Page 17 of Fall From Grace
I adjust the strap on my shoulder and continue down the steps until I reach the front row, and I plop myself down in the seat beside hers, making sure to touch the side of my leg with hers. Her head is turned the other way as she stares off into space, but the moment my leg brushes hers, she pulls her knee in toward her and absentmindedly says, “Sorry,” like it’s her fault.
Because I’m an ass, I open my knees up wider and touch her leg with mine again—and this time, there’s nowhere for her to put that leg of hers, forcing her to look at me with a questioning expression. The very second she meets my eyes, the recognition hits her, and she’s a deer in headlights, frozen in place.
“Looks like we have a class together,” I say, glancing around her, to the book. “Maybe we can share that.”
She doesn’t say a word. She can’t. A cat has her tongue, apparently.
I smirk at her. “I mean, that book wouldn’t be the first thing we’ve shared, would it?” When I say it, I let my gaze drop, taking in her baggy t-shirt and the jeans that swallow up the legs I know for a fact are actually pretty toned. She dresses like a grandma, but beneath all those clothes…
…is a body I really shouldn’t be thinking about.
Finally, she speaks, “You’re… here.”
“So are you,” I decide to state the obvious along with her. “I guess your plan to never see me again failed. Kudos to you,though. No girl’s ever ran out on me like that before. Didn’t know you had something like that in you.”
Wren breaks our eye contact and shifts her weight. A part of me wonders if she’s internally debating on whether or not she should get up and pick another seat—and if she does, she’ll be sad, because I’ll get up and follow her.
Am I being petty? Maybe, but it’s fun.
“That’s,” she pauses as she swallows hard, “I mean, I wasn’t—” Unless I’m mistaken, I’m pretty sure her cheeks darken in a blush, almost like she’s embarrassed or something.
Embarrassed of me? Embarrassed of what we did? Come on. We’re both adults here, and I’m me. She might not know exactly who I am, but I’m not some schlump she picked up randomly. I’m me. There isn’t a single thing to complain about when it comes to my looks or my sexual capabilities. From what I remember, she had her fun with me.
“Damn,” I say with a grin. “Was I that good? So good you can’t even speak?”
She juts her chin out in a pout and mutters, “Don’t get full of yourself. You weren’t that good. You were… okay.”
“Okay?” I echo, eyebrows lifting. No one has ever described their sexual encounter with me as okay—that I know for a fact. This girl is so full of it, it’s hard to hear her over the bullshit in the air. “Come on. We both know I was better than that.” I lean over my seat and invade her personal space as I whisper, “Maybe you need another demonstration.”
I don’t do second demonstrations. It’s one-and-done for me. Still, I can’t deny the way I’d hoped to see her again at the club, how I failed in bringing home any other girl after that night—and not for a lack of trying on their part. Literally, all I would’ve had to do to get myself laid was say the words and invite them to my place, but the words never came out of me.
Had to be because of this girl. This unassuming nerd.
And what does she do when faced with the opportunity to fuck me again? She flips her hair right in my face and whispers, “I don’t think so.” As if it’s the easiest thing, turning me down. As if she isn’t tempted at all by me.
If my ego wasn’t so huge, I’d be hurt.
Wait, no. Even with the size of my ego, her instant denial irritates me. Nobody says no to me. No girl turns down a chance at getting fucked by me. That’s just not how it goes.
“I don’t think you understand,” I say. “Most girls—”
She doesn’t let me finish: “I’m not most girls.”
I scoff. “Clearly.”
“So why don’t you go sit somewhere else and find some other girl to bother? You’re not going to get anything from me again, Logan.” The way she says my name, so defiantly, like she really believes she can keep turning me down. Like she thinks I’ll take no for an answer.
Please. I’ll get her again. Challenge is officially fucking accepted.
“Nah,” I say as I stretch. “I’m right where I want to be—unless you want to move. I mean, I assume you always take front and center in every class that you can, so if you get up now, with—” I check the clock hanging off to the side of the room. “—two minutes left before class starts, someone might end up taking your front-row seat, and then what will you do?”
The look Wren gives me could kill. It’s kind of cute.
She pouts harder, as if she’s personally trying to test my resolve. She’s lucky we’re in public, otherwise I’d be tempted to lean closer to her and take that bottom lip between my teeth. “You’re annoying,” she mutters.
“Just wait until we have our first homework assignment, then I’ll be all over you.” I grin at her. “I know you’re the one to stick to if I want to pass the class, miss smartypants.”
She groans, and I know if she could, she’d snap her fingers and rid herself of me. Too bad it doesn’t work like that. “Just don’t distract me during class, okay? I can’t force you to sit anywhere else, but if you distract me, I’ll—”
