She looks up at me, jumping back a bit. “Jesus, Bennett, you scared the crap out of me.” She raises a hand to her heart. “And what do you mean?” Her nose crinkles in confusion.

“The guy you fell on is a hockey player.”

Her mouth pops open and pink blooms across her cheeks. “How do you know about that?” She hisses, looking around like she’s afraid someone’s going to overhear.

“The prick was talking about it in the gym,” I answer, unable to keep the sneer from my voice.

Her eyes widen in horror. “I’m going to kill him,” she hisses under her breath. Raising her voice, and her chin, she says, “I didn’t know he was a hockey player. I’m not one of those fuck bunnies if that’s what you’re thinking.”

My lips twitch ever so slightly with the urge to laugh. “They’re called puck bunnies.”

She wrinkles her nose again and we move forward in line. “I like my term better. It’s more accurate.”

&n

bsp; She’s got that right.

“I’m going to the bar, you wanna come?” I find myself asking before I even thought about what I was going to say. What the fuck is the matter with me?

“Um …” She looks up at me with wide, doe-like eyes. “Bars aren’t really my thing.”

“Come on,” I find myself coaxing. “It’ll be fun. You’ll be with me.”

She bites her lip. “I’m supposed to meet Elle and Ryland,” she hedges.

The monster named Jealousy rears up inside me when I hear the name Ryland, but I quickly douse it. I have no right to feel jealous. “Tell them to come.”

She bites her lip and I know she’s caving. “Let me text Elle.”

We step out of line so that other people can get their caffeine fix. I shuffle beside her as she texts her friend. I’ve never been so awkward around a girl before. It’s kind of alarming. I lean against a lamppost and stare down at the ground; it’s riddled with splotches of gum and pebbles and dirt.

“Elle says they’re in.” Grace puts her phone away and looks up at me. Her hair blows slightly in the wind, a stray piece getting caught in her lip gloss. Before I can stop myself, I reach out and grab the strand of hair, plucking it away.

I swallow thickly; the way my heart’s beating in my chest is something I’ve never felt before. My gut tells me to run, run far and fast, away from this girl, and yet my feet are planted firmly to the ground. I’m frozen, locked in her gaze. We stare at each other, neither of us saying a word. I wish I could read her mind, to know if she’s as confused by this as I am, but I’m scared if I open my mouth I’ll discover I’m the only one with these thoughts, and for some reason, I can’t bear the thought of that.

“Cool,” I finally say in response to what she said. “Shall we go?” I point over my shoulder in the direction I’d originally been headed.

She looks away and then back up at me with uncertainty in her gaze. “Just tell me the place. Ryland has a car; he’ll make sure we get there.”

I’ve never hated a person I’ve never met before the way I hate this Ryland guy. It’s a bit—no, a lot—ridiculous. I don’t want to argue with her. I mean, I do but I don’t want to wave my asshole flag, so I sigh and say, “Yeah it’s Costello’s down on the corner of 5th and Main. You can’t miss it.”

She nods. “I’ll see you in an hour then?” She starts to move away and her backpack strap starts to slip. She quickly hikes it back up before it falls.

“Yeah, see you then,” I say.

She smiles one last time and hurries down the cobblestone walkway to her dorm.

I watch her go. When I can no longer see her, I finally force my legs to move back to my dorm—still sounds fucking ridiculous to say dorm—so I can change. If Grace isn’t going to be there for another hour, there’s no point to rush.

It doesn’t take me long to change, and I spend the rest of my time trying to figure out what’s so different about Grace and why I can’t get her out of my head.

The bar is packed with college kids and what looks like a few professionals enjoying an after work drink.

“Do you know if Bennett is here?” Elle asks, shouting to be heard above the noise. “I still can’t believe you know Bennett James.”

I shake my head. “I don’t have his number.”

“Girl, you have to get his number,” she says with a look like I’m crazy.

Tags: Micalea Smeltzer Us Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net