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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Brady

“Come on.”

“No.”

“You can’t just leave me in suspense!”

Cameron laughs, pushing through the doors before I can hold them open, and I follow her ass toward the tables.

“Look, just tell me I’m right.”

She gives me a blank stare, and my grin grows.

“That means I am.”

She scoffs. “Like there was any room for doubt.”

“There most definitely was not.”

She faces forward as the blush starts up her neck and picks the table closest to the back, folding her legs beneath her the moment she lowers into the seat.

I drop in the one across from her, watching as she tosses her book onto the table between us, my eyes locked on the swell of her breasts in her purple top. There are pierced nipples under that shirt. On Cameron’s body.

I can’t believe she has her nipples pierced.

“What do we—Brady!”

My attention snaps up, and she crosses her arms, cocking her head at me.

“Really?” she deadpans.

My hands lift into the air in the universal sign for I didn’t do it when I oh so clearly did, and she groans and laughs at the same time .

“Can we get down to business please?” She fights a smile. “I only have an hour.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I take my own things out, and we start on our assignment, breaking the questions in half and swapping answers.

It only takes thirty minutes to get through it, so we move to the section review, only pausing when she starts to grunt and grumble.

“I hate this class.” She sighs, finishing off her bottle of water and taking mine.

“I hate most of my classes, but we still gotta pass them.”

“You mean, I have to pass them. You’ll be drafted at the end of the year, along with Mason and Chase, and leave us girls here like peasants, all alone while you go play for some big, bad pro team.

” She smiles then. “OMG, you’ll be the second boyfriend I’ve had to leave me to become a pro athlete.

” She laughs good-naturedly, but there’s a little something in her voice she can’t hide—a small edge of sorrow maybe.

It’s not for me, of course, but the real boyfriend she had freshman year. Now that I think about it, I’m not so sure I realized he was her boyfriend. Guess I figured they were just seeing each other a bit. I wonder how serious they were.

I’m about to ask when she beats me to speak.

“Unless I dump you before you can dump me,” she jokes, stretching those long legs out until her heels are balancing on my knees. “That way, I don’t look like the girl who was left behind when you climb that ladder.”

“I, um…” I clear my throat, scratching the back of my neck. “Yeah, I don’t…I mean I’m not…” I just stop talking, not wanting to get into that.

Cameron eyes me closely, pausing a moment, and I wonder if she’s going to call me out, make me say what I didn’t mean to start saying in the first place, but instead, a small smile covers her lips, and she looks to her phone with a sigh.

“I have to go. Are you hanging here a bit or want to walk out with me? ”

“Nah, I’m going to go check on Chase. Coach asked to see him after practice again last week, but he still hasn’t told us what it was about. Any ideas of a bet I can make him to force him to talk?”

“One that I would give up to you and not save for my own future benefit?” She smirks. “Negative.”

“Brat.”

“You love me.”

“Uh-huh.” I glance at my phone, pulling up a text from Mason and firing one off real fast before turning my attention back to Cameron.

“Make sure you spend some time going over those sections this weekend. I have a group project for my finance class on Sunday that’s going to kill, so I might be brain fried after that. ”

“Wait.” She frowns. “The test is next Monday?”

“Girl, do you pay attention to that poor woman at all?”

“I try really, really hard not to.”

I laugh at that, gaining a few glares from around the room.

“She’s so annoying,” Cameron whines. “How do I know what to memorize if she doesn’t give us the questions?”

“You’re not supposed to be memorizing. You’re supposed to be learning.”

“And you’re supposed to be helping me study so I can pass this class, but so far I’ve had to do all the readings my damn self.”

“What?” I gape. “Girl, I have worked over every section with you since week one. What do you want me to do, read it to you?”

She gasps, smiling as her brows jump.

“For real?” I grin. “You want me to read it to you?”

“Imagine, I can lie back, rest my eyes, and just listen.” I see the moment she decides this is the best idea ever, her eyes lighting up at the thought alone, and oddly enough, a sliver of eagerness races down my own spine.

“Okay, yes. Let’s do that. Fuck this library.

It’s distracting anyway. Ari is in class during this time, so my dorm is perfect. ”

“Your ass will fall asleep,” I tease. “There’s a reason I made you come out of your dorm to study in the first place.”

“Pleeease,” she begs, pouty lip and all.

I want to lean forward and bite at it…but that would be weird, so instead I flick her pretty mouth, my own twitching. “All right.” I nod, and she starts to get excited, but then she sees it, the mischief in my gaze.

