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Tanner Brooks was chasing after me.
Tanner
Mallory leaned in to Charlotte’s ear. “Keep walking.”
What the fuck did I ever do to Mal? I slowed to a walk beside Charlotte. She stiffened, keeping her gaze fixed straight ahead. “Gabe’s a nice guy, but he’s not exactly a gentleman.”
“What?” She turned her striking blue eyes toward me.
I tore my shirt over my head and held it out to her. “You’re going to be cold sitting in class with a wet shirt.”
Her eyes traveled down my torso. Now I had her attention. Girls were so easy. Flash a six-pack at them, and they start drooling.
“Uh … n-no. No thanks.”
No?
“That must be such a foreign word to you.” Mallory snickered.
“Fuck off, Mal.” I looked back at Charlotte, whose eyes were still glued to my body. Good. She was interested. “Charlotte, I’m Tanner.” I draped my shirt over her shoulder and offered her the slight smirk I knew girls loved. “It’s nice to meet you.”
I turned around before she could reject me again and strutted back in the direction of the cafeteria. Let her get a look at my ass as I walk away. It’s a fan favorite.
Who was this girl, and where did she come from? I would have seen her before if she lived on the island. I definitely would’ve tried to get between her legs. She was eating lunch in the cafeteria, so she must go to school here. Then again, so was I, and I didn’t go here. No, I didn’t have the luxury of college.
At my car, I swung my work shirt around my shoulders and buttoned it. Back to reality.
Charlotte
My mouth fell open and I stood there, blinking, as I watched Tanner walk away. I didn’t know if it was from the sheer shock of him giving me the literal shirt off his back, or because I was mesmerized by the way his ass looked in his jeans. That was a good ass to have.
Mallory rolled her eyes. “Reel your tongue in. I’ll go find us seats.”
I changed in the bathroom and ducked into class. Tanner’s shirt smelled like delicious, manly cologne. It was five sizes too big on me, but I was grateful that I did not have to sit in wet embarrassment for the next hour. The air conditioning was cranking in every building in the late-August heat, and I would have been cold. For someone who was preceded by such a scary reputation, Tanner’s gesture was thoughtful and kind.
Ten minutes later, in the middle of Professor Ballard’s lecture, Mallory passed me a note. I had to stifle a laugh when I unfolded it:
Wipe that dreamy look off your face. I know what you’re thinking.
I quickly scribbled my response:
Gabe was cute. What’s his deal?
Mallory huffed as she wrote and then tossed the paper onto my desk the next time Ballard turned to the white board again:
Don’t pretend to be sitting there in Tanner’s shirt thinking about Gabe.
I glared at her and crumpled the note. If Tanner was trouble, then I needed to steer clear of him. I had barely escaped my father’s drama back in Florida, and all I wanted was a quiet, normal life here in my new residence. I focused on the professor for the remainder of class. However, I did allow myself to inhale the scent of Tanner’s shirt several more times before the lecture was over.
When class let out, Mallory and I walked toward the parking lot together. “Don’t walk home today. I’ll give you a ride. It’s sweaty balls out here.”
“I’m going straight to the bakery. I can walk.”
“Shut up and let me give you a ride.”
As grateful as I was, I took my life into my hands every time I got in the car with Mallory. Riding with a New York driver was like a scene out of the movie Speed, except there was no bomb aboard the vehicle, and therefore no reason to drive like a maniac.
The shopping plaza was crowded when we arrived. A white Escalade cut in front of us, and Mallory slammed on the brakes for the third time since we’d gotten in the car. She flipped her middle finger and held down her horn as the driver sped past us.
