I’m heading back to my apartment for a long evening of studying when I hear a familiar voice call out to me as I walk to my car. I turn to see Kirk, a good friend of mine, waving me down. He’s a year behind me, but we’ve been in the same program for a few years, and because I’m still attending classes here in the grad school, we still see each other a lot.
I stop and wait for him to catch up, assuming he just wants to catch up a little before classes start on Monday. It’s the sort of thing we all do after a summer spent doing different things; maybe he wants to ask how my summer internship went or something. When he reaches me, however, he has a pleading look on his face that tells me I won’t like whatever it is he’s about to say next.
“Hey, man,” he says with a slap to my back.
“Kirk, how’s it going?”
“It’s move-in weekend, so you know, it’s the usual nightmare of lost freshman and helicopter parents.”
I groan in sympathy. Yeah, there’s no way I could do it. I’m sure he only does it because of the free room and board.
“Anyway,” Kirk continues. “Remember that favor you owe me for covering your ass last semester?”
Narrowing my eyes at him, I nod my head slowly.
“Well, I need to cash that in. There’s a kid on my floor whose rooming assignment got screwed up. I sent her to Student Housing, but you know how it is. She won’t be able to do anything about it until Monday, so she won’t have anywhere to go for the weekend.”
Ouch. Student housing is stone cold. I know that from experience, but I can’t help wondering why he’s talking to me about it. “And why is that something you need to tell me?” I ask.
“Well, I kind of feel bad? She’s just a kid, you know? And well, I know you’re off campus this year, and I know you know what it’s like to deal with Student Housing.”
“Wow, really?” I know what Kirk is asking, even though he hasn’t spelled it out yet. No fucking way am I letting this girl stay with me. “Can’t she—”
“Dude, you know all the hotels are going to be full this weekend. I thought she could stay with you, just for a few days. I’d offer to let her stay with me in my dorm, but I can’t risk my RA position if someone finds out.”
There it is. “No way, absolutely not. I live in a studio apartment, and I have a ton of studying to do. I have to get top grades this semester. I don’t have time to babysit some freshman.”
Kirk’s expression hardens. “You owe me. I covered your ass for that exam. If not for me, you would’ve failed your econ course.”
Shit. He’s right. I’d gotten food poisoning before finals last year and missed a crucial exam for my economics class. The professor only offered one make-up session, and if Kirk hadn’t given me notes for the classes I couldn’t get to, I would’ve missed it.
“Fine, but after this, we’re square,” I say through gritted teeth.
Kirk smiles at me and throws an arm around my shoulders. I’m taller than him by a few inches, so it’s a bit awkward. “Awesome! I knew you’d come around. Let’s go see if we can find her. Her name is Maci, you’ll love her. She’s a business major, too.”
I groan. Every year, I deal with a swarm of freshman who think a business major will be an easy way to a degree. Inevitably, I have to deal with all their whining when they realize their courses require actual studying to pass. Fortunately, this year, I snagged the TA position for the advanced undergrad courses. It’s highly unlikely this Maci girl will be in any of the sections I’m teaching.
I follow Kirk across campus to the administration building, but thankfully, it doesn’t take long to find her. He perks up after noticing someone and leads me across the quad to a bench with a person sitting on it, their head in their hands.
This must be Maci. She has a riot of dark curls that hide her face from view, but when we step up to her, she looks up and locks eyes with me. I’m nearly knocked backwards onto my ass.
It’s not like I haven’t seen plenty of pretty girls on campus, but something about this one is different. Perhaps it’s the way her green eyes almost glow with intelligence, despite the tears trailing down her cheeks, or the curves that will not quit underneath her snug t-shirt and the tight jeans I can’t help but imagine peeling down her long legs. Repaying this favor to Kirk might not be such a hardship after all.
But no, I don’t do freshmen. Or undergrads, for that matter, not now that I’m a grad student. This girl has to be what, eighteen? I’m twenty-three. That’s a recipe for disaster I don’t need. I have to keep my grades up if I want to be hired on permanently where I had my internship after graduation. I don’t need a distraction. And Maci is very much a distraction, biting her lip and trying desperately not to cry. Her gulping breaths make her t-shirt strain across her very nice tits. My hands curl, wanting to cup each heavy orb. Damn it.
Kirk asks her how it went with Student Housing, and it seems to have gone just as he’d expected. I introduce myself and try to be encouraging and sympathetic, remembering all too well that I’d found myself in a similar situation my freshman year when my scholarship money had been delayed. It’s obvious that she’s scared and has no idea what to do next.
She’s confused when I tell her she can stay with me for a bit, but she finally agrees to come with me. I don’t know why, but something in my chest swells at the realization that she clearly trusts me enough to come home with me. I push the feeling aside and grab her bag before leading her to my car. No distractions. No letting myself get distracted.
