Page 6 of Rookie Mistake

“Mhmm.” He reaches out, sweeping the rough pad of his finger along the small tattoos on my fingers. “I like these. You have any more?”

I glance down at my tattoos, nodding. “A… few. I got most of them over the summer. Mostly in places you can’t see.”

I don’t miss the way his gaze flares, even in the darkened back seat. “Yeah? I’d love to see. Big, big fan of self-expression.”

My laugh echoes throughout the back seat, and I nod. “I bet. Do you auction yourself off at the Kappa house often?”

“Only when it’s for charity. Find yourself bidding on strangers for dates often?”

“Fair.” I laugh.

I’m honestly having entirely too much fun going back and forth with him, and part of me doesn’t want our ride to wherever it is we’re going to be over.

“You a freshman?” he asks as he lifts his hand and drags his long fingers through his hair, pushing it off his face, giving me a glimpse of his deliciously chiseled jaw and strong, corded throat.

“Yeah, I am.”

He nods, a smile playing on his lips. “Thought so. What’s your major?”

“Musical composition.”

“Wow.” His brow arches. “And… what exactly is that?”

It’s the same question that pretty much everyone asks when I tell them I’m majoring in composition, so I’m not surprised.

“The easy answer? Creating music. I play piano, and I write my own music. I’d like to maybe do it for someone else one day.” I shrug. “I don’t know, maybe it’ll change, but I’ve been playing piano for as long as I can remember.”

“That’s awesome. So that’s why you’ve got the music notes?” he asks, glancing down at my fingers again.

“Mhmm.” I nod, wiggling them against the seat. “The slanted pound sign means sharp, and this one means flat. It’s what a composer will use when determining the pitch of the music.”

Davis nods as I speak, sweeping his finger absentmindedly over the dark ink on my pale skin.

I’m surprised by how genuinely interested he seems to be as I explain the meaning behind my tattoos. Most guys have zero interest in things like this.

“Cool. Well, maybe you can play for me one day. Maybe after I get my first tattoo.”

“I don’t know, I’m pretty sure the auction rules say only one night. I’m a big rule follower,” I respond cheekily with a flash of a smile.

“Yeah? For some reason, I had you pegged as a girl who wanted to do anything but follow rules. Guess I was wrong.”

Before I can respond, our Uber turns into a packed parking lot and stops at the entrance of a black brick building that looks sketchy as shit, to say the least.

My gaze snaps to Davis, and I see that he’s smirking.

Amusement shines in his eyes as he thanks the driver and reaches past me to curve his fingers over my door handle. I get a whiff of his cologne, and my mouth nearly waters.

God, he smells incredible.

Not only is he hot and has a fun personality to match, but he smells like he walked out of an Armani catalog.

“Ladies first.”

I probably should question why we’re at what looks like a dive bar in the middle of nowhere, but my curiosity outweighs the cautious, rational part of me.

What little exists.

My chunky combat boots crunch on the gravel as I step out, tucking my purse on my shoulder and glancing around the parking lot.

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