Page 11

Chapter Eleven

Trent

B efore entering the crowded hallway, I say my goodbyes to my friends. With my hand on her shoulder, I steer her toward the stairs.

“You don’t look like someone who eats ice cream,” she says condescendingly.

On my way to the cafeteria, I saw Jemma in the game room next to Oliver Fox. That bastard was too close to my girl. He saw him brush his lips on her ear, stroking her pale skin with his fingers. The jealous asshole inside me came out to play along with my competitiveness.

But at least it paid off.

We climb the stairs to the cafeteria.

I step to the side, allowing incoming traffic to pass, and I narrow my eyes at her. “Everyone likes ice cream.”

She shrugs as we walk into the cafeteria. “I just mean… you know, someone who looks like you wouldn’t eat something as fattening as ice cream.”

I tilt my head back and laugh, rubbing a hand over my stomach. “Don’t let this body fool you. Ice cream is one of my guilty pleasures.”

“What sport do you play?”

“Ice hockey.” I search her face, wondering how she hasn’t heard of the Kane twins. “You are new, huh?” Jemma nods, and I continue, “I’m used to everyone on campus already knowing who I am.”

It’s the truth. I can’t remember the last time a girl didn’t already know every dirty thing about me.

She clears her throat, pretending to choke as she rolls her eyes at me.

I rebound by adding, “That came out kind of douchey.”

She flashes a grin at me. “Okay, Mr. Popular.”

“I like having a fresh start with you,” I admit. “That’s what I meant. Everyone on campus already has preconceived ideas about me. But with you, I’m a blank slate.”

“So far, so good.”

“I like you, Jemma with a J.” I grab two cones at the end of the dessert line and look at her. “What flavor do you want?”

She brushes her red hair behind her ears, biting her bottom lip as if deep in thought. “Hmm… I’ll have the chocolate and vanilla swirl.”

“Excellent choice. It’s my favorite.”

I fill the cones and hand one to Jemma. She sticks out her tongue, giving the ice cream a few tentative licks that remind me of my wet dream.

Like an idiot, I stand there and watch her eat.

Dirty thoughts run through my head, and I can’t stop thinking about her tongue and how it felt when I kissed her.

She must see the desire on my face because she stops licking the ice cream. Her eyes find mine, a fire brewing in her green irises.

I raise the cone in my hand. “How about we take this to go?”

She licks her ice cream, seemingly aware of how much she’s turning me on. Jemma’s driven me wild since we met, but I know little about her.

And I want to know her.

We exit the cafeteria, taking the steps two at a time until we’re outside. For October, the weather is warmer than expected. I can get away with wearing shorts, a Strickland Senators tee, and no jacket.

We walk side by side, dodging students as they pass.

“So, what’s your story?” I ask her. “Where are you from?”

“Lancaster,” she mutters.

“Lots of farms up that way.”

“Yeah. My dad owns a farm.”

I snap my head at her. “You’re a farmer’s daughter? Interesting.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t know that already.” I shoot her a confused look, and she adds, “My sister is Jordan Walcott.”

“Jordan’s your sister? Everyone on campus knows Jordan.”

I can see the family resemblance. They have the same red hair, pale skin, and green eyes, except for Jordan’s shorter hair. She has more of a punk rock look, whereas Jemma has the sweet and innocent look down pat.

“She’s the life of every party,” Jemma says. “Hard to miss her.”

Jordan is wild. At most parties, you can find her drunk off her ass with her skirt around her waist and dancing on the tables at the Delta Sig chapter house. She’s a frat boy magnet, fully involved in the Greek life.

“Yeah,” I agree. “Your sister knows how to party.”

She laughs. “God, I hope you two never… you know.”

“Nope, never,” I promise. “You’re the only Walcott I want.”

She smiles up at me.

“How come you’re a junior pledging Kappa Delta?”

She stares at the backs of the people before us and rolls her shoulders. “I needed a change, I guess. And I wanted to be closer to my sister.”

She seems more closed off now that we’re talking about her. If I want to know her, I must break through her walls. So, I offer something about myself.

“I helped my brother cheat on a test, and we got suspended for two games.”

She peeks up at me. “What class?”

“Business law.”

“Isn’t that a first-year elective?”

I nod. “He failed the class freshman year, and now he has to retake it before he can graduate this year.”

“I’m a journalism major,” she offers.

“You want to be a reporter?”

“That’s the plan.”

“My mom owns an online newspaper. If you ever need an internship, she would help you.”

What am I doing?

My mom has never met any of the girls I hooked up with. Well, technically, we haven’t hooked up, only kissed.

A smile illuminates her face. “Thanks. I would love that. We’re supposed to find an internship next year. Everyone on campus already applied for the school paper. So, that doesn’t leave me with many options. And I don’t know many people in Philly.”

“My mom owns Sports Buzz . Do you like sports?”

Jemma shrugs. “I’m a fast learner.”

“Do you have another class today?”

She shakes her head. “I have a ton of homework and a meeting later at the chapter house.”

“You don’t seem like the sorority type.”

“I’m not,” she admits. “But my mom is a Kappa Delta legacy, and my sister is the Queen of KD. So I guess you can say it’s in my blood.”

“It’s like that for me,” I offer. “Hockey is in my DNA.”

She chuckles. “Why do you say that?”

“My dad played in the NHL for fifteen years. Now he’s the general manager of the Philadelphia Flyers.”

She bobs her head. “Do you want to play pro hockey like your dad?”

“It’s the only thing I think about… other than you.”

She snorts with laughter, swatting her hand at me. “Stop trying to impress me.”

“Are you impressed?”

“You’re off to a good start.” Jemma turns left, dragging me with her. “I live in Penn Hall. You can walk me home.”

“I’d walk with you to the end of the earth,” I joke.

She laughs. “You’re cute.”

“You’re beautiful.”

A smile tugs at her mouth.

As we walk through campus, her fingers brush along mine.

Our instant connection sparks a shock of electricity that burns my skin.

I’m tempted to hold her hand because I want more of her heat.

But I don’t want to make her uncomfortable or give her the wrong idea.

I don’t date, at least not in the traditional sense, and Jemma seems like a traditional girl. So, why can’t I leave her alone?

We stop in front of Penn Hall, the tension between us palpable. I consider bending down to kiss her but think better of it. The first time was for a dare, the last time for charity. She might not take too kindly to me claiming her in front of everyone in the Quad.

I slip my fingers between hers. “Come to a party with me this weekend.”

Without hesitation, she says, “Where?”

“Delta Sig. It’s their annual Halloween party.”

“I was already planning to go.” She smiles. “What costume are you wearing?”

“Legends of hockey past.” She scrunches her nose, and I clarify, “Dead hockey players. It’s the team tradition. Think zombie hockey players.”

Jemma raises her hand to her mouth and chuckles. “I can’t wait to see this.”

“You can’t miss us.” I shove my hands into my pockets and rock back on my heels. “What are you wearing? Playboy bunny? Sexy witch?”

She purses her lips. “I’m not sure yet. My sorority sisters have something planned for us.”

Jemma walks toward the door, her hand raised to wave before she enters Penn Hall. I watch as she climbs the stairs and disappears into the building. Now, more than ever, I’m looking forward to the party because I need to see Jemma again.