, a weird look on her face. “But I’d love to see you in uniform.”

My eyes widened. Bingo! “That can be arranged. Maybe you could wear your little ballet skirt?”

Visions of me slipping my hand up under her skirt flashed through my head. Again. Maybe she’d unlace my football pants, take my cock out and—fuck—I had to stop this line of thinking. Because, I think I really liked this girl, and something in me wanted to do right by her.

I wanted to woo her.

And that was the craziest thought I’d ever had.

I grinned at her red face. “Ah, I shouldn’t have said that. You’re thinking dirty thoughts.”

“Am not,” she said, but she didn’t sound sure.

“Uh-huh.” My lids lowered.

“How do you know?”

I leaned in. “I can read a girl. And based on the red face and dilated eyes, you like me.”

Her breathing escalated, making me scoot in a tiny bit closer. I inhaled her wildflower scent, my heart beating like a drum.

“Get to know me, Dovey. Let’s hang out. I promise I won’t bite unless you want me to.”

She let out a long sigh, like she was getting ready for a sermon. She said, “I appreciate your balls in coming up to me. I even applaud your whole ‘I dreamed about you’ line, because it was smooth. Just the right amount of humor with a touch of sexy. It’s obvious you’re a master at picking up girls. And the kissing part? That was excellent. Very subtle, and just enough to get my mind to thinking about us … you know … kissing.” Her words faltered. “But at the end of the day, it won’t work. We aren’t compatible. We come from two different places. You’re rich; I’m not. You like to party; I don’t. You like high heels; I don’t wear them. Good grief, your friends call you Hollywood. Then there’s me. I work my ass off to get everything I have. So yeah, not feasible.”