Yeah. It had been a wonder I’d been able to throw a complete pass my freshman year, but somehow I’d channeled all that emotion and feeling into football.
She reached across the table and grasped my hand. My thumb brushed hers, lingering.
Cyndi chose that moment to return with our check, giving me a clear view of her cleavage as she leaned down to give it to me. I ignored her, but Sunny still pulled back. I noticed Cyndi had slipped a piece of paper under the check with her phone number on it, but I pretended like I didn’t see it when I placed cash on top and handed it back. Her eyes darted to Sunny, a spiteful look there.
We gathered our things and headed out the door into the fall evening. We started walking to the parking lot a couple of blocks over, and without even knowing how it happened, we were holding hands again.
“What are you doing tomorrow night?”
Her face split into a grin. “Pulling down swan wallpaper in my bedroom. The former owners of the house had a thing for birds.”
“Nice,” I said. “I’m coming over to help you.”
“Don’t you have practice?”
“I’ll come after and bring dinner. You like sushi?”
“I love it,” she murmured, “but that sounds like too much trouble for you. You don’t get finished until late, and you’ll be exhausted. I can cook something if you want. Everyone says my lasagna—”
“No. Don’t go to any trouble for me. You have enough going on with work. I’m bringing dinner. It’s a date.”
She blinked up at me. “Okay.”
Wait.
Was I dating my fake girlfriend?
Nah. I pushed that thought away. We were just friends.
Sunny
“HE HAS MORE MUSCLES IN his back than I have in my whole body,” I told Isabella as we had lunch Wednesday at the hotdog place in the Student Center.
“Let me get this straight: you had Max Kent half-naked in your bedroom and didn’t try to nail him?”
“He was helping me pull down wallpaper. It wasn’t exactly romantic.”
She waved her hands around. “He’s the hottest quarterback in the history of Georgia. It’s imperative you go to pound town. You can tell your grandchildren someday . . . you can write your memoirs. More importantly, you can tell me about it.” She dunked a French fry in her ketchup and popped it in her mouth. Tall with long raven hair, a snub nose, and sparkling blue eyes, she was a striking combination of pretty and sass. “I don’t get it. You’re fake-dating the hottest guy on campus, and you’re not having sex. You are crazy.”
“We’re friends. It’s nice.”
“What’s nice is the way he fills out his uniform.”
“Can’t disagree with you, but there’s more to him than just being a jock.”
“What?” she sputtered. “Are you actually admitting that you might like him?”
Before I could answer, a tall guy with a slightly graduated Mohawk sauntered to our booth and looked pointedly at Isabella. “Hey,” he said with one of those male chin nods.
She started. “Why, hey . . . there . . . you. I didn’t expect to see you so soon.” She sent me a pleading glance. “Um, this is the guy I was telling you about. From the frat party.”
Oh. Her one-night stand from a few weeks ago. I smiled up at him, noticing his blush. He liked her.
I stuck my hand out, knowing full well Isabella was in a quiet tizzy over there while cramming in her hot dog. She didn’t do repeat performances or speak to her one-night stands again.
“I’m Sunny.” I shook his hand and checked him out. With the buzzed hair and gauges in his ears, he wasn’t her usual. I recalled her explanation earlier of exactly where he was pierced and did my best to keep my eyes off his crotch.
He sent me a warm smile, his teeth white and straight. Tall with plenty of muscle, he looked athletic—of course I would notice. He was hot, especially with his square-cut face and whiskey-colored eyes.
“I’m Ash.”
“You having lunch?” I was filling in the gaps because Isabella was not helping. She was too busy staring a hole through her half-eaten hotdog.
“I was just on my way out actually and wanted to say hi.” He shifted his backpack on his shoulder, his eyes roving back to Isabella.
Hmm. Did I know him? Leland was small, and he was definitely memorable enough that I wouldn’t forget him.
“Are you new here?”
He nodded. “Just transferred in from North Carolina. I don’t know a lot of people yet, but I met Nicole here at the frat party a few weeks back.”
Nicole? I glared at Isabella, but she just chewed faster, cramming fries in and then sucking down her Coke. That little liar.
I glanced back at Ash. “Well, it’s nice to meet you. And I’m from North Carolina too—so yeah.”
He continued to stand there.
And my goodness, my heart couldn’t take it. He didn’t know anyone and here he was being ignored by his one hookup.