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“What’s the big deal?” she asks. “It’s just sex. It’s bumping uglies with a pretty girl for fun. Nothing you haven’t done before, right, Heartbreaker? The irresistible quarterback? Everybody gets a pass?”
I fix my jaw. This isn’t a question of whether I could. Could I have sex with Dana Kirby? Of course I could.
It’s whether I should.
And I definitely shouldn’t.
“I can’t,” I say again.
Courtney touches her headphones. “Well, if you won’t, someone else will. How’s that sit with you?” she asks, sliding them back on as she shifts beneath the squat bar again. “Now, shoo. These yams don’t pump themselves.”
I step away, letting her get back to her workout.
Someone else will.
“I have other candidates in mind.”
Those six words kept me up all night. That Dana would be with somebody else, somebody who doesn’t care about her like I do.
Not that Courtney was right or anything. I’m not in love with her.
I’m not.
“Hey, buddy. Shouldn’t you be in class?”
I halt before walking right into a man I’ve known for as long as I’ve known Dana. Tall. Thick in the shoulders but narrow in the waist. Built for speed over strength, but no less powerful. John Kirby. Co-owner of Champion’s Gym. My best friends’ dad.
“Connor?”
Dana’s dad.
“You okay?”
Yeah.
Totally not thinking about maybe popping your daughter’s cherry.
“I’m good,” I spit out. “Just stopped by to talk to Courtney.” About sex. With your daughter. “On my way to campus right now, sir.” Where I will very much not be having sex. With your daughter.
“Good.” John folds his arms, the sleeves of his Champion’s Gym T-shirt stretching over his biceps. There’s yet another reason I shouldn’t be considering this. I’d never make it down the block before he caught up and beat me to death. “Go to class. Every class,” he says, chuckling. “Don’t believe me, just ask your dad what academic probation is like.”
I nod, forcing a smile. “Don’t worry, sir. I believe you.”
He pats my arm as he passes, leaving me lingering between two guys grunting mid-bench press.
Go to class. Every class.
Try not to think about Dana.
CHAPTER 7
DANA
I fold the campus map, shoving it into my jeans pocket as I enter Talon Hall. I don’t really need it. I walked the main area of campus countless times this summer, but I still keep it close for some reason. I’m a bright-eyed, bushy tailed freshman. A newbie. A virgin, in more ways than one.
But I won’t be forever.
Taking a breath, I navigate the lobby. It’s huge, with vaulted ceilings towering above my head. Several hallways extend in every direction like limbs on a spider, the main signs navigating toward the auditorium. Talon Hall is dedicated to theatre and arts majors. Not the place I expected to be very often.