Once we’re in my apartment, I make show of ignoring her. I have to study. This detour in my day has already taken a big chunk out of my study time. But I can’t help sneaking glances at her reflection in my computer screen while I pretend to read the textbook in front of me. First, she looks over my books, then she pulls one off a shelf and sits down primly on my couch, crossing and uncrossing her legs and driving me slowly insane.
I try to concentrate on my studies, but I sense her getting up from the couch and moving around behind me. At her soft intake of breath, I whirl around to glare at her. She’s standing at my kitchen counter and has my summer internship welcome packet in her hands.
“This is really impressive,” she says, eyes wide. “I’d love to work for them some day. I’m a business major, too.”
I feel a surge of pride, but why should I care what she thinks of me? It shouldn’t matter at all to me that we probably have a lot in common, based on how interested she looks in my books. I turn back. Ignoring her seems the best option, though she makes it nearly impossible. Her sweet apple scent is taking over my room and adding to my frustration. She smells freaking delicious.
“Can I borrow one of your books?” she asks. “I’m not really sleepy.”
I turn around again with a sigh. She can’t be ignored. “You already have,” I say, gesturing to the book she left on the couch and watching as a blush crosses her cheeks.
“I meant one of those,” she says, pointing to a collection of leather-bound classics on a top shelf. They’re my favorite books, a gift from my grandfather before he’d passed away. I’m honestly surprised she’d have any interest in them.
“Go ahead,” I say, hoping it will keep her quiet longer than the textbook she’d grabbed earlier seemed to. I watch as she moves closer to the bookshelf and stretches onto her toes to reach one of the books. I should just get it for her, but I’m enjoying the view as her clothes strain against her lush curves and the hem of her shirt lifts to reveal a couple inches of smooth, creamy skin. That irritates the hell out of me, and I kick the step stool closer to her with a grunt.
She makes a face that nearly cracks me up as she climbs on the stool, but as she reaches again, it wobbles, and I notice it’s on the edge of the rug. I jump as she teeters backwards with a yelp, grabbing onto the shelf to try to keep herself from falling. The whole bookshelf starts to come away from the wall on top of her. I grab her around the waist and pull her off the stool, twisting so that the avalanche of heavy books rains down on me instead of her.
“Oh my God,” she says, breathless and grateful as she both apologizes and thanks me profusely. “I’ll clean all these up. Don’t worry. Go back to studying. I’m so sorry.”
This time, I’m irritated with myself for not just getting the damn book for her and drop to my knees beside her to help gather up the bits of broken shelf.
She scoots closer to me, her eyes widening as she reaches for my shirt collar. The feel of her fingertips on my neck as she pushes it away almost makes me lose every last ounce of resolve. I recoil like she’s a trap about to spring, my fingers closing over hers. We lock eyes, and I want to tell her to get out, to run before I break all my rules.
“You’re hurt,” she says softly, slipping out of my grasp to touch my neck again. She hops up. “Do you have Band-Aids?”
I stand and go to the bathroom, seeing in the mirror that one of the hard corners must have nicked me. “It’s fine.”
But she’s already rummaging in the bathroom cupboard, coming out with a box of Band-Aids and a tube of antibiotic cream. “Oh, stand still,” she says, reaching as I dodge her. “There could be splinters from the broken shelf in the cut. Let me fix you up.”
Her tone is bossy, and I like it too much to resist. She stands on her tiptoes to reach my cut, finally asking me to sit down in a flustered voice. I walk out to the couch and sit, unable to ignore her anymore, and instantly regret it. She leans over to inspect my cut, giving me a closeup view of her perfect tits, the outline of her lacy bra showing slightly through her t-shirt.
“I, uh, need to undo a button,” she says, fumbling with my shirt.
God, now she’s undressing me? What have I gotten myself into?
Her soft touch as she dabs on the medicine and her gentle breaths on my neck drive me to want to touch her in return. Her curls tumble across her face, and she shoves the shiny strands away, making me want to reach for her hair and hold it back for her. And keep pulling until her chin tips back enough that I can kiss her. Shit, I really don’t need this.
Just as I’m about to shove away, her hands slide to my shoulders, and she smiles down at me. “All done. I don’t have a treat for you for being good, though.”
I can think of a dozen things she can give me as a treat. And even more things I want to give to her. But she’s a freshman, and I have work I need to focus on.
All I can see is her mouth, though, and those tits in my face. With a growl, I stand up so fast, I nearly knock her into the mess on the ground.
“I can’t study like this,” I snarl, stomping toward the door before I wrap my fingers around her waist and yank her onto my lap. “Get this cleaned up by the time I get back.”
I slam out of the apartment, climb into my car, and head back to campus, pissed at myself for losing control and being an ass to Maci for no real reason. To top it off, I stormed out without grabbing the books I need, so now I can’t even study.
