King of Campus

Hence me finding out where Ivy was this afternoon.

I also took the opportunity to do a little more digging into the Finn McKenzie situation. I was decidedly unhappy to learn that they were together for about six months before he dumped her ass while she was in France. Clearly he’s looking to patch things up with her.

Am I bothered by this newly gleaned information?

Yeah… I think I actually am. But mostly because I can’t stand that prick. The guy is a major asshole. And a huge player.

Which, yeah… I understand how maybe that could come off sounding a bit hypocritical, but still... When I hook up with a girl, I’m completely clear about my intentions. It’s a onetime deal. I’m not in the market for a girlfriend. I have way too much going on. Which in no way means that I don’t enjoy getting laid with a fair amount of frequency. It just means I don’t want the aggravation of having a girl whining at me about what I’m doing, where I’m going, and that I’m not spending enough quality time with her. I don’t have time for that bullshit. I have to stay focused on football and school.

But Finn… I’ve heard some not-so-good things about that dude. He dates girls and then screws around on the side. Now that, I have zero respect for. If you want to nail anything that moves, anytime you want, then don’t have a girlfriend. It’s as simple as that.

Not knowing what else to say, I shove my hands into my pockets. “So, you ready to head out?”

Looking conflicted, she doesn’t move a muscle. There’s just a hint of confusion written across her features as if she’s not quite sure she should take me up on my offer. And the fact that I kissed her in the elevator last night probably isn’t helping matters either.

Neither one of us say a word as our gazes continue to hold. My breath catches. It’s so quiet I can almost hear the clock on the wall ticking. Apparently deciding I’m an acceptable mode of transportation, she finally nods her head. “Yeah, just let me grab my bag and we can go.”

Unable to help myself, my eyes slide appreciatively over her body as she turns away from me. A few seconds later, she’s jogging over to the corner of the studio where her bag is lying against the wall. She slips off her black ballet shoes before pulling on an oversized t-shirt and pair of leggings. Sliding her feet into a pair of shoes, she then shoves the ballet shoes into her bag.

I seriously can’t believe how hot this girl is. And watching her dance just now… yeah, that only kicks it up like a hundred more notches. Unfortunately, I have a semi-aroused situation going on in my jeans. God forbid I actually stiffen all the way up while we’re walking out of here. Somehow I doubt Ivy would be flattered by my lust. She’d probably refuse to ride back to the apartment with me.

So I try focusing on things that are in no way related to Ivy… or dancing…. or long caramel colored hair… or skintight leotards.

Damn it.

Instead I focus on the season opener we played yesterday. I think about the arms and chest workout I need to run through tonight. I think about the time consuming business ethics project Ivy and I need to start working on.

Hmmm.

That only has me thinking about spending more time with Ivy.

Which has me thinking about her long lean body.

And those freaking splits she did midair.

Fuck… I bet she’s limber as hell.

Yep, now I really need to shift my junk around. This isn’t good at all.

As we’re walking out, the woman who greeted me when I first came into the studio looks like she’s getting ready to close up for the day.

“Bye, Donna, I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

“Bye, honey.” Donna’s eyes shift to me before giving me a saucy little wink. “And it was certainly nice meeting you, Roan. Good luck with the rest of your season.” Her eyes swing speculatively between us.

I give her a wave in acknowledgement. “Thanks, nice to meet you, too.”

And then we’re pushing through the front door into the bright sunshine. Even though I picked her up so we could get right to work, that idea doesn’t necessarily appeal to me at the moment. Noticing the smoothie shop right across the street, I point towards it. “You want a smoothie or something? You must be hungry after all that.”

I sure as hell know how I feel after working out. Fucking famished.

She pauses, her gaze sliding to the vibrant yellow and orange shop across the street before arrowing right back to mine. Just when I think she’ll agree, she shakes her head instead.

But I know she wants one. As soon as I mentioned the word smoothie, her green eyes lit up with interest. “Are you sure?” I cajole, “Because I could seriously go for a pomegranate and berry one.” Now that I’m actually saying the words out loud, I realize just how true they are. I really could go for a smoothie right about now. It would be the perfect pick me up before heading to the library for a few hours.