Page 3 of A Little Tempting

Tucking my thumbs beneath my backpack straps on my shoulders, I take a deep breath and head inside the massive brick building in front of me. The long hallway is jammed with students, each rushing toward their class like the rest of us. Keeping my eyes glued to the ground in front of me, I dodge a couple arguing on my left and run smack-dab into a very hard chest.

A pair of hands fly to my elbows to keep me from falling flat on my butt, though I’m too surprised to be grateful.

“Whoa, you okay?” a familiar masculine voice asks.

I lift my chin and draw in a breath. It’s laced with relief when I meet a pair of familiar blue eyes. “Oh. Hey, Everett.”

My best friend’s older brother ushers me to the side of the long hallway and lets me go. “You shouldn’t be looking at your feet when you walk, Dylan.”

“Yeah, but if I look up, I have to make eye contact with people, and if I make eye contact with people, they might try to talk to me, and talking to people gives me hives, so…”

“You’re talking to me,” he points out dryly.

“You don’t count. You’re family,” I remind him.

Okay, technically, we aren’t related. Still, all of our parents went to college together and raised their kids to be one big, happy family of cousins. So, blood or not, he means way more to me than anyone else in this building. He’s actually seen me in my not-so-awkward glory, which is kind of a miracle since awkward is my go-to whether I like it or not.

With a wrinkled brow, Everett pulls the backpack strap a little higher onto my shoulder, his cool blue eyes rolling over every inch of me as if he’s searching for said hives and whether or not he has time to grab some cream from the nearest pharmacy when a girl calls his name behind me.

“Hey, Everett!”

His gaze flicks away from me toward the culprit while he pastes on a smirk most girls would swoon over. “Hey, Morgan.”

“You gonna walk me to class?” She bats her long, dark lashes at him, and I bite back my snort.

Subtle, girlfriend. Really subtle.

“Give me a sec,” Everett replies. He turns to me again, his brows bunching. “Where’s your class?”

I lift a shoulder, take my phone from my back pocket, and pull up my already-memorized schedule. “Photography. Room 301.”

“I’ll walk you.”

“Dude, I’m fine.”

“Do you know where you’re going?” he challenges.

No.

“Yes.”

He doesn’t believe me, so he motions to the stairs on my right anyway. “Two floors up. First room on the left. You got it?”

“Yup.”

“You sure?” he pushes.

“One hundred percent.” With a mock salute, I repeat, “Two floors up. First room on the right.”

“Left,” he corrects me.

“Right.Left.” I pat his chest and step away, wiggling my fingers in a half-assed wave. “See you around, Everett.”

“Not if you’re staring at your feet,” he counters.

I roll my eyes but don’t reply as I make my way toward the stairs. Everett’s always been this way. Overprotective. Bossy. And with a side of holier-than-thou. It makes me want to smack him more often than not. Then again, he’s also thoughtful, sharp as a tack, and drop-dead gorgeous thanks to his dark, straight hair, almond-shaped eyes, and a wide smile with straight white teeth he uses to lure in the ladies. The combination allows him to get away with almost anything, including the less-than-adorable traits I already mentioned.

Yeah. Good ol’ Everett. Can’t live with him. Can’t live without him. But at least I know where I’m going now. Thanks to my less-than-stellar sense of direction, it’s a freaking miracle. I tug my backpack straps a little tighter and take a deep breath.

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