Page 30 of Chase Lovett Wants Me

“Hey.” That single word feels like a caress on bare skin.

I glance at him, mouth going dry as my heart skips a beat and then takes off at a gallop. “Hey.”

His gaze moves over my face, and he swallows thickly before he asks, “Is it cool if I sit here?”

“If you want,” I croak.

“I haven’t seen you around since we got back into the dorms.” It’s mostly an observation, with a hint of accusation.

“I’ve been at the library working on assignments,” I offer weakly.

He arches a brow. “And avoiding me?”

“I didn’t want to make it awkward.” Guess I failed at that.

“I knocked on your door three times yesterday. And left a note on your message board,” Chase says.

“You did?” I was probably so focused on getting into my room without running into anyone, that I didn’t even look at the whiteboard stuck to my door.

“The message is still there. Didn’t you sleep in your room last night?” His jaw tics.

“What’s this?” I poke his cheek.

“What’s what?”

“There’s a muscle jumping in your jaw.”

His nostrils flare and he leans in closer, dropping his voice to a whisper and brushing his lips on the shell of my ear. “I like you. I missed you.” I feel him take a deep breath before continuing. “And the idea of someone else touching your precious when I want it to be mine makes me unhappy.”

I lean back so I can see his face. He looks serious. I can’t believe we’re having this conversation in the middle of a lecture theater that’s quickly filling with students. “Why would you automatically assume if I didn’t sleep in my bed I slept in someone else’s and allowed them access to my body? I’m not the Hookup Champion between the two of us.”

“I don’t know. But I didn’t see you at all yesterday and I didn’t like it, and I also didn’t get a chance to get your phonenumber and I’ve spent the last twenty-four hours in worst-case scenario-ville,” he admits.

“Oh.”

Brody drops into the seat next to him. His hood is pulled up to conceal his face. Looks like we’re both hiding from the world, but probably for very different reasons.

“Hey, Cammie. Hey, Chase.” He waves and starts pulling things out of his backpack.

“Hey,” we say in unison.

Another large guy sits down who I presume must also be on the school hockey team based on his size and haircut—most of these guys sport a slightly shaggy mop covered with a Tilton University or Terror ball cap. Except for Brody. He usually sports a plain black one.

He greets Brody and Chase, then leans forward to give me a two-finger wave. “You must be Cammie.”

Chase’s head whips around in his direction. “Dude.”

Brody stifles a snicker.

“What? Thisisthe girl you were talking about at the gym earlier, right? The edgy one you can fit in your pocket?”

Chase called me edgy? And that he could fit me in his pocket? Both are true, I guess. My wardrobe is fairly monochromatic and next to him I’m pretty darn small. But what else did he say about me?

“I’m Mac. I play defense for the Blaze. Chase couldn’t stop talking about you through our entire workout. I get it, you’re cute.” He winks.

“I will end you if you keep it up,” Chase growls.

My entire body likes that sound.

---