7
But I played it as cool as I could, and gave him a You are SO full of shit smirk. “Studying’s important? Really.”
He matched me grin for grin. “It obviously is to you.”
Shanna was getting pissed that Derek was ignoring her. So she played her trump card.
“Kaitlyn has a boyfriend,” she announced loudly.
As soon as she said it, my stomach twisted with guilt – and anger.
“No I don’t. We broke up three days ago, remember?” I snapped.
“You always break up and get back together,” she said petulantly, then turned to Derek. “They’re high school sweethearts. They’ll be back together by tomorrow night, just watch.”
In addition to my anger and guilt, I also felt a tiny bit of fear – that Derek would lose interest in me.
I reprimanded myself. I was bad to feel that way. Shanna was right, I’d probably be back with Kevin in another couple of days.
And if I kept talking to Derek, it would just confirm all of Kevin’s worst accusations.
It’s better if he loses interest now, I told myself dejectedly.
But he didn’t.
He just looked at me with no change in expression whatsoever, like I’d told him I had a swing set when I was kid, or that I liked eating celery. “Cool. He go here?”
My stomach churned a little more. “Uh… no. He’s at Syracuse.”
“Upstate New York?”
“Yeah.”
Derek nodded briefly. “I hear it’s pretty up there. So, what’s this test you’re studying for?”
And just like that, the topic of my (ex)boyfriend was past, a billboard receding in the car mirror on the conversation highway.
Judging by her expression, Shanna knew it was over. Her big play had failed. She looked like a kid who’d just found out there was no Santa Claus – and I was the Grinch who stole Christmas. She alternated sad puppy-dog looks at him and teeth-clenching glares at me.
I should have felt awful.
I knew I should have felt awful.
…but damn he was gorgeous.
And if he wanted to sleep with her, he would have waved goodbye to me and kicked the door shut as I walked out.
But he obviously didn’t want that.
Plus, she’d kind of been a punk using Kevin against me like that.
And how many times had she brought back drunk guys to have sex in our dorm room? How many times had she totally disrupted my life?
So one out of twenty slipped through her fingers. Boo hoo.
And that’s how I justified being a bitch to her.
To clarify, I did feel bad about it.
Just not bad enough to leave.
“What are you studying?” Derek prodded me again.
“English Lit. We’re doing Chaucer.”
“The Canterbury Tales?”
“Yeah.”
“Which one?”
“You know the Canterbury Tales,” I said in amused disbelief.
Mr. Rock Jock, Biceps-To-Drool-For, Out-Of-This-World-Body spends his spare time reading medieval literature. Riiiiight.
My attitude came through a little too strongly.
“Well, aren’t we snobbish,” he teased me.
“That’s not what I meant,” I said, flustered – though, yeah, that was actually exactly what I had meant. I tried to recover. “Did they teach it at your high school?”
“No. There’s a Procol Harum song where they mention the Miller’s Tale – ”
A memory sparked in my mind. “I know that one – ”
And we both said “Whiter Shade Of Pale” at the same instant.
“Jinx,” Shanna sneered angrily as she flopped down on her narrow single bed.
I ignored her and focused on him. “That’s a good song.”
“Hell yeah it is. So, anyway, I read the Miller’s Tale and a few others. You’re not reading the Miller’s Tale, are you?”
“No.”
“Good.”
I gave him a quizzical little frown. “Why ‘good’?”
“It’s f*cked up. It’s a little too… naughty for a nice girl like you,” he said, nodding in mock solemnity.
The way he said ‘naughty’ made parts of me want to get naughty.
“Ohhh, is it,” I nodded back, turning up the ‘doe-eyed and innocent’ to 11.
“Yeah. People sleeping around… having sex… kinky sex… it’s not for impressionable young minds like yours.”
Unhhhhhhh…
The way he said ‘kinky sex,’ in that rumbling, deep voice… hoo boy.
“Well then, I’m safe,” I assured him, still playing along. “I’m reading the Wife of Bath’s tale.”
His eyes opened a bit wider. “Ohhh, the horny chick.”
I smiled tightly. “Yes. That was Chaucer’s original title for it. ‘The Horny Chick’s Tale.’”
He arched one eyebrow. “Am I wrong?”
Actually, no, he wasn’t. The Wife of Bath brags that she’s been married five times, all to guys with great chests and large, um… packages. At one point she speculates on how much her hoo-ha would get at auction. Hint: she thought it would break records.
I didn’t want to get into those details, though, so I just gave a noncommittal “Mmmm…”
He didn’t pursue it, thank God.
“That’s the one with the knight who has to figure out what women want, right?”
I cocked my head and stared at him. “I’m impressed.”
“What, just because I’m incredibly hot, you think I don’t have a brain?”
He said it in a way that was supposed to be self-mocking… but it was pretty apparent that he knew he was hot. Which was annoying.
“I think you meant, ‘just because I’m incredibly in love with myself,’” I said with a prim smile. “And as for the brain thing, no, it’s the tattoos and rings. I would’ve figured you more for knowing the complete works of Whitesnake.”
He laughed – and oh my God it was sexy.
Apparently he wasn’t insulted, because he said, “I know those, too, but obviously you don’t, because you missed the obvious hint that I’m not a huge fan.”
“Which is?”
“No head-bangin’ hair.”
It was true. No poofed-out mullet or cascading locks. His hair was just long and tousled enough to make him look disreputable… and damn sexy.
“Ah. You have to have the hair to be in the Whitesnake fan club, is that it?”
“Yes you do.” He grinned, crossed his arms, and locked his gaze with mine. “So… what do women want?”
“I know what I want,” Shanna said grumpily as she stretched out on her bed. “And I’m not gettin’ it.”
“I have my own Wife of Bath as a roommate,” I joked.
Derek frowned, mildly confused.
“Um… horny chick,” I explained, blushing a little.
“HELL YEAH,” Shanna shouted.
Derek grinned. “Gotcha. So… what do women want?”
“I haven’t finished the story.”
“I’m not talking about the story.”
“Then why are you asking?”
His smile was ohhhh so seductive. “It’s an interest of mine.”
He was too cocky for his own good. I couldn’t let him get away with it.
“One you do a lot of field research in, huh?” I asked, nodding.
He shrugged, gave me a half-smile. “A little.”
“I’m sure.”
“…so?”
“So, what?”
“So what do women want?”
His green eyes felt like they were undressing me.
I forced myself to keep staring into them, and not let my eyes drop down to what I really wanted. “Why are you asking me?”
“You’re a woman. I’m a man. I want to know.”