Foolproof (Drexler University, #2)

“Sad.” I knew what it was like to have parents push you into things that you didn’t want. But unlike Ryan, I was still on the escalator of parent appeasement. Not only my career, but counseling—which ended up being a good thing. And there was that horrible three year stint of oboe lessons. Seriously, who thought making their tone-deaf kid play an instrument was a good idea? My music teacher sure didn’t appreciate it, if her glass full of scotch during our private lessons was any indication.

God, two peas in a pod with the messed up family situations. Not like it mattered, though. Hookups didn’t need to know the nitty-gritty details, they just needed to know how to insert tab A into slot B.





Chapter Sixteen


Ryan


Two more days until Dad decided who got the weekend of the Fourth off and Jules and I were tied with sales. Customers ate up her fake smile, the one that didn’t quite make it to her eyes. I’d seen the real smile a few times, whenever she passed me a note she thought was extra racy.

Truth: I was running out of sexy song names. I’d have to do some research tonight when my shift ended. A text rang through as I took another one of Jules’s notes and made my way to the back room. Before tearing into the note, I pulled out my phone and checked my message from Blake.

B: Mind if we all share a tent?

R: Who is “we all”?

B: You, me, and Payton…maybe Jules.

R: I thought it was a dude’s only trip?

B: We know how well those work out.

He had to bring up our senior trip. The whole reason we hadn’t been as close the last few years. Payton would never forgive me for that weekend—when he lost his phone, Payton went AWOL, and Blake spent two years moping around—and since Blake had an all-access pass to Payton, he automatically took her side.

R: Fine.

B: I’ll buy you flowers to make up for it.

R: Better be a damn bouquet of roses.

Damn, Payton always had to tag along. This was supposed to be Blake and me, hanging out. I needed my friend back, and Payton just created more of a wedge, separating us even further. Nut up, dipshit. Payton was here for the long haul, might as well make the best of it.

Another text came in, this time from Lex.

L: I’ve been thinking about you. I miss my Pookie.

R: Save it for someone who cares.

The pet names needed to stop. Poor choice on my part to message her back, but she’d caught me at a weak moment. I should have blocked her number, but every time I went to hit delete, I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

I pocketed my phone and unfolded the note from Jules.

Gonna make you sweat

My dick twitched as I read the message. Jules ranked a solid ten on the dirty talk scale. Added to the fact that she made me laugh, and she didn’t want anything serious, this was just what I needed. Nothing serious. Just something to get my mind off everything else. It was also nice that she didn’t give me death glares when I made shitty jokes and kept surprising me with cool things like working on cars and being smart as hell.

I pulled the magazine out of my locker and checked off the second step while I read the third.

Step 3: Turn Up the Heat

Snagged that cutie yet? Now it’s time to lay on the moves. Take a little risk. Go out of your comfort zone. Leave him wanting more.

Jules stood behind the counter, ringing up a customer, when I came back onto the main floor. I moved behind the register and stood next to her as she handed the guy a receipt and his bag.

“C+C Music Factory. You’re running out of material.”

She leaned against the register, pushing out her chest. “Some of my finest work.”

“We have different definitions of fine.”

Putting her hands on her hips, she said, “And what’s yours?”

“You.” I decided to push the boundaries a little, seeing just how far she’d go in our game. Positioning myself next to her, I slid my hand over the band of her pants and cupped her over the fabric. Her head knocked back and she let out a sexy little groan.

The phone rang, and Jules quickly scrambled to pick it up. “Office Jax. Where all the supplies are top rack for unbeatable prices. This is Jules how may I help you tod—ay?” Her voice cracked as I rubbed her center through the material, and a flush blazed up the column of her neck like an untamed wildfire. She gripped the sides of the register and sucked in her cheeks.

I couldn’t hear the customer on the other end of the phone, but Jules’s eyes fluttered shut as she leaned into my touch.

“We’re open—” I rubbed harder and she stuttered. “T-till nine.”

She turned to me, covered the receiver with her hand, and whisper-yelled, “What are you doing?”

“You think you’re the only one who can do the teasing at work?”

“While I’m on the phone with a customer?” she hissed.

I grinned. “Can’t take the heat?”

Jules turned her attention back to the call. “What item did you want to know the price of?”

I flicked a pen off the counter and bent down to get it, dropping to my knees. I ran my hand up Jules’s calf to the inside of her thigh. Her leg quivered under my touch as I moved my thumb over the space between her thighs.

Jennifer Blackwood's books