It’s a surprise when her expression softens. Some of the lines of tension straining her face drain away as she shakes her head. “It’s fine. We can put in a few hours here and then I’ll head home and study for my quiz.”
With a nod, we delve straight in. We’re looking at what causes financial instability among business giants. It’s an interesting topic with plenty of material to pour over. Our biggest issue has been narrowing it down to our thesis statement. We could easily write a book on the subject. Hell, dozens of them have already been published on the issue. It’s research rich.
It’s vaguely that I recall ending up in the same section of an introductory accounting class with Sydney freshman year. This is the second course we’ve had together. To say it was a surprise to learn that she’s an accounting major is an understatement. Her personality doesn’t quite fit the stereotype. The girl is a real firecracker. I have a difficult time imagining her hunched over a desk, crunching numbers all by her lonesome for sixteen hours a day during tax season.
After about two hours of shoring up our research, I found a few more references that back up our assertion. With a stretch of my muscles, I glance up. That’s all it takes for my gaze to fasten on the girl across from me. Her brows are furrowed in concentration as she pours over a document on her computer. For just a few moments, I’m able to study her while she’s unaware of my perusal. If she realized what I was doing, the intensity would be replaced with a dark scowl. I don’t think I’ve ever met a girl who was so hostile to my advances. Usually, I can charm the panties right off the opposite sex.
That’s not the case with this one. She’s liable to bite my hand off if I even try.
I’ve often wondered what it is about Sydney that has captured my interest so completely. She’s pretty with long, blonde hair and vibrant, green-colored eyes. They’re almost the exact shade of freshly-mowed grass. If you look closely enough, there’s a delicate smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. She’s probably around five-foot-six with a tight, athletic body and muscular legs from years of kicking around a soccer ball.
And her breasts...
My gaze unconsciously drops to them.
She’s wearing a turquoise Dri-Fit T-shirt that hugs the roundness of her chest. Most guys are all about the tits and ass. The more curves, the better. I don’t necessarily feel that way. Sure, I like breasts. What red-blooded, college-aged guy doesn’t? But I don’t need to be smothered to death by them when a chick is riding me. And yeah, there’s been a few times when I thought that asphyxiation was a genuine possibility.
It wouldn’t be a bad way to go, I’m just saying...
But Sydney isn’t built like that at all. Her breasts would be the perfect palmful.
Not that I would know. As much as I’d like to find out for myself, that’s not going to happen. The girl would probably take me out if I were to accidently graze her boob.
I’m still lamenting the fact that I’ll never get my hands on her when movement from the corner of my eye catches my attention. Since we’re camped out on the third floor of the library, there isn’t much student traffic. It’s quieter up here. People aren’t constantly stopping by the table, wanting to shoot the shit about the football season and our chances of bringing home a conference championship. I have no problem talking about that, but not when I’m with Sydney. This is about as much alone time as I’m going to get with her, and I need to take advantage of it.
My gaze flickers to the couple who has now settled at a table on the other side of the space.
Wait a minute—
Is that Sydney’s boyfriend Ethan?
No way.
I’ve known Ethan Price since freshman year. We lived on the same floor in the dorms. It’s grudgingly that I’ll admit he’s a decent guy. He’s not one of those boyfriends who conveniently forgets he’s in a relationship when he’s out with the bros. I’ve known plenty of dudes like that. Not only do they want their cake, but they want to devour it, too. They want as much fucking cake as they can stuff in their pie holes.
Ethan has never struck me as that type.
So, what the hell is he doing here with another chick?
By this point, I’m craning my neck, watching them with open interest. Ethan hasn’t even bothered to glance in our direction. He’s focused on the tall brunette parked across from him. There’s lots of smiling and laughing. A few touches here and there.
My brows rise, recognizing flirty behavior when I see it.