The Junior (College Years 3) - Page 42
“I heard a rumor you’re going shopping with me?” she asks hopefully.
I frown. The idea of going shopping with anyone, even Gracie, sounds like total ass right about now. “Uh…”
“Hayden is out of town. Jocelyn has Gigi and said taking her anywhere at her age is a total nightmare. Ava is with Eli. I have no one, and I need someone,” she says, her expression pleading. “Please? I have to pick out new clothes for work.”
My frown deepens. “What are you talking about? Just wear a Mitchell’s T-shirt and some shorts like you always do.”
“Not for my current job.” She wrings her hands, looking stressed. “I need respectable teacher-type outfits.”
Ahhh, right. Gracie is about to leave us to start student teaching. Her time at Mitchell’s is winding down and she starts teaching the week we’re headed back to campus. I’m going to miss her ass at work.
I’m going to miss her ass on the dock. Riding with her to the lake. Seeing her on campus. Hanging out with her and the rest of the gang. Not that she’s going to stop hanging out with us, but we’ve all been too damn busy lately to get together. Feels like we’re all growing up and moving on, and that kind of sucks.
“You want me to help you pick out some virginal teacher outfits? I can do that,” I say with a nod.
She scowls, but there’s no anger in it. That’s what’s changed too. I irritate her still with the dumbass shit I can’t help but say, but it doesn’t make her mad anymore. Most of the time I think she looks forward to hearing what dumb thing I’m about to say next. “Virginal teacher is not the look I’m going for.”
“Hot teacher then. I can work with that too,” I say.
She rolls her eyes. “No hot teacher either. More like, sweet, dependable teacher.”
“Boring, old lady teacher. We can do that. Long skirts. Turtlenecks. Gotta cover up all that hotness, G,” I say with a grin.
She laughs. Tries to appear annoyed but fails. She likes it when I call her hot. She likes it when I tease her. She pretty much likes it when I do anything…
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“We’re going to the mall,” she announces and I immediately start shaking my head. “What’s wrong with that?”
“That’s where I draw the line. The mall sucks ass,” I say. “Nope. No can do.”
“Come on, Caleb. Please? I need you to go with me,” she says, reaching for me, her hands settling on my arm as she grips me tightly.
Hmm. Something’s up. I’m not used to seeing needy Gracie. “You’ll owe me.”
“Okay,” she says way too quickly.
“Something big.” I rub my chin, contemplating her. “Like a…blow job.”
Don’t know if she’ll be down if you don’t ask, am I right? The worst she can say is no.
Her expression turns skeptical. “You’re negotiating for a blow job right now?”
“You’re damn right. You’ve left me with blue balls for weeks,” I tell her, which isn’t a lie. Every time I see her prancing around in her sleep shorts and a tank—or worse, the tiny shorts and a sports bra—I get a stiffy.
“So if you go to the mall with me, I have to give you a blow job as payback?” she asks, as if she needs the clarification.
I nod, feeling confident. “Yep. Those are my conditions.”
“Caleb.” She hesitates, and I lift my brows, waiting for her to continue. “I think I’m going to have to go to the mall alone.”
She exits the living room, leaving me high and dry as she goes into her bedroom. I can hear her grab her stuff, and next thing I know, she’s heading toward me once more, her purse slung over her shoulder, a pair of sunglasses covering her eyes. For some reason she looks extra sexy, the white crop top she’s wearing showing off the flat plane of her tanned stomach, and those denim shorts that show every bit of leg the girl has got, which is a lot.
“You’re leaving?” I ask her incredulously.
“I don’t negotiate sexual favors for friendships,” she says, lifting her chin. Looking and sounding haughty. “And that’s what we are, you know.”
“Friends?” My tone is full of disbelief but…
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