The Girl Next Door
This isn’t a topic I want to delve straight into at nine o’clock on a Sunday morning. In fact, I don’t want to think about it ever again. For reasons I can’t explain, I am ridiculously attracted to Beck. Even though he is all kinds of wrong for me, my feelings have yet to dissipate. Every time I catch sight of him, my heartbeat skitters and the muscles in my belly contract.
He’s the last person I want to feel this way about.
His words from last night ring unwantedly in my head.
Your days of running from me are numbered.
Was he serious?
I’m not even sure what that means. Hopefully nothing.
Alyssa waves her hand in front of my face. “Hello? Earth to Mia. Come in, Mia.”
I snap out of those disconcerting thoughts. “Sorry,” I mumble.
“Please tell me I wasn’t hallucinating. Because if that’s the case, I really am going to lay off the booze.”
“No,” I admit, “we danced together.” I’m reluctant to give her further details. The last thing I need is Alyssa rooting for a relationship that is doomed to fail before it even starts.
Last night was a bad decision on my part. We need to leave it at that.
You know what this situation calls for?
A change in topic.
I raise my brow and turn the tables on her. “Is there anything you would like to tell me about?”
“Huh?” Her face scrunches.
“I saw you at the bar with Colton.”
She blinks away the confusion as her expression hardens. “Can you believe that guy had the audacity to show his face after I purposefully went out of my way not to invite him?”
“Umm, maybe?” I pause. “Any interesting conversations?”
She moves to the armchair before slumping onto it and squeezing her eyes shut. “He wants to be friends,” she mutters. “Don’t worry, I was extremely clear about where he can shove his friendship.”
I bet she was.
My lips lift into a smile. Once you’ve landed on Alyssa’s shit list, there’s no way off it. Poor Colton. He should walk away while he still can.
“Maybe that was the closure you needed to move on. Feel any better about getting it out of your system?”
Even though her eyelids remain closed, her lips tug down at the corners. “Surprisingly, no.”
“I’m proud of you for giving him a piece of your mind. That took balls,” I tell her.
She snorts. “As far as I’m concerned, he can shove those up his ass as well.”
“Sounds like his ass is a crowded place.”
Alyssa cracks open her eyelids and stares at me for a moment before we both burst out laughing. “Yeah, it does.”
Chapter Fourteen
Beck
I glance at my phone and maneuver my way through the crowd of students traveling across campus like cattle. These people need to move their asses or I’m going to be late. Class starts in less than five minutes and walking in like I don’t give a shit isn’t the first impression I’m looking to make.
Once I reach Mitchell Hall, where the English classes are held, I take the stairs two at a time. Less than a minute later, I’m sliding onto a chair. With a huff, I pull out my computer and wait for Dr. Hayes to get class underway.
Devon Baker plunks his ass down next to me.
Great.
Like I need this distraction. Devon runs his mouth like he’s getting paid by the minute. English isn’t exactly what one would call a high-octane class. It will take every ounce of my focus to concentrate for a full fifty minutes.
With a grin, he fist bumps me. “Dude, I didn’t know you were in this class.”
“Last minute change to the schedule.” My advisor emailed me last week and dropped the bomb that Composition is a requirement for graduation.
So here I am.
And I’m not a happy camper about it either.
The thought of writing a bunch of papers makes me want to blow my brains out. And no, I’m not being overdramatic. I suck at writing. There’s a reason I pushed this course off for years until I was able to forget about it. Unfortunately, my procrastination has now bitten me in the ass. When I grumbled about it to Coach, he told me he’d reach out to the professor and make sure she kept him in the loop as far as grades were concerned.
Talk about a double fucking whammy.
Like I need that guy riding my ass all semester with a crop.
Needless to say, senior year isn’t exactly off to a great start.
“I’m so freaking stoked about getting Hayes for this course,” he says.
Seriously?
Those have to be the last words I expected to hear coming out of Devon’s mouth.
He’s one of those athletes who cobbled together a bunch of bullshit classes and slapped a major on it. He better hope his ass makes it to the NFL because I have no idea what else he’ll do.