“Over in Oceanside Park.”
Her brows bunch. “That’s two towns over. I’m sure we could have found a place near the college.”
“You wait and see. It’s worth the drive. I found it one day when I just needed to escape the frat house.”
“I never took you for a loner.”
I shrug. “Sometimes. The frat can be a little much. Guys and their girls coming and going from the place all hours.”
“I wouldn’t know anything about that,” she says, and I don’t miss the hitch in her voice.
“Believe me, it’s not a place you want to hang out.”
“I never said it was. The only reason I was going there this morning was to cook your breakfast.”
I take a moment to digest her words, the little lost look on her face. What is going on in that pretty head of hers?
“Speaking of your breakfast.” She stares out the window, and doesn’t look at me when she says, “Did you bring your list?”
I reach into my team jacket and hand over a crumpled sheet of paper. She smooths it out, and I cringe. “Sorry about the messy handwriting.”
“So cooking, tidying your room, washing your Jeep…” Her gaze lifts to mine, like she’s totally unimpressed so far.
“When your ankle is better, of course.”
“Of course,” she says all sassy like. She continues to read. “Make your bed every morning. Are you serious? I have early morning classes.”
“Doesn’t have to be first thing in the morning. You can come after classes.”
“How kind of you.” She rolls her eyes. “I guess I’m your maid.” She drops her hand, the sheet of paper on her lap. “I am not wearing a French maid outfit or anything stupid like that.”
“You can wear what you want.”
She glares at me for another second and goes back to reading. “You want us to do our homework together? This is ridiculous, Christian. Why would we do homework together?”
“I’m not asking you to do it, like some of the guys do, but we should do it together in case I need help. You’re smart, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, you are too, so don’t pretend you’re just another dumb jock. You’re anything but.”
I cock my brow. “How do you know that?”
She stiffens. “I just do.” When I stare at her, wanting her to expand on that knowledge, she says, “Girls talk about stuff.”
“Yeah, or maybe you’ve been checking me out.” I have no idea why I enjoy rattling her. Maybe because it pulls her out of her comfort zone, and gets her to loosen up a little. She’s always so serious, so on the straight and narrow—like I should be.
“As if. God, you have such a big ego.”
“Is that what you heard?”
“It’s what I know. Look, I hear things okay. I’m going into law school, and you’re doing a degree in sports management. You’re going to be a professional football player. We don’t have any of the same courses, or anything in common. It’s ridiculous for us to study together, and I couldn’t do your homework even if I wanted to. I know nothing about sports science. I’m not even good in science.”
“I think there might have been a compliment in there,” I laugh.
She shrugs. “Science is hard and we wouldn’t study well together.”
I lean into her, and her chest rapidly rises as she sucks in air, and lets it out quickly, like my closeness somehow affects her. “How would you know that when we know nothing about each other.”
“I just do, and for the record, I hate football.”
Tension arcs between us, and rattles my dick. I lean back, putting a measure of distance between us. “That’s a surprise, considering how much you watch the practices when you run.”
“I do not,” she shoots back. “Wait, if you know that, then it would imply that you watch me.” She puckers her lips and does a little bobblehead thing, looking at me like I’m a rat backed into a corner.
I simply answer with, “Maybe I do,” which totally makes her jaw drop open.
I grin at her and she quickly pulls herself together and gives an unladylike snort. “You’ve got me all wrong. I’m not watching any practices.”
“Because you don’t like football, or because you don’t like me.”
She folds her arms. “Exactly.”
I can’t help but laugh out loud, and I swear to God, everything in me wants to change her mind. But to what end? She’s a good girl who wants to go on to law school, and we live very different lives. I’m not about to pull out all the stops to get her to like me, only to fuck off once college is over, because I’m not a guy who could give her more. Not that she’s looking for more. No, Maize Malone is a girl on a mission, and I don’t think a man, children, or any picket fence play into her future plans, so best I keep things the way they are and let her hate me. I can’t help but wonder what made her all work and no play, though.
We fall quiet, and I tap my thumb on the steering wheel as I listen to the music. Forty-five minutes later, my stomach is grumbling loudly as I pull into the parking lot of Julep Café. I can almost taste the eggs benny now. I unbuckle and she seems a bit hesitant.
“Everything okay?”
“Christian…” she begins and nervously wraps her purse strap around her fingers, and that’s when it hits me.
Shit, making her feel poor, like she’s in a place where she doesn’t belong is the last thing I meant to do. Christ, sometimes I can be a real dick. “This one is on me. I want you to taste the best eggs benny in the world so you’ll be able to replicate them.” She eyes me like she doesn’t believe that for a minute. “This really is about me, and not you. I’m kind of self-centered sometimes.”
That brings a smile to her face. “As long as you know it.”
I laugh
