Page 24 of The Wrong Quarterback

“No, ma’am. Nothing to share,” I said smoothly, folding my arms and giving her my most practiced, pleasant smile.

Her lips pressed into a thin line, eyes narrowing. “I’d like to remind you, Mr. Davis, of my strict no-fraternization policy between TAs and students. It’s not just a guideline; it’s non-negotiable.”

I nodded, the smile never slipping as I thought about Casey’s silver eyes, and the way she’d stared up at me…and all the things I was going to do to that tight fucking body.

“Understood, Professor,” I replied easily, my voice steady.

But I’d never told a bigger lie.

There wasdefinitelygoing to be fraternizing.

More than she could ever imagine.

And I, for one, couldn’t wait for the fraternizing to begin.

I would just have to figure out a way around that rule after the fact.

First steps to becoming a stalker: figuring out everything I could about my girl.

As soon as I left the lecture hall, I slipped into one of the empty, private study rooms that were in most of the academic buildings. These rooms would be almost impossible to get next week when students actually had work to do, but since it was the first day of class, they were all completely empty.

First day of class. It felt weird to think that was all the time that had passed. Today already felt like the longest, most lifechanging day of my life. It seemed much more fitting that weeks had gone by, or even months. Not just a couple of fucking hours.

Settling into the chair, the screen’s glow reflecting off my face as I navigated through the class roster, my fingers paused when her name popped up. Casey Larsen.

It would sound even better as Casey Davis.

A grin tugged at the corner of my mouth.Okay, crazy…

I moved to the professor portal. Hendrick had given me access to help with something last year, and I was hoping she hadn’t bothered to change the password. I keyed it in and waited, doing an inner fist pump when the screen accepted it.

I typed in her name, and Casey’s student profile appeared, neatly organized and full of the usual information—photo ID, major—undecided, of course, since she was a freshman, and home address. My gaze slid over her birthdate and paused at her current schedule. Perfect. A quick screenshot captured it all, and I made a mental note of her roommate’s name as well.

I opened a new tab, fingers typing her name and hometown. I was pleasantly surprised when there were actually a few search results.

She played piano. And she didn’t justplay…she was incredible. There were some articles about piano contests she’d been in, bright headlines detailing her wins, her talent. One article even linked to a video on YouTube. I clicked on it, and before I knew it, the soft, rich notes of piano music filled the silent room. She was younger in the video, eyes closed as her fingers danced over the keys, moving with a kind of passion that made it impossible to look away. I sat back, the music winding its way through me, unexpected and sharp. She was talented. Fuck, more than talented. I didn’t know much about music, but there was no way she wasn’t a prodigy or something.

Wow. Just another tally mark in the goddess column.

I scrolled through a few more search results that weren’t relevant before I got to the obituary of a guy named Ben Larsen. Feeling uneasy, I clicked on it, scanning through the page.

Her brother had died. Around two years ago. He’d been about my age. I rubbed at my chest, the sentence “survived by his loving mother, Brenda Larsen, and his younger sister, Casey” making me sick inside.

Fuck.

I got it then. Her eyes had been stunning, yes. And unique. But thinking about them now, I understood why else they had entranced me. Because there was a deepness inside them, a darkness…that only came from suffering loss.

I knew that, because the same look was reflected inmyeyes from the moment my dad had died suddenly and my mom had fallen apart.

I wondered if she felt it too—that emptiness inside of her, like something was missing.

I hoped she did. Because then I could swoop in and fill all the empty parts up.

My phone buzzed with a text, and I groaned when I saw the time. I was supposed to be watching film right now with the rest of the offense.

Matty: Where the fuck are you?

Jace: Blink once if you were kidnapped.

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