Carter is so much more complicated than I realised before. He’s not your typical football jock. He’s sweet, yet domineering. He plays football with the other preppy arseholes around here, but he’s not one of them. How did I not see how different he was from them before?
I guess, I didn’t care. But I do now. A lot more than I should for having had his attention on me for such a short time. All of a sudden, he’s all I can think about. I want to know more about him. Which explains why I’m staring at my laptop screen feeling more than a little queasy at the images before me.
Maybe googling MMA was not such a great idea after all. My stomach rolls as I watch a clip of two guys seemingly trying to rip each other to shreds with their bare hands. There’s blood, and oh god, he just dislocated that guy’s shoulder, I flinch and look away before I hurl.
I can feel the heat of his gaze on me so I scan my surroundings, looking for him. I spot him leaning against a tree about twenty or so meters from me, one foot propped back against the trunk, his hands in his pockets, his eyes on me.
His friends talking animatedly around him don’t distract him, his focus is zeroed in on my face. I feel a blush begin to creep up my neck, and I dip my head down to hide behind my laptop. Does he know what I’m looking at? He can’t, not from all the way over there.
Knowing that his friends are going to realise that he isn’t paying them any attention pretty damn soon, makes me shift uncomfortably. I stretch my legs clad in unicorn leggings out in front of me and cross my ankles. The freshly cut grass prickles me a little through my leggings, making me itch. Or is it his intense gaze locked on my every move that’s making me itchy? I don’t know, but I decide that I’m done sitting on the grass either way.
Closing, then sliding my laptop back into my satchel, I get to my feet then dust the small grass clippings off my legs and giving them a good scratch too. I can’t understand why I’m having this reaction to him. It’s not like I’ve never had the attention of a hot guy before.
Turning my back to him does nothing to ease the tension that engulfed my body the moment I felt his eyes on me. Damn it.
Running my hands over my butt, I dust off the bits of grass sticking to my baggy white T with the words NO FILTER written in bold black ink across the front, then sling my satchel over my shoulder and make my way back to the building housing my next class.
I’m not sure what’s worse, having Carter stare at me from a distance, or having him up in my personal space. They seem to have the same potent effect on my body and mental state. I don’t feel relief from the weight of his stare until I enter the building and I’m shielded from his view.
Making a quick stop in the girl’s room, I walk in on two chicks gossiping about Carter. Great, he’s everywhere. I roll my eyes as I push into one of the stalls and hang my satchel on the hook behind the door, locking it behind me.
“Carter’s been ignoring my calls,” Bimbo One whines.
“Maybe he’s been getting serviced somewhere else?” Bimbo Two chuckles.
Bimbo One, who I’ve decide to refer to as B1, gasps dramatically, “You think?”
At least my powers of invisibility are still intact around the airheads, they continue with their conversation as if I’m not even here.
B2 clucks her tongue, “He’s got a big appetite, you two were never a couple. You should know better than to expect exclusive rights to a guy like Carter.”
I finish my business, tug up my leggings, then flush the toilet, hoping that will silence their little chat. But no such luck. They’re still babbling when I swing the door of my stall open with so much force that it bangs against the wall, as I walk through it and step up to the sink beside them to wash my hands.
B1 is pouting at her reflexion in the mirror as she reapplies her pink lip gloss, “I know, but I told him I wanted to be. I haven’t been with anyone else since we started hooking up.”
B2 smirks, “And what did he say to that?”
A pathetic whine comes from B1 and I cringe as I snatch some paper towels from the dispenser, drying my hands as quickly as possible. Must get out of here. Unfortunately, B1’s voice carries behind me as I flee, “He said he doesn’t do monogamy.”
I’m not watching where I’m going as I make my escape and run straight into Carter’s right hand man, Mase. I look up into his face and he’s grinning down at me, his hands snake around my waist and I freeze up. What the hell is he doing?
“How you doin,’ sweet cheeks?” Mase drawls, as his hands slide down and give my butt a squeeze.
My eyes widen, “Have you lost your mind?” I ask, eyeing his offending hands over my shoulder then flashing my pissed off glare back to him.
Before he can answer, I feel myself being pulled from Mase’s embrace and into another big, firm, warm body. But this one smells like peppermint. Carter. I relax back into him and tilt my head see his face. He’s shooting daggers at his best friend, “What the fuck man?” Carter seethes.
Mase grins, “What?”
Carter tenses behind me, “You’re fucking with me, right? For your sake, you better be.”
Mase bursts out laughing, does he have a death wish?
“Dude you should see your face right now. Of course, I’m screwing with you, as if I’d try feeling up your girl when you’re not around to see it. Where’s the fun in that?” he snorts and rolls his eyes.
I glare at him, “Arsehole,” I mumble just as I hear an outraged screech behind me. Poking my head around Carter’s wide frame, I see B1 and B2 have exited the bathroom and are now staring at Carter’s back with murderous intent. Oh shit.
“Uh, Carter, your fan club would like a meeting with you,” I say, as I step out of his arms and back away as the bitches begin to round Carter. “I’ll see you later,” I murmur, as I increase my pace then spin on my black ballet flats and get the hell out of there.
They, Carter’s groupies, were one thing I didn’t think about that I really should have when Carter bought up this whole arrangement. Should I keep calling it that, an arrangement? Because it feels more like the beginning of a relationship. And Mase obviously knows that Carter has staked some kind of a claim on me, he groped my butt and referred to me as Carter’s girl.
I snicker as I round the corner and glance over my shoulder seeing Carter cocking a brow at the two girls currently telling him off. He doesn’t look happy, and that makes me happy for some weird reason. His clear discomfort is quite amusing, actually.