Chapter Three

*Caroline*

Tonight he’s wearing a National Championship long-sleeved navy shirt that clings to his biceps. I think about the skin under that shirt, those granite-hard abs he works so hard on. The posters plastered around campus showcase every inch of him.

My eyes move down, taking in the dark jeans encasing long muscular legs.

Oh, just stop already!

F’ing hot.

F’ing asshole.

My libido frosts over when I see who’s with him.

On either side are two gorgeous girls with varied shades of blonde hair. They’re everything I’m not: tall, skinny, beautiful. My throat tightens at the perfection of them, and for a second I want to run out of here, but I hold steady. I’ve had three months to prepare, and I’m tough. I CAN DO THIS.

Yeah, but you can’t compete with that, a mean voice whispers in my head.

Applause breaks out inside the bar. Noah lifts a hand and mimics a Miss America wave, his full, carnal lips tugging up in a slow smile that grows, becoming broader and wider. Dude could be a fucking toothpaste model. I swear I hear a gasp from every female in the room. The effect of his mouth is positively infectious. If he were a preacher, he’d be saving souls left and right.

I roll my eyes.

He’s with Dillon McQueen, the backup quarterback, and several other players.

“Oh, yay, the team is back on campus. Let’s celebrate. Yippee,” I mumble to myself as a girl in a Buckeyes shirt nearly mows me down in her quest to get to them.

“I know, right?” She stops next to me, stars in her eyes. “Noah is just…gorgeous, right?”

My lips flatten. “Totes.”

She licks her lips, her eyes darting from him to me. “Wait…did you date him?”

“No.”

“You sure? Now that I think about it, I've always heard him speaking about you. It's never anything great but so—”

“We never dated,” I practically spit.

We've never even had a civil coversation. Everything that comes out of that mans mouth towards me has been nothing but pure evil. The ONLY time he's ever been remotely nice to me was when he caught me hiding in the gym. Back against the wall and sobbing my eyes out. 

I heard the gym doors creek open and the direct eye contact seared me to my soul. When he realized I was already crying he turned around and left. He took a break on the bullying for the next week.

“That was a banging party though. Glad you came,” I say with a bright smile, keeping my turbulent feelings under lock and key.

She’s not even listening anymore though, her gaze on Blaze and friends. “Yeah. Who are those girls he’s with? You think I have a shot?”

Thetas. The taller one on the right with the slinky scarlet and grey dress—school colors, of course—honey-colored hair, and blinding red lipstick is the one he escorted all over campus in November and December. Dani. On the nights when my brain wouldn't shut off and all I could think of was hi, I stalked his i*******m like a crazy person. She posted them everywhere they went.

“Dani is the one on the right. She’s…uh…with him a lot,” I tell the girl, my voice carefully even.

I’m doing good. I really am. Much better than last fall. I can think about him without obsessing over why he hates me and what I should do to fix it.

I don’t know the girl on the left, but she’s beautiful, her white-blonde hair straight and silky. Like Dani, she’s dressed in a low-cut, skimpy dress—nothing wrong with that. I have a plethora of low-cut dresses, and I’ve been known to flaunt what I have. Hello, mohair dress.

“Candy with an ‘i’, Jess says, offering her name, and I guess I must have asked for it. She knows everyone on campus.

My eyes widen at my bestfriend. “Dani and Candi? Stop it. Are they related?”

“Nope. Just Thetas. Nice, right?”

“Flipping fantastic,” I mutter.

In typical college fashion, there’s raging competition between us and the Thetas. They’re the beautiful, rich, party girl sorority while Chi-Os are known for being brainy and attractive in a warm, fuzzy kind of way.

“They’re like…pretty, sleek greyhounds,” Jess says with a little growl, her gaze on the girls.

“Guess that makes us adorable spaniels,” I say and Jess laughs.

Random Girl gives us a wary look, and I realize I’d forgotten she was standing there.

“Ignore us. You should totally take a shot at Noah if micro-penises are your thing.” The words, again, are devoid of emotion. I am over him. I swear. The fact that my chest is heavy right now does not matter. Not one bit.

“Micro-penis?” Her eyes flare.

“It’s a joke,” I say dryly. “Go get him. Please.” As in, please get out of my sight because I can’t say one more word about him.

She gives me a weird look and then a rushed bye as she heads their way.

The entire place is still whistling and cheering. The applause goes on for an absurdly long time, and my body grows stiffer with each passing moment.

“Hope you don't get an STI,” I murmur.

