Stars (Penmore #1) (8 page)

It wasn’t until Professor Gibbons started comparing ethnocentric biases with football team spirit, causing the student beside me to laugh, that I lost my unwavering focus and noticed I had company. Now in hindsight, I wish I had just looked at who was sitting beside me through my peripheral vision. I am sure the very reason we
have
peripheral vision is for occasions just like this. Okay, and maybe for when you’re trying to sneak in a midnight snack and need to ensure not even the shadows can see how much leftover chocolate cake you just inhaled. Unfortunately, I twisted my entire body to check out my new neighbor and had a
holy-shit
-
freak
-
out
moment.

I was close.

Like smell-your-cologne close.

To Grayson
fucking
Waters.

He must have arrived late and decided to hide in the back row. I had never been this close to Grayson. When I was seven, I had stood easily nine feet away from him before I had run away. I also seriously doubt that at eight he had smelled this amazing. An intoxicating mix of nutmeg, cinnamon and musk. So, of course, instead of sitting calmly and trying to breathe in as much of his amazing aroma as I can, I try to make a run for it like I was still that seven year old little girl.

Yep, people think I’m intelligent, but when faced with remaining in close proximity to a boy I have lusted after from afar, I decide immediate impulsive action is required. And foolishly choose to try and grab my handbag faster than humanly possible, leap across other people at the end of our row and head directly toward the exit.

Only there are two problems with my rash behavior.

Firstly, when you suddenly jump to your feet, everyone in the lecture hall looks at you.

Secondly, when I get nervous, I become a total klutz.

So, instead of leaping over people, I trip over some girl’s purse strap on the floor and slam head-first into the hall’s steps leading to the exit.

With everyone watching.

Fuck, it hurts.

I roll over and decide that I really should jump to my feet and get out of here before I embarrass myself further. Although, it might have to be in a couple of minutes, when the room stops spinning.

“Shit, you okay? You hit your head hard. Are you seeing stars?”

Oh my God.
Grayson Waters is no longer sitting beside me. He must have followed me.

Grayson Waters is now leaning over me and checking me for injuries. And by checking, I mean touching me.

Grayson Waters is
touching
me.

Skin on skin. Hard on smooth.

No. No. No. This can’t be happening.

His rough but warm hands slowly sweep my brown hair away from my forehead and lightly feel for bumps.

“Um, yes. I mean no.”

“Are you confused? Sometimes, when guys on the team have concussions, they get confused. They struggle to process information.” Then he pauses, flashes me his dimple and asks, “Or do you normally talk like this? “

Grayson Waters just asked me a question.

And is smiling at me, my favorite smile.

And looking at me. He is making very focused and intense eye contact with
me
.

Shit. Grayson Waters is also asking me questions and waiting for me to respond. And I’m just gawking at his smile and staring into his ocean-blue eyes. Damn it, I should have practiced this in the mirror.

“Um, yes. I mean, I think so.”

“So, do I need to call an ambulance?” he asks.

“Maybe just the morgue. Pretty sure everyone is staring and I’m dying from embarrassment.”

He chuckles. Grayson Waters just chuckled at me. He probably thought I was joking.

“Maybe they’re seeing stars. I’m a little dazzled myself.”

I totally did not understand that. I’m not the star.
He’s
the star. Thankfully, before I can reply, he offers his hand and helps pull me up. As soon as I’m standing, everyone else stops watching us like we’re a reality TV show and resumes watching Professor Gibbons. Who apparently doesn’t feel the need to check on one of his injured students when the quarterback for the football team gives him a nod. I figure I’ll be irritated by that fact when my head isn’t pounding and I’m not facing the boy of my dreams.

“Thanks for your help,” I say softly then swiftly collect my fallen belongings to make my way through the exit. I was ready to take a breath of relief after entering the quad when Grayson Waters strides up beside me.

“Hey, Stars, have we met before?” he asks as he falls into step beside me.

“Um, Stars?” I timidly query.

“Thought Stars would be better than Stairs,” he says through soft laughter. “So, have I seen you at one of the games or parties?”

“Nope. Definitely not. I just have one of those faces.”

“Babe, you definitely do
not
have one of those faces.”

“Um, thanks, I guess. Anyway, I would love to stay and chat, but I have work tonight so I should probably get going. Thank you again for helping me before.” All right, so work didn’t start for another nine hours, but he didn’t know that.

“Cool. I guess I’ll see you same time next week then. Bye, Stars.” He flashes his dimple at me one more time before heading toward the cafeteria.

“Um, I guess so,” I reply, quickening my steps to carry me away from the horror of the past fifteen minutes and the very first conversation I had with a boy I’ve been watching for thirteen years. Holy hell, I just had an actual conversation with
Grayson Waters
and it wasn’t in a dream. Although, he still didn’t ask for my name.

I really need to call Keeley. Or Nate. Or maybe I tell no one because there is no way that just really happened anywhere other than inside my head.

