Page 26 of Body Check
They both give noncommittal shrugs. “We may stick around for the class, but when we saw your name on the sign up sheet, we had a feeling you might bring your fella back. And since we didn’t get to have a proper chat with him the other night, we thought now might be a good time.”
These guys are so sweet, but I cringe inside. If anything is going to send Dutton running for the hills, it’s my two self-appointed bodyguards who happen to be in their seventies.
“That’s not necessary,” I say, fully aware that my cheeks are probably burning.
But Dutton, this stoic, reserved guy who’s working his way into my heart, gives me a peck on the lips. “I can take it,” heassures me. “You want to get your shoes on and warm up while I talk to the guys?”
I nod and find a chair to sit in while I strap my heels on. Dutton James is full of surprises, and I like it.
12
Dutton
Ihold the door open for Bridgette, and, yes, I stare at her ass as she walks out ahead of me. It’s been a week since our date at the dance hall, and I’ve already become a doting boyfriend. Best job ever. I reach for her hand as we walk toward the library. In a few minutes, she’ll take the path that leads off campus so she can head downtown to her shift at the salon, and I’ll meet up with Blue to study for our upcoming stats test.
For right now, though, I get to spend a few more minutes with my girl. You may want to avert your eyes because we’re probably about to get all cuddly and shit. I’ve never been the snuggly type. I didn’t even sleep with my teddy bear when I was a kid. He sat on a shelf in my room. We respected each other’s personal space. I respect the hell out of Bridgette’s space, too. Well, I get all up in it, and that’s practically the same thing.
“Enjoying your boring plain black coffee?” she asks, gifting me with a smile before she takes a sip of her frothy one.
“It’s delicious,” I tell her as we approach the library. “Want a sip?”
She scrunches her nose up, and it’s cute as fuck. “No, thank you. I’ll stick with my white chocolate cinnamon latte. It’s so yummy. In fact, maybe you should try it.”
She’s swirling her straw in her whipped cream, and I fake a shudder. “Not happening,” I say, leaning my back against the stone exterior and pulling Bridgette close.
“Are you judging my whipped cream? Casting doubt on this most glorious of condiments?”
“It’s not a condiment,” I correct, determined to set this wayward beauty straight. “It’s weird. It’s like milky air. Who wants to taste that?”
“People who like putting delicious things in their mouths,” she retorts. It takes a second for her cheeks to turn pink as she realizes what she just said.
“Really? Tell me more,” I tease, because I’m a filthy bastard like that. Studying with a hard-on isn’t ideal, but I’ve done it several times in the past week and lived to tell the tale, so I’ll survive this, too.
She thinks she’s being slick when she swipes a manicured finger into the pile of whipped cream that tops her drink, and then extends that finger in my direction. I catch her hand easily and turn it back on her, causing a smear of whipped cream to land on her pouty lips.
“Oops,” I say, no trace of contrition in my tone. She looks so damn cute that I can’t help but lean in for a quick kiss. As my lips brush over hers, my life changes forever.I’m now a devout fan of whipped cream.“Fuck. That’s delicious.” My tongue darts out of my mouth to capture any last remnants of sweetness.
Her green eyes shine as she kisses me back. “Told you so. I’ll text you later.”
“You should come to my place later. You can meet the one roommate I actually like, and then we can get coffee. I think you’ve converted me.”
Her laugh is musical as she sashays down the brick walkway. I watch her go, and then I turn to head inside Friedman Library, but I nearly plow right over Blue on my way to the steps. He’s standing like a damn statue in the middle of the sidewalk, his mouth hanging open like he’s a fucking fish or something.
I brush past him, but he doesn’t follow me. He’s just standing there staring at the stone wall where Bridgette and I were saying goodbye.
“What?” I ask, taking a sip of my coffee and wondering what the hell his deal is.
My best friend doesn’t even blink. He just stares blankly and poses a question. “What. The. Fuck. Are. You. Doing?
I roll my eyes because he thinks I’m the dramatic one. “It’s called kissing. It’s fucking awesome. You should try it sometime.”
“Tell me you know who that is,” he says, his voice lethally calm.
“The girl I was kissing goodbye?” I ask, my brow furrowed. What the fuck is his problem?
“That was not just a kiss goodbye, but whatever. Who’s the girl?”
I’ve known Blue almost my entire life, and while he can be a lot to handle, he’s never been this theatrical. “That’s my girlfriend.”
