Page 4 of Mine to Take

Like I’m nothing more than a piece of meat.

“Ivy is going to be so jealous when I tell her.” She flashes a triumphant smile. “And I’m going to share every tiny detail for her to savor.”

Hmmm…

I’m not sure how I feel about that.

Do I catch wind of the rumors that float around campus concerning my…appetites?

Yup. It would be hard not to.

I was amused by the stories freshman year.

Now, however?

Not so much.

The last thing I’m interested in is being a notch on some girl’s bedpost.

You’d be surprised by how mercenary some of these chicks can be or the way they like to compare notes.

Without looking, she tosses the T-shirt over her shoulder. It hits the bottle of beer on my desk, knocking it to the floor. Golden liquid bubbles up from the long neck and spills everywhere.

I swear under my breath as my mood takes a swift nosedive.

With a giggle, she swings around and picks up the glass container before setting it on the desk. Her gaze gets snagged by the English paper I tossed there a few days ago.

“Just leave it,” I say with a grunt.

Trying to lose myself in this girl was a mistake, and I should have realized it sooner. Instead, I forced something that wasn’t there to begin with.

There used to be a time in the not-so-distant past when hooking up and having non-discriminant sex was fun. A way to blow off steam for a couple of hours and relieve the stress that would build to a breaking point inside me.

It hasn’t felt that easy in a while.

Jenna stares at the paper before glancing over her shoulder to meet my gaze. “Linstrom is your professor and you still got a D minus?” Disbelief threads its way through her voice. “All you have to do is show up and you’re guaranteed a C.”

Embarrassment slams into me as flames lick at my cheeks.

She flips the page to glance at the second one. “Have you ever heard of a little thing called spellcheck?”

I swipe at the paper, only wanting to snatch it from her. At the last moment, Jenna shifts so that it’s just out of reach and my fingers claw the air.

“Give it to me,” I growl. My teeth are clenched so tightly that my molars ache. It takes effort to keep from lashing out and jumping down her throat.

I fucking hate when people read my papers or see my grades. In elementary school, it was an endless source of embarrassment. After all these years, that feeling has never subsided. It doesn’t matter if there’s an explanation for it. I’m sure as shit not about to share that with Jenna.

She waves me away. “Just give me a minute and let me read this.”

“I asked you to give it back. So how about you just do it?”

“Are all your classes going this well?”

That question sends another tidal wave of humiliation crashing over me as I clamp my lips together, refusing to give her an answer. It’s just easier to go numb and block out the shame that tries to eat me alive.

When I remain silent, she tosses the paper onto the desk before swinging around to face me.

“That’s all right. I doubt the university gives a damn if you pass your classes.” A smile tips the corners of her lips. “Not when you’re busy winning championships for them.” She gives me a little wink. “Personally speaking, I don’t mind my hockey players a little slow on the uptake. Just as long as they know how to wield their sticks.”

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