Campus God (Campus)

Feeling as if I’m adrift in the middle of a raging sea, I glance at Sasha and Easton for help, only to see that they’re busy playing kissy face. I gulp down the nerves that are rising in my throat and shift uncomfortably, wishing escape was an option. An awkward silence descends as I stare at my phone. If I can’t physically get away, maybe mental escape is a possibility. Hopefully, if I ignore him long enough, he’ll get the hint and take off.

Even though I’d been starving a handful of moments ago, my appetite has vanished. I have no idea if it’s because of the guy parked next to me or the one who just texted. As much as I wish it weren’t the case, Crosby makes me nervous and twitchy. As if I’ll come right out of my skin. I hate it.

Even though my attention is focused on my phone, I’m hyperaware of him sitting six inches away from me. Every shift of his body. Every inhale of breath. Every rise and fall of his chest.

I feel it deep in my bones.

The heat that wafts off him in heavy, suffocating waves. Crosby Rhodes is way too good looking.

And that lip ring…

A reluctant shiver dances down my spine as goose flesh breaks out across my arms. It’s as if someone has thrown a heavy stone deep inside me and it ripples outward until it can reverberate in my fingers and toes. On more than one occasion, I’ve wondered what it would feel like to kiss him. I tell myself that it has nothing to do with him and more to do with the fact that I’ve never made out with a guy who has a piercing.

Deep down, I know I’m lying to myself. As much as I wish it didn’t, it has everything to do with Crosby. Once I realize what I’m doing, I silently chastise myself before refocusing on my phone.

“What are you looking at that’s so interesting?”

His voice breaks into the chaotic whirl of my thoughts. Unable to help myself, I glance at him, only to find his gaze pinned to mine as he shifts his body. Our knees brush as an unwanted bolt of lightning shoots through me, electrifying my insides.

My mouth turns cottony as I force out a response. “Nothing.”

Sasha breaks away from Easton long enough to ask, “Did you get another text from that guy?”

A rush of heat floods my cheeks as Crosby’s gaze flickers to my friend before slicing back to mine. If it’s possible, there’s even more intensity filling his dark depths. “What guy?”

I grit my teeth and glare at Sasha.

What the hell is she doing?

First she blabs to Ryder, and now Crosby?

If she’s looking to lose her best friend, she’s doing an excellent job. She must realize that the last person on the face of this Earth I’d want knowing any of my personal business is the guy sitting beside me, invading my space, and sending my senses into a tailspin.

I don’t think he’s ever been anything but an asshole. All right, so maybe he was sort of nice at the party when he gave me the shirt off his own back, but that’s certainly never been his MO. If his past behavior is anything to go by, this nicer, kinder Crosby won’t last long. At some point, he’ll turn, and I don’t want to be taken by surprise when he does. It’s much easier to keep him at a firm distance than to let my guard down.

“None of your business,” I grumble, shooting him a frown. If he thinks I’m going to set aside everything that’s happened between us just because he’s decided to act like a human being for once, he’s sadly mistaken.

A few seconds of silence tick by before he clears his throat, once again drawing my attention back to him.

“You look nice.”

My eyes widen. It’s like the real Crosby Rhodes has been taken by body snatchers and replaced with this imposter. I’m not saying the one sitting next to me isn’t a better version, but it’s still freaky.

He shifts as I continue to stare. “What?”

It’s tempting to lay my hand across his forehead and check for a fever. I need something that will make sense of this abrupt change in behavior.

When I remain silent, unsure what to say, he follows that up with another question. “Do you have a problem with me complimenting you?”

“No,” I say cautiously, choosing my words with the utmost care. It’s as if I’m navigating a minefield. One wrong step and I’ll be blown to smithereens. “I’m just waiting for the punchline.”

He cocks his head. Not once do his penetrating eyes deviate from me. It makes me feel as if he can see beneath the surface to my deepest thoughts. Ones that consist of him. It’s unnerving, and I can’t resist squirming beneath their intensity.