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But I ride a scooter. And the bees kept to the flowers.
The truth is, I stopped to down a Diet Coke and a bag of cashews before heading to class. Even so, I hate being late.
It sets a bad precedent. I slide into a seat in the back just as a guy barrels down the aisle in the same hurried fashion and sits in the desk next to mine. Keeping my head down, I pull out my notepad and try to look organized and ready for the lecture. The shocked sound has me turning. The sensation is so unnerving that I can only sit there, my hand fluttering to my chest where my heart struggles to break free. Oddly, the guy gapes back at me, as if he too feels the strange kick.
Which must be wrong; no guy has ever gaped at me. Stranger still, it feels as if I know him, have known him for years. Still looking at me, he suddenly speaks. And it causes a stir. People snap out of their morning fog, turn, stare, and start whispering among themselves.
I laughed, I cried. View all 93 comments. Curvy, red hair girl, who used to be invisible, didn't believe that a guy like Drew would choose a girl like her.
He ignores them, watching only me. His name is a ripple through the room. Disappointment is swift and sharp. I have zero interest in getting to know the star quarterback.
Book Review: The Hook Up by Kristen Callihan
Chest tight, I turn away and try to ignore him. Easier said than done. As soon as class ends, I attempt to flee. And nearly run into a solid wall of muscled chest instead. We stand facing each other in silence, me staring see more his chest, and his gaze burning a hole through the top of my head.
Annoyed, I straighten my shoulders and force myself to look aloof. Heat and vitality come off him in waves. I think I sway a bit. He is close enough that I notice the faint stubble along his strong chin and the glints of gold in his brown hair.
He wears it cut short, and thick clusters of it spike along the top and front. But I doubt that was the case, link he smells fantastic—like warm pears and crisp air.
I almost lean in for a better whiff, but manage to control myself. I almost smile, start to rethink my earlier stance of avoidance.
I probably would have skipped it. I think my knees go weak. If only she could ignore his he The rules: Nice to see a football player portrayed with intelligence, control and sensitivity.
Then he opens his mouth and ruins everything. The warm cadence of his voice rolls over me before the words actually make sense. I gape up at him, too shocked to even form a proper glare.
My mind is stuck on one thing. His comment source a punch to the gut. Yet not entirely out of left field.
The Hook Up (Game On #1)
Having been chubby for most of my adolescence has left me sensitive. One stupid word from this guy and I feel the pain all over again, damn it. Somehow, I find my voice. The corners of his eyes crease in what might be a wince. I hate that too.
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Believe me, I was referring to the best of places. As he is staring, he sees and sucks in a sharp breath. He flinches again, his eyes snapping up to my face. Create a free website or blog at WordPress.
I think my knees go weak.