Page 28 of Kicking It with the Point Guard

I let him climb up first, then scramble up afterwards, trying to discreetly smooth out the blanket.

He seems to freeze up, so I open my backpack and pull out my textbook and notes. Maybe if I can get him focused on math, he’ll calm down. Although I’m not really sure why he’s so nervous to begin with.

He’s never acted nervous around me before.

“I had a question about something we went over in class today, and I want to make sure that I really understand all of the variations of the quadratic equation that Professor Drivels might put on the test.”

The math talk knocks him into action, just like I hoped it would. He’s comfortable with math. Like I’m comfortable with books.

We study for a while, and then Cameron leans against the wall, stretching. His shirt rides up a little, revealing the tanned and toned abs beneath it.

He catches me staring and something flashes in his eyes.

I cough, looking away and pulling my phone out of my bag.

Holy shit! We’ve been studying for almost three hours. No wonder I was doing so well at the end of that session. I missed my next class as well.

“Do you need to go?” he asks, his nervousness gone.

“Um, no… I missed my next class. It’s been almost three hours.”

Cameron looks at his phone too, then he laughs.

If I thought his smile was wonderful, I wasn’t prepared for his laugh. It’s deep and rich, and a shiver runs through my body before settling low in my belly.

That may have been the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.

He smiles at me, and the heat in my belly rises to my cheeks.

“We studied through lunch. Are you hungry?”

For you? Absolutely… is what I want to say. I opt for the safer option.

“Um… yes? I think I could eat something.”

We put my stuff in my backpack, and he hops off the bed, holding his hand out for me.

Do I need his help to get off the bed? No. I get off my own bed every day, and I’m pretty sure there are no differences in the generic college dorm beds the university provides for their students.

Do I take his hand, anyway?

Yes, I do.

He grabs my backpack off the bed and slings it over his shoulder, then leads me to the door. He finally lets go of my hand when we get into the hallway and turns to lock the door behind him.

We walk together to the cafeteria, not quite touching, but if I adjusted my hand even a little, then we’d be holding hands again.

I push the thought away for the time being. If I thought that just studying with Cameron would incite the wrath of the cheerleaders—who, I am sure, are the culprits of the shit room. Who knows what lengths they would go to if they saw us holding hands?

A loud voice cuts through my thoughts, and the big hockey guy I saw Cameron with the other day bounds over to us, an easy grin on his face.

“Hey, Oscar. Wanna grab lunch with me and Violet?” Cameron asks the newcomer.

His smile widens to show his straight white teeth. “Yes, I would very much like to have lunch with you and Violet.”

Violet

Lunch with Oscar was… fun? Cameron and I didn’t really have to speak much, if at all. Oscar carried the entire conversation. The only input from the two of us was when Oscar asked a question.

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