“Thanks again for covering for me this weekend,” I said as Chessly and I walked to the dorm supervisor’s apartment for our weekly RA meeting. “I had no idea Homecoming was such a big deal.”
My friend shot me an “are you for real?” side-eye, but all she said was, “You’re welcome.” We walked a bit in silence, then “How was the after-party?”
“Pretty much the same as the one last week at Callahan’s. Loud music and dancing in the living room, nasty keg beer and a flip cup tournament in the kitchen, cornhole in the back yard.”
“I heard something this morning at breakfast about Tory Miller causing a scene with you. You wanna be careful with that girl, Jamaica,” Chess warned.
“He shut her down, and we left before she could start in again.” I sighed. “But you’re right.” I decided I needed her perspective. “She has a thing for Callahan—one he’s never reciprocated.”
With a tilt of her head, Chess gazed at me from beneath her brows. “As far as you know.”
“He told me she stalked him at a frat party last spring. They kissed in a hallway for a few minutes—she initiated it—and one of the other football players intervened and hauled him out of there.” I shifted my notebook to my other hand. “From the way he acts around her now, I believe him.”
“It’s not him I’m worried about.”
“So, sweetheart, did you have the best time at Homecoming?” Across the table in the union for our usual coffee date, Axel grinned his cheekiest grin. “The way Callahan couldn’t quit sneaking glances at you all during class this morning, I have the idea he had a good time.”
“Quit fishing, you old gossip.” I sipped my latte with a serenity I was far from feeling.
Feeling Hotshot’s warm body pressed along mine for as much as the seats in the lecture hall allowed had thrown me right off my game this morning. I had so many questions for Dr. Dair concerning the reading I spent all of yesterday afternoon doing, and I forgot them all when my pussy went into happy Kegels from Callahan’s nearness. Between that and Chessly’s warnings about a certain mean girl, I barely even took any notes during Dair’s lecture.
“You make a striking pair, what with your dark hair to his light, your toned curves to his hard football player body.” He pulled at the collar of his shirt, fanning himself. “Seriously, J. You two walk into a room and everyone stares.”
I slumped in my chair. “You’re such a drama queen, Axel. I don’t know why I put up with you sometimes.”
Reaching across the table, he covered my hand with his. “Because I’m your oldest and bestest friend. And because you know I’m always on your team.” Giving my hand a tiny squeeze, he added, “Now we’re friends with benefits.” At my raised brow, he clarified. “I have the added benefit of hanging out with the big men on campus—and the best seats in the house on game day. You have a wingman who makes sure you understand your man’s game and who’s watching your back at parties.”
I snorted. “Like you did last week when you and Drake ditched me and left me to spend the night at Callahan’s place?”
His shrug was not apologetic. “He was going out of his way to make it obvious to you and everyone else that he has a thing for you. Drake and I agreed you needed a nudge to stop being so stubborn and acknowledge it.” He smirked. “Seems like it worked. You two barely spent any time at all at Fitz’s party the other night before Callahan dragged you out the door. From what Chess says, you didn’t come home until midmorning yesterday.” Clearing his throat, he added, “She saw you kissing in the front of Callahan’s truck. You sported a satisfied smile on your face and didn’t even say hello as you walked through the lobby to your room.”
I wrinkled my nose at my friend. “Add spying to gossiping. I should speak to Drake about keeping you more occupied.”
His rich laughter flowed over me. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that, J. Drake keeps me plenty busy.” Then he sobered. “I want that for you too, Jamaica. Of all the people I know, you most deserve that kind of happiness.”
A cloud fell over his features.
“What?” I asked, alarm and suspicion warring for the front of the line of my emotions.
“After you guys left Fitz’s party after that little scene Tory Miller tried to start, that girl said some choice words about you. Finn and Bax shut her down before she could do any serious damage with the other players on the team, but she’s a snake.” After a thoughtful sip of his coffee, he added, “Drake and I always have your back. Now it seems Callahan’s roommates do too. But you still need to pay attention. From what I saw, she’s posting some nasty shit about you. Stay far away from that girl.”
