“A librarian? Really? Huh…I was going for geek chic, guess I missed my mark,” she says, following me into the house.
I look back and she’s smiling looking around at the pictures that line the hall. She seems to be oblivious to me watching her, lost in her own thoughts scanning each photo. It would be so nice to be that carefree in my own home, instead of constantly being on edge and worrying about what I'm gonna do next to set the asshole off.
“So your dad’s a cop, huh?” she asks, eyeing the picture of him in his uniform, receiving some award a couple of years ago.
“Yeah, has been since I was born.” My words are laced with disdain, I can’t help it.
“You look really alike. Everyone always tells me that I look like my mom—she loves it when people ask if we’re sisters. I’m pretty sure they're saying it just to be nice to her, but she eats that shit up. I never know whether to be pissed or not that they think I look like a forty-year-old.”
I narrow my eyes and give her a once over. “Don’t worry, you definitely don't look a day over thirty-five.”
She tilts her chin at me. “Wow, you’re just full of compliments today.” She nudges my arm with her shoulder and then instantly takes a step away. I’m guessing it’s not in her character to be as flirty as she’s being. At least I hope this is flirting.
“Come on then, where are we studying?” she asks, looking down at her sneakers.
“Come on up to my room,” I say and motion toward the stairs, “all my books are up there.”
Her eyes widen slightly. “Won’t your folks be pissed if they get home and you have some random girl in your room?”
A low laugh rumbles in my chest. “It wouldn’t be the first time. Besides all we’re doing is studying.”
“I guess so,” she says, making her way up the stairs and giving me a perfect view of her ass in those tiny shorts. “No need to worry about my parents, anyway. Mom won't be home until past eight and my dad’s on night shift. We have the place to ourselves.”
I move past her and open my bedroom door for her. She walks straight over to my desk and starts unloading her bag.
“You wanna get your notes out and we can go through anything you didn’t understand in class?”
“Sure,” I say, but the only thing I don’t understand at the moment is how I haven’t noticed this girl until now.
We’ve been in my room for a couple of hours and I'm getting ready to call it on the whole study session, I can’t concentrate for shit. I keep watching Blair’s legs as they swing back and forth from my desk chair. I’m fantasizing about how much I want them wrapped around me. I think I’m actually starting to get jealous of the stupid chair.
“How’s about we leave it here for now? I think my head’s gonna explode if I have to look at another equation.” I close my book and rest back onto my elbows across my bed.
She peers up over the rim of her glasses. “Sure I’ll head home in a sec. I’m guessing you want to get going to the party?” she says through a yawn.
“Why don't you come with me? We can chill, grab a drink, plus you’ll get to watch us perform. You don't have other plans, do you?” Her eyes widen in shock and then I register that I've practically just asked her out on a date.
I don't think I’ve ever been so nervous about a girl’s response before. In fact, scratch that, I have never been this worried. I’ve hooked up with tons of girls and never once given a shit about what they think of me. I'm not known for being the sweet and sensitive type. I'm more the asshole that sleeps with them and then doesn't call. Blair’s different though; I don't want to be the cocky asshole around her. I don't just want to fuck her—which, by the way, I do—I want to spend time with her. I want her to like me, the real me. Not the self-assured musician front that I put on for everyone else.
I HAVE DONE nothing for the last hour except pretend to read my textbook while stealing glances at Ethan. I’ve turned into the love-struck giddy teenager I used to laugh at Emily for being. I’m more than a little pissed at myself.
Ethan pulled up in his big ass black Camaro a couple minutes after I’d arrived. I was attempting to shoot hoops and had missed about fifty in a row and then fluked a shot just as he got out of his car. I wanted to do a happy dance!
He’s wearing low-slung dark jeans and a tight grey beater. I can see the ridges of his abs and I think I would sell a kidney at this point to see them in the flesh. I have in the back of my mind that this guy’s known for being a dick at school, but so far I haven't seen any trace of that Ethan. It’s like he’s turned into someone else. I can’t figure him out.
I’m yawning and getting my things together when I hear him mumble something to me.
“Sorry, what?” He’s looking kind of embarrassed and now I'm wondering what it could have been that I just missed.