Page 12 of Out of Bounds

That wasn’t the answer I was looking for. Sketching out some of the beginning bases on my drawing pad, I tried avoiding another frustrated spiel about the dinner. My roommates had suffered through enough of me griping about it. AndRyan Cross.

"Segundo de Chomón, Zariah."

"Brown hair?" Zariah cocked her head to the side. "Family-sized?"

"Chomón?"

"The football guy."

"Oh. I guess."

She took a short pause. "Sex on a stick?"

"What are you—?" One look up and the question took a short walk off a long cliff.

I must’ve crossed from exhausted to hallucinatory because standing at the door frame, in jeans and a dark t-shirt that barely covered his muscles, washim. With a freshly-showered curl to his hair and a rugged, five o’clock shadow that didn’t deserve to look as good as it did. The golden boy of the university himself.

What?Why?

I struggled with an explanation. Why the hell would the football team captain be in the art building?

Ryan scanned beyond the little crowd starting to congregate around him. Those dark honey eyes locked on mine, and he gestured to the front of the class.

Not good.

"Where’re you going?" Zariah called after me.

The closer I got to Ryan, the more the other ladies in the class got the same idea. Even worse than that were the guys, gaping like fish. Ryan barely made it five steps into the classroom and slack-jawed students were already trying to shake his hand. Pictures flashed.

Goddamn, this is a circus.

I was beyond mystified. I was a bird rustling her feathers, wary of whatever tomfoolery was happening below the tree.

"Good. You’re here." Ryan offered a grim smile and I honestly couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic. "I need to talk to you."

Nobody in this life or the next one, ever saysI need to talk to youwhen it’s about something good. No free puppies are ever whipped out after that sentence.

"Mr. Cross has generously volunteered." Mr. Ishisaka beamed behind him. "At last, new organic matter—"

My confusion was a bottomless trench. "Wait,you’remodeling?"

"I said we’d consider it." Ryan gave a quick shake of his head. "I’ll talk to our PR team about it. We can send videos."

Mr. Ishisaka hesitated. "But…you said—?"

"I said we’dconsiderit."

"I…" My professor faltered and returned to his desk. "I have the emails…"

"So, you’re not modeling?" I pressed.

"No."

"Hold on." I held up a hand. "You toldmyprofessor that you're down and the moment you arrive, you get cold feet?" Every word dripped with irritation. "Am I missing something here? Do I got all my ducks pretty in a row?"

"I came to talk toyou." Ryan took one step forward, and as much as I wanted to step back, I held my ground. I wasn’t about to get bullied by one of the university’s GI Joe dolls. "I wanted to apologize."

"By being shitty to my teacher?"

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