“I’ll need to prepare you, there are a lot of athletes in our major.”
“Why would I care about that?” I ask.
Scarlett rolls her eyes. “You are so oblivious.”
“Oblivious to what?”
“Uh . . . how many guys want to get in your pants.”
“Whatever.” Our coffees are set off to the side and we each grab one.
“I’m serious. The famous Indie Mayhem is in a lot of guys’ wet dreams.”
“Ew, gross. Don’t say things like that.”
She laughs and links her arm through mine. “It’s true. Do you know how many guys have asked me for your number?”
“One?” I deadpan.
“Oh sweetie, I wish. Little do you know, I’ve been cock-blocking for you for the past two years. They hear I’m roommates and best friends with Indie Mayhem and they soon become buddy-buddy with me, hoping for an in.” How the hell I became this untouchable legend is beyond me. Scarlett’s not normally one to exaggerate, but this is crazy. I’ve slept with guys. I’ve never seen her bat anyone away.
I shrug.
“Thank you . . . I guess?”
“You’re welcome. But now that you’re in the classes yourself, you can do all the batting away of penises. I’m retiring.”
“Does your retirement come with a pension plan?”
“Not that I know of.” She chuckles.
“Then you were batting away penises for the wrong person.”
“Clearly.” She opens the door to the lecture hall and guides me toward one of the smaller classrooms in the right wing. “Just a heads-up: this is where most of your classes will be.”
“Cool.”
She opens the door to our classroom, and it’s much smaller than most of the lecture hall classes I’ve taken. But it still has a small auditorium feel too it. I’m glad to be back, ready for my new school year to begin.
When we walk in, a few heads turn, and then, “Indie Mayhem, no fucking way.”
Barreling toward me is a two-hundred-twenty-pound linebacker, so I brace for impact. Scarlett grabs my coffee just in time.
“Baby girl, when did you start taking these classes?” Rusty Goodall, my life skills partner from freshman year. It was our first class of our first semester in college, and we were paired up. He made that class so much fun and helped me close the gap between high school and college.
“Rusty.” I let him scoop me up into a bear hug. “It’s so good to see you. I just switched this year.”
“Hot damn. I’m going to need to see your schedule, because Papa is excited.” He sets me down and holds me out at shoulder distance. “Damn, you look good.”
“So do you.” I squeeze his bicep. “Did you lose weight and gain a whole bunch of muscles?”
He gives me a goofy grin and strokes his thick beard. “As a matter of fact, I did.”
“Ah, that’s my boy, getting ready for the draft next year, huh?”
“Got to make some money so I can buy my girl a ring.”
“Are you still with Chrissy?”
He nods and pulls out his phone to show me a picture of her. “Five years and going strong. She started an online weight loss consulting business. Girl is supporting me right now, but when I graduate, Papa will bring home the dough.”
“I have no doubt.” I give him another hug. “I’m so happy to see you. It’s been too long.”
“Far too long, because you probably don’t even know that my twin brother transferred here.”
“Really?”
“Yup.” He bops me on the nose and wiggles his brows. “I’ll have to introduce you two.”
Scarlett snorts next to me. I ignore her.
I’m about to answer when the professor walks into the lecture hall and puts his bag on the desk.
“Ooh, time to be scholarly.” Rusty gives me a wink and returns to his seat up front.
Never a front-row person, I sit in the back, just as Scarlett follows Rusty. Damn it.
I waver between going with her and not drawing attention to myself on the first day, so I take a seat and set my bag down.
“Hey there . . . Mayhem,” someone whispers next to me.
I know that voice.
Why do I know that voice?
I turn to my side just in time to catch the heart-melting grin of Lincoln Castle . . . sitting right next to me.
Crap.
“Welcome to Student Teaching. I’m your teacher, Professor Adams, and the people around you will be your student teachers. Please say hello to the person sitting next to you, because they will be your partner through this entire course.”
Double crap.
“Where are you going?” I ask Lincoln as he gets up from his seat and starts to leave.
He looks around the classroom and then back down at me. “Uh, class is over. I’m leaving.”
“Don’t you think we should exchange numbers?”
“Oh damn, Castle. You’re scoring Mayhem’s number? Mind if I borrow it?” Jorge, a football player, says as he walks up to us, along with Rusty and Scarlett. “I’d love to take her out.”
Lincoln’s brow creases as he slips his backpack on. “Already have it.” He nods at me. “See you around.”
“How do you already have—” I don’t finish the rest of that sentence, knowing exactly where he got it from—the meddling moms.
“Want to hit up the student union with us?” Rusty asks. “I convinced Scarlett to pay for my lunch.”
Scarlett shrugs. “He was very convincing in his debate.”
I glance back at Lincoln, who is still heading out of the classroom and strangely, panic sets in.
I’m a good student. Always have been. It’s important to me, especially because when my soccer career is over, I plan on teaching kids myself. At least, that’s the idea for now. This class isn’t a joke to me and for some reason, I get the impression that it might be for Lincoln.
“Uh, I’ll meet you there. Save me a seat.”
Backpack slung over my shoulder, I quickly get up from my seat and chase after Lincoln. I don’t spot him until I walk outside the lecture hall and see him talking with Hartley Dashel and Asher Peppers, Lincoln’s teammate.
Great.
Just what I need, an audience. And not just an audience, but an audience consisting of the star quarterback of Brentwood and Lincoln’s best friend on his team.
Sucking it up, I go to them and feel the blaze of Asher’s and Hartley’s eyes on me when I step into their small circle. I tap Lincoln’s shoulder and he looks at me, then he smiles and reaches around to pull me into his side.
“Guys, do you know Indie?”
Hartley gives Lincoln a strange, questioning look and says, “Yeah, dude.”
Asher nods at me. “Hey Indie.” The shy one of the group, Asher looks down at his feet and plays with a rock. It’s an anomaly that Asher is friends with two of the most outgoing guys on campus, but I guess it works.
I push out of Lincoln’s hold and turn toward him. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
“Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of my besties.”
“Oh Jesus,” Hartley mumbles. “He’s in one of those moods.” Hartley places his hand on Asher’s chest as Lincoln and I stare each other down. “I think we should leave before the sparks flying between these two ignite. Catch you at home, Linc.”