Page 37 of Catch
I love teasing people, but pushing Jett’s buttons is highly addictive. A total rush. Like nothing I’ve ever felt before.
We make our way across campus, and since it’s a gorgeous fall day, tons of students are outside enjoying the weather. I take it all in, but mostly I notice the appreciative stares Jett’s receiving, and I don’t like it. In fact, it makes me downright irritable. I want to wrap my arm around his shoulders—or better yet, shield him with my body—and tell people to look elsewhere. But since when am I ever possessive about another person?
Try never….
Jett doesn’t seem to be aware of the heads turning in his direction; in fact, all his focus is on me as we talk. Which only adds fuel to the overwhelming feelings that I can’t get a handle on. I’m an attention whore and proud of it, but having Jett’s? It’s heady, and I want all of it. As much as I can get and more.
When we reach the dorm, I take off like a sprinter and race up the stairs to open the door for him. Jett slowly follows me inside, looking at me like I’ve lost my goddamn mind.
“I thought you were going to wait for me outside?” he comments.
“Nah. We’re friends now. Come on, show me your room.”
Jett lets out a frustrated growl as he stalks to the elevator and slams the button.
“Maybe I don’t want to invite you in.”
“Why, are you a total slob?”
“Of course not.”
“Then show me,” I insist. “It can’t be any worse than living in a house with fifteen guys.”
“Why?”
“Again with that question?” I nudge his shoulder. “I’m a curious person, and now that we’re friends?—”
“Not friends—” Jett replies.
“Now that we’re friends, I want to meet your roommate.”
I’m already jealous of the guy who gets to share his space even though it makes absolutely no sense.
“I don’t have one.”
“You’ve got a private room?” I whistle as we enter the elevator. “Nice.”
“I shared with Iggy my first year, but I like my own space.”
“No kidding. Especially when you want to have sex, right?”
“Ethan—”
“Unless, of course, you’re into other people listening or watching. That can be hot too.”
“Stop talking.”
“Impossible.”
How come I never noticed that the elevator in this building is the size of a closet? Jett’s leg accidentally brushes mine, and when our skin makes contact, it’s so electric that I startle and nearly hit the ceiling.
“Sorry,” Jett whispers.
“For what?”
Please, fuck, touch me again.
“Um, nothing.”