“Can we talk about something more pleasant, like your notes from Dr. Dair’s class today? I seem to have zoned out a bit and missed a few things.” My face grew hot at the admission.
Mercifully, Axel only smirked without commentary as he passed his iPad across the table. When I pulled out my notebook, to my horror, I saw that I only had about a fifth of the information in my notes that he had in his.
“Shall I walk you through those?”
I might have snarled at the oh-so-innocent batting of his eyes, yet I had no choice but to accept his help since none of the information in front of me was familiar at all. Obviously, I sat in class this morning, but it was as though I’d skipped it from what I got out of it.
“I can’t decide which part is more fun—you needing to hear the basics of the lecture again or remembering the funny looks Dair kept throwing at you every time he left a tiny pause for your questions that never came.” His grin was pure evil. “You’ve got it bad, Jamaica Winslow. About time you met someone who makes you forget the rest of the world exists.”
“Gah! It’s not like that. It’s not like when you met Drake.” With a sigh, I nodded toward his notes. “Can we go over these, please? I have to be at the sweet shop in half an hour.”
“It’s exactly like when I met Drake.”
I wrinkled my nose and he roared with laughter. Crossing my arms over my chest, I gave him a long-suffering glare, which only made him laugh harder.
“Would you knock it off? People are staring.”
Swiping at his eyes, he giggled a bit more and finally wrestled himself under control enough to talk me through what I’d missed in class.
Work was slower than a typical late Monday afternoon, which gave me lots of opportunity to work on homework. If only my mind would stop straying to a certain football player and what I’d been doing with him all through Saturday night… When I returned to the dorms after I finished my shift, I looked at my calendar and saw I’d wasted a chance to read ahead to be better prepared for Dr. Dair on Wednesday.
Then as I reread a passage of Pride and Prejudice for the third or fourth time, Axel’s words came back to bite me on the ass. “About time you met someone who makes you forget the rest of the world exists.” The way I saw it, the timing couldn’t be worse. Meeting that someone after I became an established lawyer fit right into my plans. Meeting him when I was a junior in college who needed top grades to qualify for law-school scholarships? Not so much.
“We’re only fooling around,” I whispered to myself. “It’s nothing serious.”
Needing to give my mind a break, I grabbed a stack of sheet music from the cubby on the side of my desk and headed to the piano room in the basement of the dorm. At least I could work through some homework for the piano class I adored. Plus, concentrating on the music would take my mind away from the incredible night I’d shared with Hotshot.
As usual, I lost myself in the music the minute I sat down at the keyboard. After warming up with a few arpeggios and scales, I set to work on the Rachmaninoff piece I was working on. For the most part, I had it down, but there were a couple of tricky passages I wanted to perfect before my next class. Pulling a pencil from behind my ear, I marked some notes and nearly tore a hole in the page when the deep rumble of Callahan’s voice interrupted my concentration.
“Hotshot?” I squeaked. “How the hell are you here?”
“We finished practice early, so I dropped by to see if you wanted to go out for ice cream.” He looked lickable with his backward hat, his casual hoodie, and his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans.
I was still trying to force my breathing back under control. “The desk clerk didn’t just let you roam around until you found me here,” I accused.
“Nah.” He grinned. “Chessly saw you headed this way and walked me here.”
“How long have you been standing there?” I stuffed my pencil back behind my ear and turned sideways on the bench.
“Long enough to hear you’ve hidden some things about yourself from me.” Stepping closer to the piano, he asked, “How is it you’re majoring in English and pre-law rather than music? You’re fucking talented.”
My face heated at his compliment. “In high school I took music classes and briefly entertained a music career until I remembered I didn’t want to work multiple low-wage jobs in order to eat while I followed my muse.”
“That’s a damn shame. I don’t know much about music, but I know what sounds good. Your playing is stunning. Will you play me something?”
For some reason, the idea of playing privately for Callahan made my stomach fizz with nerves. Several times in my life I’d played recitals in front of a hundred people, yet I never wanted to impress any of them as much I wanted to impress him. With a nod followed by a deep breath, I returned to the piece in front of me and began to play.
