Camryn Quinn is finally getting what she wants...sort of. Moving into a dorm and away from her not so supportive father is a good first step, but like everything with him, it comes with strings. She must attend the college of his choosing for at lea...
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I shove my bagel between my teeth as a holding spot as I reach for the door handle, but someone else beats me to it. The shuffle of his feet sends his backpack rattling as he hurries to hold it open for me. I recognize him from one of my classes, but I've never actually talked to him.
"Hey...you're in my bio class, right?" he asks before I have the chance to give a polite thanks and move on.
I nod, pulling the bagel from my mouth to give a tentative hi.
He's handsome in a boyish way with his jet black hair and a gold chain against his tanned skin. His features are soft, but somehow sharp at the same time.
"Beau Baker," he offers, reaching out his hand. I take it and smile. "Now feels like the time to confess that I actually sit behind you because you seem to know the answer to all the clicker questions." The smile he flashes me is full of perfectly straight and white teeth.
"So in other words, you wait to see what number I press and then cheat," I tease and give a smile in return.
"I can't help where my eyes wander!" He throws his hands up in surrender, finally letting the open door close.
I begin to commend him on his anonymity when Taylor approaches in my periphery.
"Hey Cap. You ready to rip out some alternative hypothesis?" Taylor ignores Beau and wraps a palm around my wrist, using the contact to drag me into the building with him.
And for a full five seconds, we're back inside our own little world. Every single noise surrounding us is muted. It's just me and him, and that connection between us that always tugs me into his orbit.
I don't even bother with another word to Beau as Taylor leads me away from that open door. It's Taylor who brings him up when we're settling into our assigned room.
"So baseball boy, huh?"
I have no clue what he's talking about, or at least that's what I'm going to claim if he continues to push the matter. Beau might play baseball, but I wouldn't know. And I don't care to find out. He's cute, but not my type and I don't want to set myself up for that conversation. The last thing I need is to list off attributes that might as well form an arrowhead pointing straight to Taylor.
That's the real conversation I want to avoid. We haven't talked about our almost kiss, or the pseudo-foreplay on the line dance floor that paved the path for it.
But he drops it, slinging his things down before doing the same with himself.
My cheeks puff out as I blow out a breath. "We need to finish your lit paper so we can get a head start on the next one since you're going to be traveling more now."
Taylor gives a salute, and delves right into typing on his laptop. It's alarming, considering he's never once willingly completed schoolwork without at least some sort of bickering.
