Chapter 8

Meryn

After my first classes and one hell of a seminar, I find Weston waiting for me outside the cafeteria. He is sitting with the other football jocks and a few girls, and I hesitate to approach him for a moment.

Won’t his friends laugh if they saw him hanging out with me? Then again, I saw most of them yesterday when I watched his practice game, and the big black-haired Asian dude seems nice. What is his name again? Travis?

“Meryn!” Weston lights up when he sees me and stands up from the bench where he is sitting. In a few short strides, I’m hugged and lifted off the ground by at least two hundred and fifty pounds of quarterback.

My head spins while Weston’s friends whistle in amusement at our display, but I don’t pay them any attention. I’m too shocked that Weston is strong enough to lift my feet off the ground and also a bit disoriented by the proximity. He smells really nice, and I shiver when his lips brush against my ear.

“You need to hug me back, Meryn,” he whispers in a te