After a few bars, I somehow managed to forget he was in the room as the music carried me into a romantic fantasy of sound I could never describe in words. It was only as I held down the last note, letting the sustain pedal drag it out into the ether, that Callahan’s clean, masculine scent washed over me, alerting me to the fact he stood directly behind me.
“Jesus, Jamaica,” he whispered. “I’ve never heard anything so beautiful in my life.” He stood beside the bench and pointed to the open space beside me. “May I?”
With a ghost of a shrug I said, “Sure.”
He took up more than half the bench, the heat of his body warming my entire left side and reminding me of the dearth of heat in the mostly forgotten room.
“How long have you been playing?”
“Since second grade.”
“Impressive. My sister started lessons in second grade too, but she’s not even close to your league.” The expression in his eyes was one of sincerity—and something like pride.
I have no idea what possessed me to blurt out my life story, but before I could stop myself, it came pouring out. “I grew up with a single mom who worked long shifts in the truck-stop diner, which meant I learned early on how to entertain myself.” I plucked at a few keys. “It also meant I spent long days at school. One day, my elementary music teacher caught me trying to work out a song on the piano when I should have been in the after-school program. Instead of escorting me back, he sat down beside me and started teaching me.”
“Guess he saw your talent early,” Callahan said with a smile.
When he didn’t judge me, I continued. “By the end of sixth grade, I could play Beethoven and Bach with proficiency. Mr. Munari even invited me to play solos during our music programs for our parents. Mom couldn’t afford lessons, of course, but Mr. Munari said someone with my talent and interest shouldn’t be denied a chance to learn based on money.” Sneaking a glance at him from the corner of my eye, I noted he still had that smile on his face—one that said he was enjoying himself.
“The wonderful thing I discovered about attending a liberal arts college was that I could pick up general credits in any field, which meant more piano lessons that my academic scholarship pays for. Spending hours at the piano is necessary rather than recreational.”
He frowned. “Why do you have to justify it? As good as you are, you should play all the time if you want.”
Snorting out a laugh, I said, “Indulging my hobby won’t get me into law school, Hotshot.” I gathered up my music, stacking it neatly, and closed the lid on the piano. “I think you mentioned something about ice cream?”
The disappointment on his face was almost comical. “You’re done? Are you sure you don’t need to practice something else? I promise I’ll sit so quietly you won’t even know I’m here.”
“What time is it?”
He checked his phone. “Quarter after nine.”
“I’ve been down here for two hours already. That’s enough for today.” Rising from the bench, I indicated he should stand too, and I pushed it into place beneath the keyboard.
When we reached my room, I turned to him before I unlocked the door. “You came over to take me out for ice cream. There will be no shenanigans. Understood?”
He saluted me with one hand. “Scout’s honor.”
But I noticed his other hand behind his back, and I could almost see his crossed fingers. With narrowed eyes, I unlocked my door and walked into my room. “I’ll just grab a sweatshirt—”
In one quick move, he pushed me against the wall and cut off my words when he sealed his mouth to mine. Damn. The man’s mouth was pure magic, stealing all my strength and good intentions with a single press of his firm lips on mine. Of their own volition, my arms twined around his thick neck, and I mashed my front to the rock-hard planes of his chest as I sank into his kiss. Before long, our tongues tangled, our breathing labored, and my ankle anchored over his hip as he squeezed and kneaded my ass.
At last, I tore my mouth from his. Panting, I said, “I thought we established there would be no shenanigans.”
“Correction, that was your idea.”
“But you saluted.”
His grin was positively wicked. “I had my fingers crossed.”
I pushed at his chest. “I knew it! I saw how you kept one hand behind your back.”
Sliding out from beneath his arms where he’d caged me in by the wall, I snagged my hoodie off the chair and tugged it over my head. Fluffing out my hair, I said, “You promised ice cream.”
He smirked. “I’d rather lick you.”
My knees snapped together as heat flooded my core. “You are unbelievable.”
“Believe me, Island Girl.” His eyes darkened. “I know how delicious you are.”
The desire in his eyes was almost palpable, and I sucked in a breath. “Ice cream.”
“Yeah, all right.” He made a show of adjusting the front of his jeans. “I did promise you ice cream.”
