Friend Zoned (Barnett Bulldogs #2) (2 page)

But clearly I’m having a difficult time with that.

Which doesn’t make the least bit of sense.

There is no way I should be having these kinds of thoughts about Sam.  It feels, I don’t know... incestuous.  Sort of.  Maybe.  A little bit.  Although it’s not as if we’re related or anything like that.

It’s just that we’ve known each other since we were fourteen years old.  For goodness sake, I used to crawl into bed with the guy when we were in high school.  Although nothing ever happened between us.  There were no wandering hands in the middle of the night.  No copping a cheap feel.  No I’ll-show-you-mine-if-you-show-me-yours. He would simply hold me in his arms while I slept
.

That was it.

Up until very recently, I’ve never thought of Sam as anything other than my best friend.

Which is precisely why these thoughts are disturbing on so many different levels.

Unperturbed by my abrupt tone, he shrugs his broad shoulders before slouching further onto his chair.  “Sure.”

Sam has, for all intents and purposes, a photographic memory.  So chit chatting the entire class period away is no biggie for him.  All he has to do is read something once and it’s locked in for life.  Which, I’m not going to lie, is annoying as hell to people like myself who actually have to study their proverbial asses off to pull decent grades.

Okay… so maybe it’s a little more than annoying.

Even though Sam doesn’t face the same academic challenges that I do, he lets me borrow that big brain of his anytime I need it. He’s pretty great about studying with me or re-explaining concepts I don’t have a firm grasp on.

After another thirty-three minutes, which is precisely three minutes past the end of class, Rickets finally releases us back into the world.  People scatter from the room as if they’re fleeing for their very lives.  Which I can’t exactly blame them for.  Rickets dearly loves a captive audience and is always just a bit reluctant to turn them loose when his time finally draws to an end.

As soon as we clear the door of the classroom, Sam slings his muscular arm around my shoulders as we make our way out of the poli sci building.  It may be bright and sunny out, but there’s a cold northeasterly wind whipping its way through campus.  I’m bundled up in my silver North Face coat and Sam is wearing his varsity football jacket.

“I hate this weather,” I grumble right before Sam tugs me closer to that big body of his.  The guy radiates heat like a furnace.  That being said, I can’t help but snuggle into his warmth as the wind continues to slap at us with icy cold fingers.

“Better?”  His lips are so close to my ear that the husky cadence of his voice sends an unexpected shiver skittering its way down my spine.  My eyes fly to his hoping that the hitch in my breathing has gone unnoticed.

He flashes a brief smile but doesn’t seem any wiser to what’s going on within me.  A little sigh of relief escapes from my lips.

Jesus H. Christ.

I don’t know why I keep reacting to him this way.  It’s totally disconcerting.  Not to mention embarrassing.

The first couple of times it happened, I shrugged it off as a fluke.

We’re unfortunately moving past fluke and towards-

Nope.  Not going to go there.  Because I definitely don’t think about Sam like that.  Furthermore, I don’t
want
to think about Sam like that.

“Much,” I squeak as my heart continues jackhammering painfully under my breast.

Glancing around, he asks, “So, where’s what’s-his-face? Doesn’t he usually meet you after class on Tuesdays and Thursdays?”

I send him one of those
I-don’t-really-want-to-talk-about-it
looks and he immediately starts chortling.  Which is so not a good look on him.  “Jeez, Vi, ran another one off already, huh?  That was fast.  Even for you.”

“Eight days,” I confirm reluctantly. Which is par for the course where I’m concerned.  My relationships have absolutely zero staying power.  I’ve actually had cartons of milk sitting in my fridge that outlast some of these guys.

Which is… yeah… just plain sad.

“I don’t know why you even bother.”

Shaking my head, I have to agree with the sentiment. “Me, neither.”

“Off to sociology?”

I’m not even sure why he asks.  The guy probably knows my schedule better than I do.

“Yup, then I’m done for the day.”  Although I do have a ton of studying to plow my way through this afternoon.  Which is pretty standard.  There is no shortage of books that need cracking and papers that need writing. 

“I have philosophy at one, film review, and then another practice to run through.  So you heading to that party or what, Winterfield?  Not much else going on tonight.”  His arm tightens around my shoulders drawing me closer until I’m able to get a heady whiff of his delicious smelling cologne.

That thought very nearly sends me stumbling.

Seriously… WTF?

“After all the parties we missed because of Rickets class, not to mention studying for the LSAT, we’ve earned it.”  Trying his best to cajole me into going, he adds, “Come on, Vi, it’s supposed to be a huge monster bash.  No one does it better than the Sigmas.”

Well, he’s not lying about all the parties that have been missed because of writing that paper for Rickets’ class and studying for the law school entrance exam, which we both took in September.

Hmmm…  I have to admit that he makes damn good sense.  Maybe we do deserve to cut loose, if only for a night.

That being said, I still hedge.  “I have to see if Mia’s up for it, but yeah, we’ll probably end up stopping by at some point.”  Mia is my roommate as well as best friend.  We met freshman year in English one-oh-two.

You know when you meet someone, and right from the get go it feels as if you’ve known them for your entire life?  That’s exactly the way it was with us.  We just fell into an easy comradery.  Sam is the only other person I’ve ever clicked with like that.  Normally it takes some time for me to warm up and feel comfortable.

But not with Mia.

This is our third and final year rooming together. Quite frankly, I’m going to miss the crap out of her after graduation. Mia’s plans are to move to Philadelphia where her boyfriend, Carter, lives and right now, I have absolutely no idea where I’ll end up studying law.  Worse, I won’t know until the spring when my (fingers crossed) acceptance letters start rolling in.

