Campus God (Campus) - Page 78

“Challenge accepted.”

With that, I swing around and carry her to the bed.

32

BROOKE

It’s the incessant ringing of my phone that rouses me from a deep slumber. With a groan, I roll toward the nightstand and reach for the slim device. It takes a few fumbling attempts to locate it. My eyes are barely cracked open as I press the green button and force out a greeting.

“Brooke?” There’s a pause. “Are you there?”

The sound of my mother’s clipped tone has me jerking wide awake. Sunlight streams through the unadorned windows, bathing everything in brightness. My eyes water as I blink, trying to find my bearings.

I clear my throat, hoping I don’t sound as groggy as I feel. “Um, yeah.”

“You’re not still in bed, are you?” Disapproval fills her voice. “It’s almost nine. Aren’t you supposed to be in class?”

Surprised that she knows my schedule, I glance at the clock next to the bed.

Well, shit. She’s right. I overslept.

“Yeah. I had a late night...” My voice trails off before I tack on hastily, “Studying.”

Don’t ask what my attention was focused on, but the session lasted into the early hours of the morning.

And you know what?

I don’t regret it one bit. Even if I am having to tap dance through an early morning conversation with Elaine before I’ve had any caffeine to assist the blood flow to my brain.

“I should probably get moving so I’m not late.” Although, unless it’s possible for me to teleport, there’s no way I’ll make it to class on time.

Just as I’m about to disconnect, Mom says, “I did call for a reason.”

“Oh?”

I glance at Crosby as he shifts before throwing an arm across his face. The sinewy muscle that makes up his bicep and chest bunches and flexes with the movement. My mouth dries as my attention gets snagged by his gorgeous body.

“Brooke?” Mom’s tone turns sharp. “Are you listening?”

I rip my gaze away from the gorgeous male sprawled out next to me. There’s no way I can pay attention to her while eating him up with my eyes. No female with a beating pulse could pull off just such a feat.

Crosby Rhodes is hotness personified.

“Yeah, sorry,” I mutter, only wanting to get this over with.

“So, you’ll be able to make it tonight?”

“Make it to what?”

“Dinner,” she snaps, losing her patience. “I called to invite you to dinner this evening.”

“Oh…”

Crap. I wasn’t expecting another invitation to be issued so soon. Barely have I recovered from the last two interactions.

“I don’t know,” I hedge. “I’ve got a lot of homework to do, not to mention an upcoming test.”

“I’m sure you can shift a few things around and spare an hour or so for your family. Garret will be joining us. I really do hope you aren’t too busy for him after everything he’s done for you. I have to say, that’s not the way you repay someone for taking care of all your expenses,” she chides.

Ugh.

Guilt. Always with the guilt. The woman is a master manipulator.

“Fine,” I grumble. “I’ll be there.”

“Excellent. Reservations have been made for six sharp at Les Nomades. And please dress appropriately. No jeans.”

“All right.”

My attention once again becomes snagged by Crosby as his eyelids flutter, and he angles his head toward me. If he’s going for the sexy bedroom look, he’s nailed it without even trying. I just want to kiss him.

Actually, I want to do way more than that.

“Goodbye, Brooke.”

“Bye.” Without taking my gaze off him, I stab the red button and drop the phone on the nightstand.

“Who was that?” he asks with a stretch. The languid motion has the sheet slipping further down his body, revealing rock-hard abs and an enviable V that disappears beneath the covers.

“Elaine.”

“Oh, yeah? What’d she want this early in the morning?” he asks around a yawn.

This guy is beyond delicious. My core dampens as a fresh wave of arousal crashes over me. No matter how many times I have him, it’s not nearly enough to satiate the deep well of need he’s managed to tap into. I’ve never felt this turned on in my life. It’s nothing short of a revelation. Now that I’ve experienced this kind of all-consuming lust, there’s no way I can go back to lackluster, unfulfilling sexual encounters.

Distracted by the play of muscles across his body, I mutter, “I have to meet her and my stepfather for dinner tonight.”

As he rolls toward me, his hand wraps around the nape of my neck before pulling me to him so his mouth can brush over mine.

“That sucks.”

“That’s an understatement.”

His lip ring drifts across my flesh.

“Want me to come with?”

I blink, jerking away in surprise so I can search his eyes. I can’t tell if he’s fucking with me or not. Whatever this is between us is still in its baby stages. Why would he want to have dinner with my parents?

Tags: Jennifer Sucevic Romance
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