Page 14 of Puck Block

“Then what are you doing here?”

He moves his hands after a few long breaths and puts some space between us. “What? An EMT can’t just come hang out at a college party?”

I raise an eyebrow because…no.

He laughs quietly, and I’m not going to deny it–Cruz has a very attractive charisma about him. “I’m Rush’s brother. I told him I’d stop by for a few and wish him luck for the game this weekend.”

“You’re Rush’s brother?” I ask, watching him take a seat on the leather couch. He looks so different from the other day when he was wheeling me through the hospital. Don’t get me wrong, I noticed that he was attractive right away, but there’s something thrilling about seeing him in dark jeans, a black hoodie, and messy hair.

He cracks his fingers and eyes me from across the room. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

I blink past my embarrassment. “Well, before now, I thought you were just some rando that showed up at a college party.”

He laughs again. “I go to Bexley U.”

“You’re a student here?”

Cruz nods. “Yeah. I’m finishing my BA in science and then applying for med school.”

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.That's…impressive?I walk over and sit on the other side of the couch with just enough space between us for it to be noticeable. “So, you go to Bexley U, and you are an EMT on the side? Plus you’re applying for med school?”

He has a cocky smile. “Impressed?”

I snort.Yes.“Not even a little bit.”

Cruz throws his head back and laughs loudly. “You’d fit right in with my family.”

“What does that mean?” I pull my hair off to the side, and Cruz glances at the side of my neck for a second too long. He shifts his eyes away, and a rush of heat kisses my cheeks.

“I don’t play football, so naturally, my parents aren’t impressed.”

I turn toward him. “Wait, what? Are you kidding?”

He looks away. “Change of subject, Stubborn One. What are you doing up here all alone?”

“What are you doing following me?” I counter.

I watch him smile from the side. He leans back and puts his arm on top of the couch. It looks like an invitation, but I’m pretty sure I’m just making things up in my head because I’m so desperate for this to turn into something that it’s not.

“Do you want my honest answer?” he asks.

My pulse jumps. “If you say you’re here to make sure my glucose is okay, I swear to God…”

He furrows his brow. “I’m off duty. That’s not why I followed you.”

I eye him carefully. The room grows quiet, and the only thing I can hear is the pounding music below the floor.

“To be honest, I can’t stop thinking about you.”

My stomach nosedives.

“And then I show up at my brother’s house, and there you are. You walked right past me, and I couldn’t help it. I had to come talk to you.”

What?

I’m tingly, and if I wasn’t wearing my glucose monitor, I’d think my sugar was spiking.

“You can’t stop thinking about me?” I whisper in disbelief.But then I mentally scold myself. Of course he can’t, you confident, pink-lipstick-wearing baddie.

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