Sam squeezes me to him so that I’m pressed up against all the hard defined lines of his body. I hate to admit that my pulse skitters just a bit at the contact.

“Cool.  Text me when you’re heading over.”

Ha!

I give him something of a noncommittal response because I know
exactly
why he wants to nail down my ETA.  This is nothing new.  Samuel J. Harper considers himself to be my unofficial big brother.  Which basically means that even though I haven’t asked him to look out for me, he insists on doing it anyway.

End result- the guy is a major cock blocker.

In all honesty, he could lay off with the whole big scary brother act he’s got going on.  I’m twenty-one years old and certainly no timid virgin.  Sometimes I seriously have to wonder if he’s under the misconception that we’re living in Victorian England...

And he needs to safeguard my virtue.

Too late for that, dude.

Much too late.

What I actually suspect is that he enjoys frightening off potential suitors.

I almost snort.

Okay, okay, we’re talking one night stands here.  I’m not exactly looking for a life partner at this point.  I’m focused on finishing out my senior year before heading off to law school.

But still… a girl has her needs.

And really, I should be allowed to blow off steam just like he is.  Unfortunately, because of his height and sheer muscle mass, it isn’t all that difficult for him to deter prospective candidates.  Sadly, I’ve yet to find a dude who will stand up to him.  And if they’re not willing to to do that, then they probably aren’t worth my time.

The guy definitely needs a girlfriend to preoccupy him.  Maybe then he’d leave my damn ass alone.

“Alright, Vi, I’ll catch you later.”

With that, Sam drops a quick kiss on the side of my face before taking off.  As I watch his long legged strides eat up the concrete pathway, two girls sidle up next to me.  For just a moment, all three of us silently watch Sam’s large retreating figure until he finally disappears into the thick crowd.

They sigh in total male appreciation.

The blonde wearing a beanie on her head clears her throat as my eyes swing curiously to her. “So, we were just wondering what the deal is between you and Sam Harper.”

Not saying a word, I merely raise a brow.

Yeah, I know
exactly
what kind of intel these girls are after.  They want to know if Sam and I are sleeping together.  Since we tend to spend a lot of time hanging out, people just naturally assume that we are.

I may not be into Sam that way (I’m really not), but I’m totally aware of his finer points.    He towers a few inches over six feet with a body honed by both football and weights.  He’s got thick, dirty blond hair and bright piercing ocean hued eyes.  But the real draw, in my opinion, is that he’s a seriously nice guy.

One of the best you’ll ever meet.

When I moved in with my grandparents, Sam was the only kid who went out of his way to pry me out of my shell.  We spent that entire summer playing video games in his room, going to the movies, hanging out at the mall, and swimming at the country club his family belonged to.

The blonde’s sly brown eyes dart to the brunette at her side.  “You know… is he your boyfriend?”

Letting them off the hook, because I recognize both of them from Rickets’ class and they seem like nice girls, I allow the edges of my lips to tip upwards before finally shaking my head.  “Nah, we’re not together like that.”

Looking surprised by my words, the blonde clarifies, “So you have absolutely no interest in him?  Because I don’t want to poach someone else’s man.”

See?  I like her even more now.  This chick has just solidified her position as the number one girl I’m planning to push in Sam’s direction.

“Nope, we went to high school together.  We’re just good friends.”

Shaking her head, a big smile reveals a row of beautiful white teeth.  “How are you
just friends
with someone as hot as him?”  She eyes me as if I’m crazy.

Unfortunately that’s the precise moment the image of his shirt riding up during the middle of class, revealing those rock solid abs, nudges its way back into my brain.  I clear my throat uncomfortably.  “Just not interested.”

I’m really not.

Honest.

So I feel a little zing of attraction between us every once in a while?  So what?  My guess is that it’s completely normal.  Certainly nothing to get bent out of shape over.

The brunette elbows her curvy friend before waggling her eyebrows.  “Well, her loss is your gain, Allie.”

Quickly my eyes run the length of her.

Long blonde hair and deep brown eyes.

Check. 

The thin, body hugging coat she’s wearing shows off a rather impressive sized bust.

Another check.

I can’t help but smirk, feeling good about what I’m about to do.  “Actually, you couldn’t be more his type if you tried.  Here,” I decide on the fly, “I’m going to give you his number.  Text him.  See what happens.”  Sam seems to favor girls with long blonde hair, big brown eyes and curvy little bodies.

He is such a typical dude.

Her eyes widen like she’s just won the lottery.  “Really?”

I give her a little wink.  “Absolutely.”

I’m kind of hoping that hooking him up with someone else will put the kibosh on all these strange little bursts of attraction that keep zipping around within me.  What I really want is for everything to just slide back to normal between us.  And maneuvering this girl in front of him is the perfect way to do it.

She beams.  “Thanks!  I’ll definitely text him.”  Shaking her head, she introduces herself, “I’m Allie, by the way.”  She cocks her head towards her sidekick.  “And this is Lanie.”

I give them both a smile. “Violet.  Just tell him that I gave you his number.  He won’t mind at all.”  I give the pair a little wave. “Okay, well, I’ve got to hustle to sociology. But good luck with Sam.”

“Thanks again!”  They both wave in return before our small group splinters apart.

I’m not going to lie, I’m kind of feeling like a pimp right now.  Which I should probably feel bad about.  Except that Sam is a hot, twenty-two year old, football playing college dude.  My guess is that he’ll appreciate me steering this chick his way.

Added side benefit- it gets him off my ass.

Which is clearly a win-win situation in my book.

Chapter Two

Sam

“Dude, I’m curious- when was the last time you got laid?”  Dylan pauses for just a beat before forging ahead with the conversation, “I’m being totally serious right now.”