GRAYSON

I’ve been struggling to get to my classes this semester and go to training. If it weren’t for the school’s online system and most teachers uploading their lectures, my grades would probably be shit right now. As I make my way toward the cafeteria, I decide I am going to be making a
big
effort Tuesday mornings to get to class from now on. Damn, that girl looked good. Her long, chocolate locks spread out around her heart-shaped face with big, golden eyes widely staring up at me. I can’t help but grin, thinking about her timid actions. I love it when I make them nervous. When they don’t look at me like they know all about me and are prepared to eat me alive.

Makes the game so much better when I have a chance to pursue them. Coax them out of their shell and out of their skin-tight jeans. I fucking hate it when girls on campus try and play me. When they start stripping before I even get a chance to touch a single button.

D is sitting at one of the tables in the cafeteria when I walk in. I’m tossing up whether or not to mention the gorgeous brunette as I pull up a seat. I say anything about her and I know he’ll come up with some stupid excuse to attend class with me next week. I’ll be stuck watching him wink at her all lesson. And unlike the other girls I’ve been with, some part of me wants to keep her beautiful amber eyes to myself. “Still carb-loading?” I ask, chuckling at the fact that D is devouring what looks to be his fifth pudding.

“Dude, Tuesdays are pudding days. Nothing is better than pudding,” Andy replies between bites. “On second thought, there
is
something better than pudding. But it has been a very long three weeks without that taste in my mouth, so I’m fucking eating as much pudding as I fucking want.”

I can’t help but laugh at D’s frustrated expression. “Just tell the boys the bet’s off and then you can continue eating what we both know you wish you were eating every Tuesday.”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I can’t help but imagine what amber eyes will look like when I eat her. She had blushed a light pink color each time I spoke to her earlier. I bet her color would change even more as I moved down her body. I would gamble my current savings that her shades of pink turn darker as I lick along her stomach just where it meets the top of her jeans; and then deepening to an even darker shade of red as I slowly unzip those jeans and taste the skin between her thighs. She would moan as I lightly trace her clit with my tongue. Unlike our time in the hall, she would move
my
hair away; watching
my
face as I make her moans turn into screams.

“Can’t end the bet. I’m going to win it,” Andy says, breaking me from my vivid fantasy and reminding me that I’m still on campus. Fuck, I have never met a girl who’s had me envisioning pleasuring her after just meeting so much that I’m adjusting myself in the damn cafeteria. Sure, I’ve imagined fucking or being sucked by a chick I’ve just met. But wanting to know what I can do to
her
.

How long it will take me to make
her
scream.

If I’ll be the best she’s ever had.

The
only
one she’s ever had.

I’ve never thought about that before. Shit.

“Dude, you okay?” Andy asks, pausing from his pudding consumption to give me a once-over.

“Yeah, just thinking how straight-up fucked you are, bro. You thinking you’re going to win that bet is like thinking
Pineapple Express
could win an Oscar. Dude, it’s never happening.”

“
Pineapple Express
should
have won an Oscar. It was hilarious.”

“Dude, there was a lot of dope smoking in
Pineapple Express
. But the fact that you think it’s Oscar-worthy shows me how you could also be convinced that some poor chick is going to get into bed with you after you wink at her.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll be eating your words soon enough,” D replies, winking at me.

Fuck.

Now I’m worried that D might manage to score some chick before I get to see how big I can make those amber eyes become. Hell, I can’t even remember the last time I’ve asked a girl out on a date. I guess with girls at Penmore constantly chasing me, it’s been a while since I’ve had to worry when or if a girl will be interested in me.

As I watch D lick his spoon, I can’t help but wonder if she’ll want to have some pudding with me next Tuesday.

The thought makes me smile wide.

Let the chase begin.

GRAYSON

I’ve never been early to a class in my life. Even my favorite writing classes, I was always stuck having to email my teachers, apologize for my absence and ask for any notes they may have handed out. And it looked like I wasn’t going to have better luck today as I jog across the quad to the main lecture hall at Penmore. A few Herons fans try and grab my attention, but I’m focused on getting to the one girl who has been starring in all my fantasies this week. I’ve never thought about impressing a girl. But as I approach Professor Gibbons’s sociology class, I’m worried about how I look or if I smell okay, like a freaking prom queen getting ready for homecoming. I knew the class was already halfway through, since morning practice had run over time, but I am determined to get there.

Even if I’m only there for a second.

Inconveniently, I was so nervous and worried I would miss the chance to see Stars again that I left all my books in the locker room. I’m going to look like a dumb jock sitting in class with
no
fucking books
. Shit. I probably also smell like the putrid locker room, or worse, like an eager freshman who overuses his cologne.

She’ll probably choke on it and go running.

Probably why she ran last time.

Christ
.

If D knew the nauseating thoughts running through my head as I open the classroom doors, he’d mock me for a fucking week. Granted, if he knew I had been preoccupied with thoughts of one girl for an entire week, he’d probably announce it to the whole team and start a new bet on how long it takes for me to grow a vagina. But I can’t seem to help it. Even with practice and school, my mind has been filled all week with the vision of Stars laid out before me.