Page 40 of Don’t Rush Me (Nora Jacobs 1)

Even though Wayne State Universityis no Notre Dame, it’s still fun to be walking around campus with Oliver as if I belong here. It makes me wish this were my life—that I was normal, and had friends, and went to college. I almost see myself graduating, getting a job, having a boyfriend. For the moment, I feel normal. Of course, I’m a psychic strolling across campus with a sorcerer, looking for a group of supernatural kidnappers who’ve snatched my troll roommate’s potential mate, so…normal is relative, I guess.

“You’re in luck, because it’s Rush Week right now,” Oliver says as we move into what seems to be the main quad. It’s full of tables and booths all advertising different sororities and fraternities. “Every Greek organization affiliated with Wayne State will have representatives here. We’ll just start at one end and work our way around the quad.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Oliver smiles, lighting up his whole face. When he offers me a hand to hold, as if this were a date, I grimace and shake my head. “Sorry. I’ve got a no touching policy. Unless you want me to hear every thought in your head.”

Oliver’s face heats up, and he matches my grimace. “Oh, right. I forgot about that.”

I try to smile, but the mood has slipped into awkward territory. Surprisingly, Oliver is the one to drive us back into comfortable conversation. “You can’t turn your gift off, then?”

I shake my head, grateful that I have to be paying attention to all of the booth banners so I don’t have to maintain eye contact. “I wish. That would make my life a hell of a lot easier.”

“What about clothes? Does it work through material, or do long sleeves, gloves, and things stop it?”

“Mostly. But I hate gloves. I hate having my fingers restricted, and I really don’t like to draw attention to myself any more than I have to. It’s bad enough I’m a small white girl living in inner city Detroit.”

Oliver sighs. “That’s true. I guess I don’t blame you. But…don’t you ever crave human touch?”

No way am I answering that question. I stop to look loosely at a yellow banner advertising a fraternity.

“That it?” Oliver asks, following my gaze when I stop walking.

After a moment, I shake my head. “I think it looks similar, but the symbols were different. I’m sure of it.”

Oliver heads over to the booth. It’s being manned by a couple of tall, well-built guys—one white and one black. Both look like basketball players. They’re leaner than the meatheads from my vision, and they seem like they’re slightly more intelligent, even though all the pictures at their booth are of raging parties.

They both eye skinny, geeky Oliver warily. “Hey, bro. You looking to join up?” the black guy asks.

He’s good looking, but his condescension toward Oliver pisses me off. As if he can feel me seething, he looks my way and then does a double take before grinning widely at Oliver. “Damn, man, your girl isfine.”

I know Oliver is about to correct his assumption that I’m his girlfriend, so I jump into the conversation before that can happen. “Thanks.”

The white guy joins the conversation, grinning widely at me. “Hey, beautiful, whatcha doin’ with this joker?”

My jaw drops. Are these guys for real? At least Oliver doesn’t seem to care about this guy’s low opinion. He slides me a sideways glance and gives me an eye roll that makes me smirk. I move close to Oliver and slip my arm around his waist. He glances curiously at me but follows my lead, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. He’s so considerate that he’s careful to only touch my sleeve. “Haven’t you boys heard the news?” I ask. “Geeks are totally in now. And I’ll have you know that not only is my man brilliant, fun, and a god between the sheets, he’s powerful, too.”

Both guys’ mouths fall open, and their eyebrows climb up their foreheads. I shoot them a smug smirk and lean in closer to Oliver. “Oh, yeah. He’s got his own brand of self-defense. He could kick both your asses to defend me—kill you if he had to.”

I give Oliver a knowing wink. He had come to my defense before, and maybe he doesn’t use his magic anymore, but I have no doubt he would if my life were in question. My praise makes him squeeze my shoulders. “And it’s a good thing, too,” he teases me, “as much as you find trouble.”

“Very true.” I chuckle. Oliver is kind of hot when he’s being assertive. Maybe I misread him before. Maybe he’s not shy like I thought, but just introverted.

Both frat boys get over their shock and laugh along with us. They’re eyeing Oliver differently now, with curiosity and respect. “Okay, okay, shorty,” the first guy says to me. “We get you. No offense meant. So…” He turns his attention back to Oliver. “You looking to pledge?”

I give Oliver a questioning look that he snorts at. It makes me laugh. Man, this having a friend thing is awesome. “Actually,” I say, and Oliver happily lets me answer for him, “we were looking for a specific fraternity. I thought maybe it was you guys, but I can see now it’s not. Do you guys know of another house that has a logo similar to yours? Same yellow color, but the symbols were different. Loopier somehow.”

The white guy scoffs, and the black guy glares at nothing in particular. “Are you talking about those punk-ass poser bitches?” he asks.

I perk up at this. “So youdoknow them?”

The white guy shakes his head. “Those jokers made up their own house and walk around like they’re all legit, but they aren’t even Greek.”

“Girl, you don’t want nothing to do with them. They ain’t right. More like a cult than a frat, and they get rough.”

“I’ve heard their parties get weird. Real freaks, you know?”

“Yeah.” I nod at Oliver. “That sounds like our assholes.”

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