Seven |Leia Welsh|

I let out a loud sigh as I finally finish all my classes, Ari and I trudge into the student union, the fluorescent lights glaring overhead and the smell of burnt coffee assaulting our noses.

I groan, looking over at Ari with a yawn. "Ah, the joys of college dining," I mutter, staring at the other students.

We make our way over to the muffin display, where Henson is already waiting, his oversized glasses perched on his nose and a smug look on his face.

I can practically feel the eye roll coming on as he starts babbling about the nutritional benefits of blueberries.

"Interesting facts" I mutter under my breath, grabbing a chocolate chip muffin and ignoring his ramblings.

As we sit down at a table, Henson launches into a diatribe about the history of muffins, completely oblivious to the fact that I'm losing my mind.

I can't help but snort with laughter as he launches into a detailed analysis of the muffin's crumb structure.

Suddenly, Henson turns to me, his eyes narrowing.

"You know, you really should try the bran muffin. It's much healthier than that sugar bomb you're eating."

I raise an eyebrow, "Oh, thanks for the tip, Doctor Parker. I'll be sure to consult you for all my dietary needs from now on."

Ari stifles a laugh, trying to hide her amusement as Henson sputters in indignation.

I lean back in my chair, staring at him. "You know, Henson, I think we've found your true calling. Forget business, you should become a muffin connoisseur."

He glares at me.

"Anything new happen?" Ari asks, her serene eyes locked on me as she takes a sip of her pumpkin spice latte.

I tap my left foot on the floor as I dart my eyes to all the students in the area.

I know I shouldn't lie to my best friend, but the truth about being the assistant coach for the men's hockey team is a secret I'm not quite ready to share yet.

Ari has a way of probing into things, asking a million questions that I'm not prepared to answer. And if she finds out, I know she'll tell Miranda, who will undoubtedly swoop in and mother me to death.

The thought of Miranda fussing over me makes me cringe. I can already picture her showing up on campus and dragging me out of class by the ear.

Jorge would probably find it amusing. He'd likely say something like, 'About time, I didn't raise no wimp.'

"No, nothing."

Ari raises her eyebrows. "Nothing? Really?"

"Yep. Nothing. Nada. Zilch." I say back, trying to convince her that nothing has happened. I'm lying.

"Are you sure?" she asks again.

I nod. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure I know what's been happening in my life."

"Hey, did you know that there's a hockey party tonight?" Ari switches the subject, taking a bite of her muffin.

"Really?" I try to look shocked, but let's be real, they probably throw a party or attend a party every night.

"Yep. Everyone's going, and I think you should come too. Maybe you will meet someone who isn't an asshole." she laughs.

"I doubt that." I say, rolling my eyes as I remember Warren.

His touch is almost engraved into my skin, his eyes, deep and dark, and he smelled good. The guy is so persistent though, although I know he will change his mind later today.

I shake my head and start eating my food. That's another thing I haven't told Ari about and a gnawing feeling creeps up my spine.

"Come on! It'll be fun!" she says, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

I bite the inside of my cheek. "I'm not going, I have homework." I'm lying again.

"You're such a nerd!"

"And proud of it!" I stick my tongue out at her.

"You are impossible." she sighs, shaking her head.

I smile and stand up. "I have to go sign up for a study group, I'll see you later."

She waves goodbye, while Henson continues reading the nutritional back of the juice box he bought, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

I throw my trash away, making sure to separate the recyclables from the regular trash, because saving the planet is important, right?

I hold the door for some random guy who nods at me, looking grateful for the small gesture. My good deed for the day is done.

I leave the Student Union and walk out into the scorching heat. It's barely four, and practice starts at six. But I couldn't keep sitting there lying to Ari right in her face.

I walk alongside campus, feeling the sweat start to form on my forehead. I scroll through my phone, noticing the missed call from Miranda.

I bite my lip, debating whether to call her back and come up with yet another excuse for why I didn't answer her call. Lies, Lies, Lies.