Forget facing him. I’d rather touch a hundred wolf spiders on my pillow while having a root canal with no anesthesia than see him with Dani.

I snatch up my purse and try to figure out the best path out of the bar without catching Noah's eye. I scan the room as I break down how to get through the crowd and reach the emergency exit near the restrooms. Sure, the alarm will go off, but who’d notice with all the happy times going on?

A warm tingle goes down my neck, and I freeze. Moving slowly, I turn my head and look back in his direction.

Yeah. He’s found me. Cold blue eyes tangle with my Green ones, and all those pep talks I gave myself on the drive over flee my mind.

The crowd falls away, and it’s just me and him in the room. Three months since we were face to face, yet it feels like a million years since I saw him.

For some reason, my mind goes back to that night senior year of highschool at the toga party, the one he and I never discussed, those long passionate kisses and how electrifying they were. His mouth on mine was like falling and flying at the same time. 

To much alcohol and feeling bad over myself, I decided to walk home. Noah passed and was decent for once in his life, asked if I needed a ride home. One thing lead to another and then we shed our clothes. 

When he dropped me at home, I'll never forget the words he said to me while walking to my front door.

"Hey Care, thanks for helping me win my bet. The guys are going to be pissed you actually put out, now they owe me $500."

I haven’t kissed a man on the mouth since, and I never will again. 

Hell of a way to lose your virginity.

I vowed that day to never let someone break me down the way he has.

“Never breaking my rules again,” I mutter under my breath, my gaze lingering on the curve of his lips.

Darkness flits across his face as he takes me in, not a normal expression for him, and the air grows hot around me. The seconds tick by as he pauses, drops his waving hand, and searches my face. A scowl appears on his brow, crinkling his forehead. Icy eyes glitter at me, long and hard, gazing over the heads of the people jostling to get close to him. My hand holding the glass trembles.

Do not be affected by the intensity of those eyes. Don’t. You. Dare.

Right.

Maybe it’s the tequila finally kicking in or the painful new shoes or the fact that my skin is itchy as hell and probably beet red as well underneath the mohair, but something insane hits, and I give him my own Miss American wave—only it’s really a one-finger salute. It’s a whole new level of juvenile, completely childish and revealing. I’m bitter, it screams.

I hate you is scrawled across my face.

Same is what he’s thinking if the tightening of his lips is anything to go on

Twin spots of pink hit his cheekbones, and a muscle in his jaw pops. He watches me, his face carved from marble, expressionless, but underneath I sense something deeper, almost there on the surface, but he keeps it hidden. Yeah, that’s the thing with him; on the surface, he appears carefree and loose, but below is a lake, still and deep.

I'd love to dive in those waters and destory him from the inside out like he did with me.

A few seconds later, he blinks rapidly, looks away, and pushes through the crowd.

Bye, asshole.

The two girls tag along, a matching set, two pretty bookends.

Jess talks out of the side of her mouth. “Was that rude gesture really necessary? Remember our relationship with the football players. I know you and Noah have had issues, but we still want them at our parties. We have to keep up with the Thetas—”

“Trust me, that was barely even anything. I’m restraining myself.” New me doesn't put up with the bullshit anymore, new me would of walked over and demanded to know why he slept with me and told me he was in love with me for a bet.

Only…

I just…couldn’t. I have my pride, and he has her.

She huffs. “True. I recall a baseball player you kicked in the shin freshman year.”

“He also put his hands down my pants when I clearly said no, Madame President. FTS.” Fuck that shit.

She gets quiet beside me. “Seriously, I never understood what happened between you and Noah—”

My chest fills as I inhale. “He bullied me, was nice one night. We slept together and then he revealed it was for a bet. That’s it.”

I watch as his frame maneuvers through the throng of people. Several clap him on the back, and I even see one girl smack his ass and giggle. He reaches back and gives her a kiss on the cheek, and my hands clench as anger rushes to the surface.

Such. A. Womanizer.

I never should have trusted myself with someone so…so alpha.

Normally, I choose nice guys, sweet and quiet, ones I can easily control. I never let them get too close. When you grow up with a dad who cheats on your mom, when you actually see him kiss another woman, you learn to protect yourself.

I flinch. He’s changed directions, and he’s headed straight for our table. There’s a determined set to his face, and my heart pounds, each passing second stretching and tugging at me until I’m breathless and damn near panting. I lick my lips and pat my hair, smoothing my dress with my hands. Dang—it’s still soaked.

He halts in front of us.