Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
I suck in a sharp breath before blowing it out and jerking my head into a tight nod. With the upcoming production on campus, my schedule is jampacked, but there’s no other way around it. I need help. And Dr. Holloway is offering it.
“Thank you. I’ll plan to stop by on Tuesday.”
“Excellent. You’ll see, a little extra help will go a long way.”
He’s being really nice about this. Even though I loathe stats with the passion of a thousand burning suns, I’m appreciative of the lifeline he’s throwing me. Plus, I can rub the fact that I’ll be spending a little time alone with our sexy professor—as he likes to refer to him—in Mike’s smug face.
“You obviously don’t understand how terrible I am at the subject,” I joke.
“Have a little faith, Elle. With enough hard work, nothing is impossible.”
It takes effort to rein in my snort.
I certainly hope he’s right about that. Or I’ll be suffering through this class for a second time.
Chapter Two
Carson
“All right, man,” Rowan Michaels says as we cut across campus. “I gotta take off. I’ll catch you later at practice.”
“Yup,” I say with a wave. “See you then.”
Rowan moves in one direction as I head in another toward the English building for my communications class. Since I hate speeches, I put it off freshman, sophomore, and then—much to my advisor’s annoyance—junior year. Now I’m stuck taking it with a bunch of overeager underclassmen. Had I been smart, I would have gotten it out of the way my first year and been done with it.
My gaze coasts over the crowd of people moving across campus. A good number of them look hungover from the previous night’s antics. Around here, Thursday night kicks off the weekend. Even though Western is an academically rigorous school, most of the student body enjoys kicking back and having a good time. I’m not adverse to partying, but I don’t make a habit of getting shitfaced like a lot of my friends and teammates do. Even when I was a freshman, that was never my MO.
My attention gets snagged by every girl that I pass with long, dark hair.
Sure, I could lie and try to convince myself I’m not searching for Elle Kendricks, but what would be the point? I’ve been doing it since she came in last year as a freshman. If I time my trek across campus just right, we’ll run into each other. Timing it ‘just right’ means leaving my house an hour before I actually have to. The couple of minutes I’m in her presence will feed the need for the rest of the day.
Definitely pathetic.
I should stop torturing myself by looking for her around every bend. I’m certainly not doing myself any favors by engaging in this behavior.
From the corner of my eye, a flash of dark hair catches my attention and my head whips in the direction of the mathematics building. Unconsciously, my feet stumble to a halt as my gaze rakes over the length of her body. With her head angled forward, her long locks shield her face like a shiny curtain. That familiar hollowed out sensation takes up residence inside my belly. It’s the same kind of feeling one experiences when constantly denied something they desperately need for survival.
From the pink turtleneck sweater that clings to every slender curve to the black, button-down jean skirt, and the tall, knee-length boots wrapped around her calves, she always looks put together.
Hot.
Sexy.
I really shouldn’t be thinking along those lines, but I can’t help myself. Which is precisely why I go to such great lengths to keep my distance. Being anywhere near Elle is dangerous. Every day, my self-control slips a notch, becoming more of a paper-thin veneer. I’m afraid of what will happen if it continues to fall away. Right now, she has absolutely no idea how I truly feel, and that’s exactly the way it needs to stay.
Her face lifts, and even from the yawning expanse that separates us, I notice her forehead is creased as if something in her world isn’t right.
Turn away, asshole. Don’t you dare say one damn word.
Instead, I shout, “Elle!”
The moment her name leaves my lips, I wince.
Fuck me.
Could I be any more of a glutton for punishment?
Her head snaps up as her gaze scans the thick crowd until it lands on me. I have to steel myself against the electricity attempting to sizzle its way through my nerve endings, making them snap and crackle with life. It’s been like this for as long as I can remember.
Craving the one person you can’t have sucks ass, but there’s nothing to be done about it.
Brayden is my bro. My teammate. And nothing will ever change that.
Not even his little sister.
I spent most of my childhood at the Kendricks’ house. From day one, Bray’s parents welcomed me with open arms and made me feel like I was part of their family. For as long as I can remember, I’ve had a soft spot for Elle. I watched out for her when we were in elementary, middle, and then high school. Somewhere along the way, my feelings changed, morphing into something different. Something stronger. I started to notice things about her that I probably shouldn’t have.