Page 4 of Of Flesh & Bone

Chapter 2

The Captain

"I'm telling you guys.You should've seen this girl.The perfect height, if you know what I mean," Cal gestures to his hip area, letting us know just how tall this girl wasn't.

"How many times in my life am I going to meet a cheerleader who is also a yoga instructor on the side?Maybe one more time tops."

I’m only half listening as he continues on with something about the Kama Sutra opportunities involved with this girl.My mind keeps wandering back to...her.Why?It was only a moment, and she's obviously a class 1 bitch.Even if my Ace hadn’t confirmed it for me, her intense glare and that brutal silence screamed unapproachable.Not my type.I prefer my women to be compliant.So why am I thinking about her?Why did I dream about her?Why was my first thought this morning about why I didn’t ask Ace what her name was?

I internally remind myself.It doesn’t matter.She doesn’t matter.Ace, Cal, and Cotton are the only people here who truly matter.

Bringing my mind back to the conversation, I realize that Cal is still fantasizing aloud when Cotton stands and says, “As illuminating as this step by step of the Kama Sutra has been, we’re going to be late if we don’t get to class.”

“Right, I’m placing a bookmark right here then and we’ll pick up with position number eight, the Pretzel Dipper, after practice.”

Cotton and I look at each other, conveying a silent‘this fucking guy.’

The three of us walk out of the media room and out into the hallway, halting and turning, when we hear quick footsteps coming straight for us.

“Humph” comes from the hooded leggy thing as it smacks right into my back before bouncing off me and slamming to the floor.I’ve never been accused of being a gentleman and I have no interest in changing that now, so I turn and glare down at...something...beautiful.Someone...beautiful.

The hood is still up on the grey hoodie and it's much too big, covering the top half of her face, but I can see that graceful neck, the sharp jawline, full lips, and large, straight white teeth.There’s something about this girl on the floor.Something enticing.Something uniquely her.Bitch or not, I'm intrigued.

I silently will her to remove the hood.Show me your face.Tell me your name.

She’s lying flat on her back and clearly in pain.Quickly rolling to her side she grits out “fucker” as she gets to her knees, stands, and walks away straight into my classroom.

Cal and Cotton burst into laughter the moment she calls me a fucker.No one talks to me like that.Ever.If I hadn’t been so mesmerized by this woman’s unexplainable appeal and then stunned by her aggressive critique, I would have snatched her up by the back of her shirt and asked her who the fuck she thinks she is.

Turning back to the two assholes who are still laughing, "She's about to regret that.”

I walk into class, and it hasn’t started yet.It’s quiet, and there are a significant number of seats available.There are never many people in here because it’s a small group.Few people can keep up in a real analysis class.

Looking around, searching for her I notice she's at the front of the room.The professor’s desk.She's speaking with Stalk in a hushed voice, as if it's a private conversation only; he isn’t doing the same.I can hear every word he speaks to her.He's telling her about his recommendations for her upcoming sophomore year.So...she’s a freshman.Good to know.How is she even in this class?

Pretty sure the majority of us here are seniors.

The professor is talking to her about an internship that she can apparently start right away."Think about it.I feel that it's a really good opportunity and no one is better suited for the position.We’ll talk more about it again later after you've had some time to consider all your options."Her part of the conversation is too quiet for me to hear if she's agreeing to any of what he’s proposing to her.

I want to continue watching her.Where does she sit?

I've never noticed her before.Assuming that she must sit in the back, I make my way up the steps to take a seat in the rear of the class even though I never sit there.My usual seat is at the front, so I can make a quick exit.I'm typically one of the last people into class but I'm me, so my seat is always empty and waiting.

Heads turn and I feel curious gazes on me as I make my way to the back of the room.Everyone knows me and they know I'm straying from my normal routine.Why people are so damn curious about every fucking thing I do is a mystery to me and one I don’t care enough to think too hard on.

I take my seat as the professor and the profanity spewer end their conversation.She turns away from him, making her way up the steps toward the back.Toward where I'm sitting.She doesn’t look up, so I know that she doesn’t know I'm here.In fact, she doesn’t look at a single person in the room as she makes her way to her seat one row in front of me and slightly to my right.Perfect.

Is she purposefully ignoring everyone?Or is she just the queen of all bitches?

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