Page 5 of Not Fooling Anyone

Obviously.

I don’t have time to talk. I have a new bookkeeping job to prepare for. Dad’s text turned out better than I thought. Extra money and something applicable to accounting to put on my resume for the future. More than bartending anyway.

And if I see Ethan again at the gym, I’ll simply avoid him. No one’s that friendly for no good reason.

Not with me, at least.

* * *

“Remember, check your syllabus before you ask me any questions. If you waste my time because you couldn’t bother to read something, prepare for me to deduct points from your grade.”

I roll my lips between my teeth to hide my smile. It’s only the second week of classes, but I’m already loving Dr. Clark, my Intro to Psychology professor.

“And come see me after class if you’re interested in participating in my department’s new study. It pays twenty bucks. Dismissed.”

My head perks up. Twenty dollars is twenty dollars. I desperately need to refill my bank account after wiping it clean paying for utilities and rent.

But everyone else has the same idea as students rush to form a line in front of Dr. Clark’s podium. This is the problem with introductory level classes. There are too many damn people.

I find a place in line, resisting the urge to tap my toes since it’s going to be a bit of a wait.

“Lexie,” a deep voice from behind me says. “I thought that was you.”

I whip around, craning my neck up to spy none other than Ethan, the man my brain kept turning back to when trying to sleep last night. “What are you doing, following me?” I raise my brows, eyeing him, and he grins in response, sticking his hands in his pockets. Why doesn’t he ever act the way I expect him to?

“I’m in this class. And apparently, so are you.”

My lips twist. It would have been easy enough to miss him. There are probably close to two hundred students in here.

“So Marty said he’s giving you a trial run,” he continues when I don’t reply. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” I mutter, hitching my backpack up higher on my shoulder as the line moves forward. “Were you checking up on me?”

“You know, your dad’s a pretty sociable guy. Those genes didn’t pass on to you, did they?”

I roll my eyes, not letting my lips tilt up again like they want to.

“That’s okay. I can talk for both of us. I’ve got middle child syndrome. You have to talk a lot to be heard.”

You mean there are others like him? “No kidding.”

“Yep. Four brothers.”

There are five Ethans out there? Good Lord.

The line moves again, but not fast enough for my liking.

“Do you have something against making new friends?”

Friends? I can count the number of friends I have on one hand. One finger, really. And I don’t need any more. “Is that what you’re doing? Trying to be my friend?”

“Yeah.”

I give him a once over, taking in his muscular build and good looks. I’ll admit, he’s an attractive guy. Which is all the more reason to stay away. I’d bet anything he was some popular jock in high school. “Guys like you aren’t friends with girls like me.” I already learned that lesson the hard way.

He blinks at me, taken aback for the first time. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Forget it.” I turn back around, wishing I’d kept my mouth shut.

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