Out in the Field (Out in College 4)

“An hour?”

“I thought you wanted to catch up on Call of Duty.”

“Not tonight.” I pushed my hand through my hair. “I’m…busy.”

“Hmm. I see.” He stood, then skirted the sofa, pausing when someone knocked on our door. He winked mischievously. “Looks like I’ll get to meet him.”

“You already met him,” I reminded him.

“That was months ago,” he huffed. “We’re talking about Phoenix, right?”

“Right.”

“Good. I like him for you.”

“Why? You don’t know him.” I sounded like a stubborn kid even to my own ears.

“No, but I can tell you’re happy. It looks good on you. Kinda cute,” he teased.

“Fuck cute. Don’t you have someplace to be?”

Christian gave me a maniacal look when the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it.”

“No, you don’t.” I elbowed him in the ribs and stepped around him to answer the door.

My breath literally caught in my throat. Damn, he was stunning.

Phoenix flashed a warm radiant smile, then handed me a small plate covered with aluminum foil. “Hi. I brought treats.”

I took the plate and pretended to eye it suspiciously while clandestinely checking him out. His platinum hair contrasted nicely with his long hipster black-and-white checked jacket, ripped jeans, and short boots. He looked stylish and sexy. I felt grossly underdressed in my gray sweat pants and a long-sleeved Mammoth Lake T-shirt. I’d showered and brushed my teeth. Hell, I even bought a bottle of wine. But I wasn’t going to get dressed up to sit around reading…well, whatever it was Phoenix wanted to read.

“Mmm. Smells good. It can’t be oatmeal.”

“They’re brownies,” he announced. “But you said you liked oatmeal cookies.”

“In a pinch. I love brownies all the time. Come on in.” I pressed a light kiss on his lips and stepped aside for him to enter. “And don’t mind that guy. He’s on his way out.”

I made a quick round of introductions, then set the plate on the kitchen counter while Christian and Phoenix made polite small talk about college classes and even football. Phoenix asked Christian about a big play he ran in the championship game…a sure sign he’d been googling. I smiled at the thought as I hooked my arm around his waist and gave my roommate a universal “stop talking” hand signal.

Christian chuckled. “Looks like I’m out of time.”

“Sad to see you go, buddy,” I quipped.

“Yeah, I bet. I’ll get my jacket and be outta your way. Nice to see you again, Phoenix.”

I waited for Christian to move into his room before pulling Phoenix into my arms and fusing my lips to his. “Mmm. You taste like strawberries.”

He rested his arms over my shoulders and nodded. “Strawberry-kiwi.”

“My favorite flavor.”

I kissed him deeply this time. The sweet, languid slide of his tongue alongside mine made me dizzy with desire. I heard Christian call another good-bye before opening and closing the door, but even that didn’t break the spell. We made out in an unhurried give-and-take, swaying slightly as though we were slow dancing. When Phoenix lifted his arms to hug me closer, his bag fell between us and hit me in the thigh. He chuckled at my exaggerated wince.

“Sorry.” He patted the side of his bag. “The script.”

“Right. Uh, are you hungry or do you want anything to drink? I have wine.”

“That sounds perfect. And water too, please.”

“You got it. I’ll be right back.” I kissed his temple impulsively before moving to the kitchen.

I grabbed two water bottles and stuffed them into my sweat pants pockets along with a corkscrew, then picked up the wine I’d bought earlier, two glasses, and the plate of brownies before rejoining him. Phoenix snickered as I set each item on the coffee table with a flourish like a waiter, and thanked me when I handed him a water bottle. He set it beside the brownies before shrugging off his coat and draping the garment over the side of the sofa.

“Thank you. The brownies are yours. You don’t have to share them with me.”

“I’m not sharing. You’re my taste tester. They look amazing, but they might suck,” I teased as I uncorked the bottle. “Watching cooking shows doesn’t turn you into a cooker.”

“Baker. Not cooker. And I’m a very good baker. I assure you these do not suck.” He pulled the foil from the plate and broke off a piece. “Try one.”

I poured wine into both glasses, then put the bottle down with a dramatic sigh before turning to him with my mouth open. When he lifted the brownie bite to my lips, I held his wrist and looked him in the eye as I licked it from his fingers.

“It’s good,” I hummed.

“Just good?”

I sucked the digit clean and bit it playfully. “Very good.”

Phoenix gulped audibly and covered it with a cough. “Thanks.”

I handed him a glass of wine and gently clinked my glass to his. “Cheers.”

He gave me an appreciative once-over before taking a sip. The automatic ego boost was heady. He had to know I felt the same way. Before I could defuse the sexual tension by saying something corny, he bent to pull a binder from his bag.