Page 11 of Big Bad Girl

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“Well…Thanks!” My eyes go to the backpack on his shoulder. “On your way out?”

He lies, “No, I was on my way in.”

This is too adorable. “And you decided to double back to help me?”

“Yeah,” he lies again.

I smile wider. “Well, thank you. That’s very sweet. Happy studying!”

Thank god he has a book he can pretend to read and doesn’t interrupt. I forget he’s there at one point, and I drop my pencil. When I bend over to retrieve it, he’s there, and I accidentally flash him a lot of tits in this tank top I’m wearing under my denim jacket.

“Thank you,” I say.

“No problem.”

I don’t know how much time passes, but the longer I sit there, the more I catch him staring at me.

He’s going to ask me out; I know it.

And as much as I would love that, I know I can’t get involved with someone right now. I’ve gone out on dates with guys my sorority sisters have set me up on, knowing those dates would not go anywhere. But…this is the kind of guy I could develop a crush on.

Get a grip, Mila. You killed someone in cold blood. You plotted it out. Revenge is not a good look, and though I’m at peace with my decision, I know this man is far too mild-mannered for all of that baggage.

And so, when he introduces himself to me—Ozzie, because of course he has to have a name that makes him stand out in my mind—and asks me out, I give him my name before politely declining. As much as I want to say yes, I have to say no.

“Yeah, you probably have a boyfriend,” he says, almost too quickly.

I squint at him. “No. I’m saying no because I…don’t…want to?”

He stammers and turns beet red. “Right. Sorry.”

I lift one shoulder. “I’m pretty sure my sisters have some dumb activity tonight.”

“Oh. Sorority.”

He seems surprised. Why would he be surprised when he doesn’t even know me?

“Yeah, Beta Beta Psi,” I say, narrowing my eyes at him. “Why do you say it like that?”

“You seem…too…I don’t know. Not…into that.”

I snort. “You think sorority girls are all tiny cheerleaders who wear pastels?”

He stammers. “No. Yes. No. Honestly, I have no idea; mostly, I keep to myself.”

I laugh. “Great. You know the phrase ‘he kept to himself’ is usually reserved for neighbors of mass murderers.”

Ozzie chuckles and rubs the pad of one thumb over the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. “I know,” he groans. Oh god, he’s flustered.

“But you’re not wrong,” I say. “I’ll grant you that. Some of the Greek life shit is too much for me. But it’s nice to have built-in friends when you don’t know anybody. It has its advantage.”

We stare at each other for what feels like an eternity but is probably more like a full ten seconds.

“I’m glad you have people looking out for you, Mila.” His eyes, now silvery, rake down my body and back up. As much as he looks like a good boy, I feel utterly naked when he says my name.

I’ve experienced guys undressing me with their eyes, but this feels much different. This man is already performing unspeakable sex acts on my body in his mind.

He licks his lips, and he’s staring at my cleavage.


Tags: Abby Knox Romance