She’s always played it safe…
College junior Lucy Washington abides by one rule—avoid risk at all costs. She’s cautious in every aspect of her life, from her health, to her mock trial team, to the boring guys she dates. When a brash, gorgeous jock walks into the campus coffeeshop and turns his flirt on, Lucy is stunned by the force of attraction. For the first time ever, she’s willing to step out of her comfort zone, but can she really trust the guy who’s determined to sweep her off her feet?
He’s always played around…
Entering his last year of college eligibility, linebacker Matthew “Matty” Iverson has the team captaincy in his sights. And it’s his for the taking, if he can convince his quarterback Ace Anderson to give up the starting position. Luckily, Matty already has an edge—the hottie he’s lusting over just happens to be Ace’s childhood best friend. Getting Lucy on his side and in his bed? Hell yeah. Matty is more than confident he can have both, but when he falls hard for Lucy, it’s time for a new game plan: convince the woman of his dreams that she’s not sleeping with the enemy.
A flash of something — irritation, possibly — skips across his face… Maybe he gets this question a lot. “You probably saw me on campus and said to yourself, ‘who is that fine-ass guy and how do I get his number?’ But we were like sliding doors, a missed connection. I read Craigslist. You should’ve reached out.”
Yeah, he’s tired of that question. “Nice story. You sound like a lit major.”
“Sociology, actually. You?”
“What do you plan to do with that? Learn how to take over the world?”
“If I had the responsibility of the world on my shoulders, can you imagine the gale force winds sighs of that kind of stress would generate?”
He stretches his long legs on either side of my own chair. If I fell forward, I’d land in his lap.
And that’s a bad thing because…?
I shove the naughty thought aside. If I want some lap time, there are other, less magnetic guys I could turn to—
Less magnetic? You need help, girl.
The exasperated voice has a point. It might as well have come from my roommate; the one who is constantly teasing me about my play-it-safe attitude toward men.
“You seem less tense now,” he observes. He studies my face again, the weight of his gaze almost a tangible thing. “Maybe you should keep me around.”
“Where would I keep you? My lease only allows for three people, and I’m not sure I earn enough here at the Brew House to feed you on a regular basis,” I say lightly. This guy is entirely too smooth for me. I have a feeling that flirt is his default setting. Which is fine. Nothing wrong with that. But it means I can’t — and shouldn’t — take him seriously.
“I’m pretty quiet. I don’t think you’d notice me.”
I raise a disbelieving eyebrow. “That’s not even within the vicinity of truthfulness.”
“I can be quiet.” He raises two fingers. “Scout’s honor.” We both look at his fingers. “I was a Scout but dropped out at the age of fifteen.”
“What happened at fifteen?” I ask, almost against my will. I want to quit the conversation but I keep allowing myself to be dragged back in. See? This is some practiced shit.
“I grew. I was a scrawny kid with questionable health but somewhere between fourteen and fifteen my body said to hell with that, we’re going to be big and strong.”
“And the Scouts got left behind? Poor fellas.”
“I was a shitty Scout. I was way behind on my badge acquisition. It was really a boon to the troop when I left. I think they might have thrown a party.”
I grin. “Your Scout troop was giddy with relief that you left, but you still think I should keep you?”
“I know how to cook, and have, at some points in my life, operated an iron.” He ticks off each skill on a finger. “I always bring the good booze when I’m invited to a party, and I make my bed in the morning.”
“You had me at know how to cook.” Truthfully all those things sound like a fairly responsible person. Safe even. But a guy this good-looking, who knows how to cook, is single, and hitting on me in a coffee shop before booty call hour? It’s all too strange. And I don’t have the time or energy to puzzle this out.
“Awesome. So when should I move in?” His blue eyes twinkle playfully.
I pretend to consider it again. “I think I have to say never. But I wish you luck on your roommate quest.”
He looks unfazed. I get the feeling nothing fazes him. “How about you just invite me over, then? I promise to bring the good booze.” When I hesitate, he swiftly changes gears. “Or we’ll go out instead. Grab some dinner.”
Another girl would have said yes. I wish I was that girl but I’m not. “Thanks for the offer, but I really don’t have the time