Page 32 of Jilted

Her eyes dropped to my bag. “Getting ready to leave?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

She tilted her head coyly. “Want a ride?”

First Melanie and her naked selfies, and now Anna. I was being tested today. But even if Sloane weren’t in the picture, and even if I didn’t own the company Anna worked for, my buddy’s news had put a damper on any hookups today. I’d made a lot of mistakes in my life, but I’d be damned if I was going to repeat them.

I lifted my bag to my shoulder. “I have my car here, but thanks.”

10WILDER

TEN YEARS AGO

“What comes easy won’t last.”

That was the last thing my father had said to me after dropping me off for my first semester at Harvard. At the time, I’d thought he was referring to school.

The blonde currently twirling her hair and smiling from the other side of the bar? She wasn’t exactly giving off hard-to-get vibes. I’d noticed her an hour ago. She was impossible to miss—mile-long legs, tiny waist, and red lipstick that I couldn’t stop imagining leaving ring marks around certain parts of my body. And I wasn’t the only guy who’d noticed, that was for damn sure. I’d watched a half-dozen guys amble up to her, only to be turned away with their tails between their legs. Our eyes had met a few times, so I thought I might have better luck. But that side of the bar wasn’t our territory. Final clubs—or what other schools usually called fraternities—split this place in half.

There was no line on the floor or written rules, but I stayed on our side with my buddies all the same. It was something we all knew and accepted—just like the fact that this seat was mine this year. As far as I knew, it had belonged to the captain of the rugby team since the place opened. The one next to me was for the captain of the football team, though he wasn’t around tonight. When we weren’t here, our seats remained empty—except when people who didn’t know the rules wandered in. And they were quickly educated.

I should’ve been home studying for a test tomorrow, but my teammates had dragged me out to celebrate after our 24–17 win this afternoon. I finished my beer and held it up to the bartender, signaling for another, then made my way to the men’s room to get rid of the four I’d already downed. Upon my return, I stoppedshort, finding my seat filled. Then I saw the legs attached to the offender. I reached around her and scooped my fresh beer from the bar. Legs turned to face me.

“I hope you don’t mind me keeping your seat warm.” She tilted her head with a smile.

“Not at all. But I’m a little chilly, if you’re warming things up.”

She plucked my beer from my hand and drank some. “You going to buy me my own, or do I need to drink yours?”

“I’ve watched half a dozen guys try to buy you a drink tonight. You didn’t seem to be thirsty.”

She licked beer foam from her top lip. “I don’t let guys in bars buy me drinks. It gives them a false expectation that I’m going to do something for them in return.”

I raised a brow. “Yet you just told me to buy you one?”

She smiled. “Your expectation might not be false.”

I wasn’t complaining, but I was curious. “Why is that?”

“You’re gorgeous.” She squeezed my bicep. “And I saw you play at the game earlier. I was dying to feel your arm.”

I already had a big ego, but a good stroking never hurt anyone. Especially from a woman who looked like her.

“I haven’t seen you around,” I said. “You go to school here?”

“I did. But I had to take the semester off. My parents had problems with the loans, and my dad’s sick. I’m waitressing to save up and go back. But it might take a while.”

“I’m sorry.”

She shrugged. “Not your fault.”

“What’s your name?”

“Whitney. What’s yours?”

“You went to the game today, but you don’t know my name?”

She smiled. “Wilder Hayes.”

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