Her eyes narrow just as I say, “On one condition.”

Cameron

“Cammie,” he singsongs, his long strides easily keeping up with my own.

I don’t get so much as a single pace ahead of him. No, the man stays on me the whole-ass time, and he doesn’t give up.

“We already established you’re a closet freak,” he says, laughing and dodging my hand when I reach out to smack him. “And while I’m shocked by this latest development, I’m not surprised.”

“No?” I raise a brow.

“Nah.” He grins, and it’s the infamous Brady Lancaster grin. Intentionally slow, hooked high on one side, showing just a hint of white teeth and maybe making the dimple on his left cheek pop. It’s full-on playboy, screaming baby, come get me .

I glare, and he chuckles tauntingly.

“Fine! Just tell me when you got ’em done, and I’ll leave you alone,” he suggests.

“Liar.”

“Okay, I’ll leave you alone…for today.”

I almost snort, spinning in my sandals and giving him my back. “Bye, Brady!”

“See you later, Favorite Girlfriend! ”

I can’t help but laugh, tucking my hands into my hoodie as I make my way to my Free Art class, my first ever elective.

When I first registered for the semester, I assumed this class would be my easiest. Unfortunately for me, it’s quite the opposite. It’s hard as shit, and apparently, I suck at all things art.

So far, we’ve only played around with several different types of artistic expression, searching for our “niche,” as Professor Lorraine called it.

I officially suck at drawing, photography, digital design, and painting. To be fair, we did swap to something new each class, so it’s not like there was time to learn a whole lot, but I guess that’s the point. Dabble in them all and find that sweet spot.

I may very well fail this class if I can’t find something I’m half-decent at, but by the looks of it, it’s going to be a close call.

I’m sitting at a solid D at the moment, having been unable to complete a single assignment from start to finish.

But hey, at least I’ve got the 10 percent of my grade coming from attendance and participation points going for me.

Ugh.

Slipping into class, I smile at my station partner, slowly making my way over.

“Hey.” Lilly beams, her pink hair in two adorable, spiky pigtails.

“Hey.” I stuff my bag in the cubby drawers under our station and tie my apron over myself before looking over the supplies stacked on the table.

There’s some weird gray powder, a little plastic tray, and some makeup-brush-looking things with sharply cut points.

“What are we doing, making dust angels or something?”

She laughs. “My guess is sculpting.” She pokes the gray, dusty-looking stuff. “This looks like the making for some sort of clay.”

Sure enough, when the professor closes the door, officially locking anyone who isn’t yet in their seats out for the day, she confirms Lilly’s guess .

I huff, grumbling internally.

Yay, another thing for me to suck at.

I get to work, adding all the components together until a thick, slightly sticky clay is formed. It grows denser and denser with each roll of my hands through it, and then I glare down at the mess, wondering what the hell I should try to create.

I look to Lilly, who seems to be making an actual lily, the lines of the flower already forming and obvious.

Another girl has a basic heart with an arrow through, while the guy beside her puts us all to shame with his cat-making skills.

To my right, the guy whose name I can’t remember but who told me at the start of the semester he joined this class on a whim, same as I did, is making a simple football, but the texture he’s adding to it looks legit.

I smile as an idea sparks. I think it over for a moment, take a deep breath, and laugh to myself.

“Here goes nothing,” I mutter and get to work.

Starting slowly, I create a lower base using my pointer fingers, pressing the clay in a deep curve on each side, rounding it out toward the top. As soon as that’s done, I smile because I know this is actually going to work.

For the first time, class comes to a close too fast, and I nearly pout, but I take an extra minute or two to put my final touches on.

Stepping back, I beam at my work, looking over at my professor as she comes up.

“Is that…” She looks to me.

I laugh. “Yep.”

“Nice work, Cox. I think you might have found your element. Get it in the kiln and get your station cleared.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I do as I’m told, thinking maybe this class won’t be so bad after all.

With a little extra pep in my step, I head out and over to the cafeteria for some lunch .

Burrito bowl with extra guac in hand, I take a seat. I no sooner take my first bite than a pair of thick thighs appears across the table.

I look up, following the tight stretch of a deep green T-shirt, molded perfectly to a firm chest, and into a pair of green eyes that still spark something inside me, making me swallow my tongue. He knows it too, his lips twitching at whatever he sees staring back at me.

“Hi, Cameron,” Alister all but purrs. “Think your boyfriend would mind if I joined you?”