It’s for that very reason I refuse to go there.
Plus, he irritates the crap out of me.
“Nothing,” I mutter, wanting to shut down any further conversation. Had I realized Brayden would be gracing us with his presence, I would have politely declined the invitation and grabbed something to go. I refuse to spend any more time with him than absolutely necessary. It’s bad enough that we’re stuck together in a class and somehow got partnered up for our accounting project. Do you have any idea what that’s been like?
In a word—aggravating.
Plus, with Demi dating one of his roommates, we’re thrown together even more often than before. Avoidance has become almost impossible.
Sure, he’s charming as hell. I’ve watched him in action for the past three years. My conclusions on the subject are that he’s nothing more than a fuck boy, and I have zero interest in getting caught up in that.
“Syd needs a model for her art project,” Rowan pipes up rather unhelpfully when I remain silent.
I narrow my eyes and shoot him an icy glare. He’s well aware of my feelings for his friend and teammate. One side of his mouth hitches in response as he shrugs.
Forget what I said earlier about Rowan being a sweetheart. He’s the furthest thing from it.
“Really?” Brayden says with interest.
“Naked,” Rowan adds.
“Well, I have to admit you had me at model.” There’s a pause as he slides closer until all of the distance between us is swallowed up, and he fills my entire line of sight. “Throw in naked and I’m all yours, sweetheart.”
Air gets clogged in my throat when I realize that I’ve become trapped in his predatory stare. Liquid heat pools in my core. It takes effort to tamp down my body’s natural reaction as my palms flatten against the solid strength of his chest and I push him away.
“No thanks.” I make sure to add the right amount of contempt to my response. There’s no way in hell I want Brayden to suspect that he can turn me on so easily. We’re talking the flick of a switch. Before I could blink, he’d find a way to use that weakness against me. And I know exactly how he would do it. Even the thought is enough to make me break into a cold sweat.
“You’re not interested in drawing all this?” He does his best impersonation of Vanna White while waving a hand down his body.
“Nope.” Yes! A hundred percent. He’s gorgeous. The guy didn’t win Campus Heartthrob three straight years in a row for his uncanny likeness to the Hunchback of Notre-Dame.
He shrugs. “Your loss.”
Probably.
“Hardly,” I respond in a haughty tone.
“If you can’t get one of your models to do it, why not get your boyfriend?” Brayden asks, settling against the seat. He stretches out until his arm can drape across the back of the wooden bench we’re squeezed into. “Voilà. Problem solved.”
Even though his fingers are gentle and barely rest against my skin, I feel his touch down to my bones. It’s impossible to ignore. Every bit of my attention becomes centered on it.
Why?
Why him?
Why does my body react to him like this?
It’s as irritating as it is disturbing.
Demi’s brows beetle together as she opens her mouth.
“Ethan is busy with baseball,” I blurt before she can set him straight. “He’s not able to do it.”
“Hmm.” His gaze stays fixated on mine. It’s as if everything around us ceases to exist. I feel trapped in place, like a butterfly pinned to a Styrofoam board. All of the oxygen gets sucked from the atmosphere, making it impossible to breathe. His voice dips, turning raspy. “If you were my girlfriend, I wouldn’t let some dude model naked for you. I’d be the only guy you were catching an eyeful of.”
“Then it’s lucky for me that I’m not your girlfriend, isn’t it?” Where that comment comes from, I have no idea, but I’m thankful for it. Verbally sparring with Brayden comes second nature to me. I’ve had a ton of practice over the years.
The humor filling his eyes drains away, leaving a steely glint in its place as we continue to stare. Just when it becomes almost too much to withstand, I force my gaze to Demi. Once my attention is focused elsewhere, the air rushes from my lungs in a burst.
Questions fill her dark eyes. They’re ones I don’t necessarily want to answer. Brayden doesn’t need to know that Ethan and I broke up about a month ago. It’s just easier if he assumes my ex-boyfriend is still in the picture. The guy hits on me all the time; I can’t imagine how much more intense his attention would become if he realized I was single. It’s not something I’m interested in discovering firsthand.
“So,” he says, cutting into my thoughts and drawing my attention reluctantly back to him, “what time are we hooking up at the library tonight?”