Page 3 of Wicked

I resist the urge to shake my head as soon as the words leave my mouth. Being the douchebag I am, I’m not in the habit of apologizing.

She’s wearing an outfit identical to what she wore Friday night. All black, including her boots. In the full sunlight, I’m drawn to her face.

Bare of makeup. Smooth and creamy skin with a hint of color on her cheeks. Too bad I can’t take credit. We’re three weeks into August, and the temperature induces a sweat.

Her eyes are a clear blue, contrasting with her onyx hair. There’s a smattering of freckles on the bridge of her nose and across her cheeks. Her lips are full, set in a perpetual pout that gets me hot down there.

And oh, shit, there are more freckles, faint ones along the corners of her bottom lip. Freckles on a girl is my weakness.

I groan low in the back of my throat. Cram my hands inside my pockets. I shouldn’t be paying so much attention to her looks. I’m not interested.

“Look, I’d like to make it up to you for being a jerk. I’ll do anything.” I wince. It’s not in my nature to grovel, either, no matter how badly I behaved.

“Anything?”

“Yeah.”

“Why should I agree? I don’t know you.”

“You don’t know who I am?” Did that come off too cocky?

“Oh,I knowwho you are. Let me put it a different way.”

She shrugs her backpack off her small shoulder and hugs it to her chest.

“I don’t knowyou, Ryker Conway. We’ve never had a class together. Never so much as run into each other on campus. We happen to lock gazes from across the room, and suddenlyyou, Mr. Douchebag Galore, is willing to doanythingfor me? How absurd.”

Is this girl for real? What time period is she from? Or is she practicing lines from a stupid play? Seriously, lock gazes? Absurd?

I clap. “Great rephrasing,HarperGarrix.”

Her blue eyes widen. Her full lips purse. I should look away. I shouldn’t stare. Again, I’m not here forher. I’m talking to this girl who’s not my type, who doesn’t interest me one iota, so that I can be with the girl who does—Missy.

“So back to that anything I’ll do for you. What will it be?”

Her eyes narrow. I stare back and show her a mouthful of straight white teeth. This is how I get the women to swoon at my feet. Except, this girl is showing no signs of being affected by my charm. She doesn’t clear her throat. Doesn’t break eye contact. Her cheeks don’t turn a shade of pink.

“And I should trust you why?”

A dark brow arches. I have this crazy urge to smooth my fingertip over the arch, knowing full well her brow is as soft as what her onyx strands will feel like if I reach out and grasp them between my fingers. She’s expectantly waiting for my answer. Glaring, even.

I smirk.

“To be honest, you shouldn’t. I’m a complete jerk. But I’m up for being reformed.”

I smile wider. Rock on my heels. I haven’t had this much fun talking with a coed in a long time.

She opens the car door and tosses her backpack in the passenger seat. “Why do you think I’m the right girl? Or that I want to touch you with a ten-foot pole? That’s what it’ll take to reform you properly. I’d have to spend time with you.”

Being seen with me doesn’t appeal to her?O-kay. And, she continues to pummel my ego to the cold, hard ground.

“I don’t have time for your head games. Unlike you, who is here on scholarships, I work to pay for rent and food. I’m also in an intense major that takes up much of my time. Find a different girl.”

She gets in the car and starts to shut the door. I stop her and do something I never thought I’d do. I get down on my haunches and proposition a girl I’d never look at once, much less twice.

“Let me ease a burden for you. I can take you out for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Or if you don’t want to be seen with me, give me a list, and I’ll keep your fridge stocked.”

“Is this separate from the earlier ‘anything’ ask?”

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