Once I get to the main part of the campus where students are gathered talking around and walking to their classes, my eyes find their way to Kohl Warren. He doesn't seem to notice me, but I notice him.

He's smiling down at a blonde girl, but the smile doesn't meet his eyes. I watch as the girl grazes her hand against his arm and I see a soft smile grace his lips.

He leans in close and says something that makes her giggle. Why am I staring?

I don't even know this man, nor do I care. The girl soon walks away, and Warren turns his gaze, finding mine.

His eyes flickering between shades of blue that mirror the changing weather. I pretend not to notice as he makes his way over to me, which in return makes me walk the other way.

I can feel him behind me and he's close enough that if I just reach my hand out, he will be in my grasp.

"Can I help you?" I ask him, turning to look up at him. His face is blank, but his eyes are still filled with a look that I can't describe.

"Yes, you can actually. Can you enlighten me as to why you have been staring at me and have now taken it upon yourself to try and avoid me?" His voice is deep, smooth, and rich.

His black hair falls across his forehead and his smile lines appear when he sees me gulp, the gulp is probably so loud that the whole campus can hear it.

Why am I getting butterflies? Must be because I haven't had sex in so long. No other reason.

"I wasn't staring." I reply, taking a step back, but he only takes a step forward. His height has my neck straining just to look up at those gorgeous pairs of cobalt blue eyes.

It's like he's seeing right through me, and every part of me hates that, except the insane part of me that wants his eyes to stay on every aspect of my body.

Am I bipolar? Not even hours ago was I disgusted by him, but now my body is betraying me? What is this?

"I was." he whispers.

He's impossible, it's almost a wonder how athletes can even play when they've got egos bigger than their stats.

"What do you want?" I ask, trying to keep my composure.

I know what he wants, I just want him to stop staring at me like he's undressing me with his eyes. His eyes linger a little on my chest before my lips, and then back at my eyes.

"For you to stare at me more often." he says smiling down at me, his teeth perfectly white. "And you know what I want, its sex"

I feel a laugh escape my lips. I can't believe he said that with a straight face. "Well sorry to burst your bubble, but I'm not going to have sex with you. Now can you please move so I can leave? I have things to do."

"So do I. With you."

I don't know why I find his confidence so gross yet so irresistible; it should gross me out right now but somehow it makes me want to continue talking to him.

He's bold, and straight forward, and I like straight forward but I also don't want what he wants. He wants sex, I know deep down I want to explore every inch of that god-like body, but I can't, and I won't.

"Wow, you really are confident. But the answer is no, so goodbye." I turn on my heel and start walking.

"It was a yes last time!" he calls out, causing me to stop. I turn around and look at him.

He's leaning against the light post, one leg crossed over the other and his arms crossed. His black shirt clings to his chest and his pants hang low on his hips.

I feel a lump in my throat as he stares me down and it turns me on, but I shove those desires down.

"That wasn't a yes, all I said was wait until the end of the day," I watch as his eyes darken "Again, That. Wasn't. A. Yes." I emphasize each word.

He smiles "Maybe it's me," he walks up to me and leans down, his lips just barely touching mine.

I don't know if it's the insane part of my brain or the fact that he's just so damn attractive, but I feel my body respond to him.

"It's definitely not me," he whispers, and my stomach flutters.

I can tell he knows exactly what he's doing to me. I take a step back and his eyes find mine. I see the same confusion and lust in his eyes that I feel in myself.

I turn around and head to The Walcott Dorms, but not before calling out to him. "We still aren't going to have sex."

"Maybe, maybe not." he calls out.

I continue to walk towards my dorm. There are people staring at me gossiping. I'm not listening though. All I can think about is the man whose eyes were so full of lust and how his lips looked so damn delicious.

And his veiny hands? It's confirmed, I'm like one of those book girls who obsess over biker boys, except my image of a biker boy is Kohl Warren, who indeed does not have a motorcycle, or so I think.