As I watched him, I might have whimpered, and he shot me a sexy, knowing leer. I grabbed my phone and stuffed it in my pocket along with my wallet and headed for the door.
The ice-cream shop was only a block down the street from my dorm. We walked the distance in silence, though we kept stealing glances and bumping shoulders and slipping each other little grins. When we arrived, Callahan shot me the naughtiest of all naughty smirks and ordered a double cherry vanilla cone, which he made a show of licking long and slow, followed by shallow little touches of his tongue to the treat. With superhuman effort, I suppressed the moan that tried to escape as he carried on with his antics. But I couldn’t stop myself from crossing my legs, clamping them together hard as a mini-orgasm threatened low in my belly.
At last, he gave me a reprieve. Kinda. Instead of teasing me with his tongue on his ice cream, he asked, “Do you ever play concerts?”
I snorted a laugh. “Hardly. When I was in high school, I played some recitals.” Spooning a bite of pistachio deliciousness, I swallowed and added, “As part of my current class, I have to work something up for a recital as my piano final.”
“Yeah? Is it public? Can anyone attend?”
Ducking my chin, I frowned. “Are you saying you want to attend a piano recital?”
His brows went up. “After I gave you tickets to watch me play football, are you saying you won’t invite me to watch your recital?” Though his tone was playful, I thought I detected a touch of hurt edging it.
“All music recitals are public.” I gave him a cheeky smile. “And they’re free, but you have to arrive early if you want good seats.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” In two large bites, he finished off his cone. “Do you have a piano at home?”
“Single mom. Waitresses in a diner, remember?” Not wanting to see his judgment, I stared at my spoon as I scraped the last taste of ice cream from the paper cup.
“So how do you play in the summer?”
Of all the people I didn’t want to judge me, the gorgeous man in front of me topped the list. When I glanced up, I saw only genuine curiosity in his expression.
As though it were no big deal, I shrugged even as my heart raced in my chest. “One of my piano instructors helped me land a position as a counselor at a summer music camp for teens. It sure as hell beat working split shifts as a barista at a coffee kiosk and desk-clerking at a local hotel like I’d done through the summers in high school.” I caught his raised brow. “My mom wouldn’t let me work at the diner.” I wiped my mouth with my napkin and enjoyed the way his eyes tracked my motion.
“Why wouldn’t your mom let you work at the diner?”
“Didn’t want me to end up like her, I guess.”
“Meaning what?”
Glancing out the window, I said, “Working at the summer camp is fun. The kids are all super-talented, so I hear a ton of great music. Plus, the camp counselors put on a concert at the end, and that’s always a blast.”
He peered at me through narrowed eyes. “Are the other counselors all girls too?”
I kind of choke-snorted at his obvious fishing. “It’s a co-ed camp, Hotshot, so that would be a no.”
Running the pad of his index finger over the top of my hand, he asked, “Did you date any of them?”
“Did you date any of the jersey chasers who follow you around like it’s their job?”
“You already know the answer to that. No.” All four fingers rubbed up and down the back of my hand.
“The first summer, I had a thing with one of them.” Remembering that bad experience soured my ice cream.
“From the look on your face, he wasn’t me.”
Callahan’s cockiness cracked me up. “No, he wasn’t.” Sobering, I added, “His problem was he liked all the counselors. Turns out he was sleeping with me, another girl from a cabin across the camp, and his roommate.”
“Was his roommate a guy?”
“Yep. A real drama queen who outed him to both of us girls. The other girl was fine with it.”
“But you weren’t.”
My eyes caught his and held. “Fidelity matters to me.”
We were quiet for a long moment, then I stood and walked my trash over to the trash can near the door of the shop. Though the place only had five tables in it, we were the last people left. From the looks the guy behind the counter kept throwing us, it was time for us to go.
When we headed back to my place, Hotshot slipped his arm around me and tugged me close to his side. “For the record, I don’t cheat. Ever.”
“Good to know.” I smiled. “Thanks for the ice cream.”
“Thanks for the mini-concert.” He squeezed me closer. “You gonna invite me in?”