I burrow my cheek further into the warm cushion I’m lying on. Inhaling, I smell the pine scent of men’s cologne and my eyes snap open. Holding still, I move my eyeballs only. Glancing down at the surface I’ve been napping on, I realize it’s Brady’s chest. Oh crap. My eyes scroll up his muscular pecs to his thick neck and finally to his face. I breathe a sigh of relief when I realize he’s asleep.

I move slowly, gently easing his hand from where it rests on my hip, lowering it down to the cushion. Carefully raising my torso, I scoot to the edge of the couch. Sliding on my Converse before rising to my feet, I head toward the door. I’m grabbing my jacket from the wall hook when I hear Brady stirring.

“Harlow,” he softly says my name. Shit. Hurriedly shoving my arms in the sleeves of my coat, I don’t answer.

His head swivels to the side. Catching me in his periphery he twists his torso around. “Where are you going?” His voice is hoarse from his nap and impossibly sexy. He rubs the sleep from his eyes with his fists like a little boy, and my stomach flutters. He’s so much different than I expected him to be.

“I’m going home,” I say, pulling on some blue gloves I had stashed away in one of my jacket pockets.

He smoothly rises to his feet. “I’ll walk you home. You shouldn’t be out at night by yourself in the city.”

I look him over as he walks in my direction. His dark blonde hair is a mess and his sweatshirt is wrinkled from where I was lying on it. He’s never looked more tempting to me. Why does he have to be so attractive? When our eyes meet mine awkwardly bounce away.

Reaching past me, he grabs a black winter vest from a hook and shrugs it on. He pulls on a black knit cap and shoves his keys in one of the front pockets on his jeans before sliding on some sneakers.

Opening the door, he gestures. “After you.”

“Thank you,” I murmur as I walk past and start toward the exit. The sound of the door closing behind me startles me. Being in his company has me on edge. I just need to make it through the next five minutes and then I’ll be safe inside my dorm.

I make it outside and down the front steps before he catches up with me. He slings an arm around my shoulder like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Maybe for him it’s not a big deal, but for me it is. I can barely breathe from his nearness. The scent of his cologne wraps around us and the heat of his arm is both comforting and nerve wracking. I know he’s a lot more affectionate with the opposite sex than I am. I won’t allow myself to make a big deal out of this even though my stomach is fluttering with excitement. It’s perfectly normal for him to sleep with random people so why would an arm around my shoulders mean anything?

We remain silent the entire walk, until I pull my keys out of my pocket.

“When can I see you again?” he asks, a crooked smile on his lips.

Now. My body shouts silently. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I play with the ring of keys, the sound of the metal jingling. I stare at them as if they’re the most fascinating thing I’ve ever seen.

He steps forward, crowding me until my nose is practically buried against his chest. Plucking the keys from me with one hand, he tips my chin up with the other. His blue eyes stare into my gray ones. I exhale with a wavering sigh. I know he’s not going to make this easy on me.

“I want to take you out and you want me to. Whether you’ll admit it or not is another story.” He smirks.

He’s such a cocky bastard. I want to refuse him and give his ego some much needed bruises.

I want to.

I should.

But I can’t.

I really like him; even though I see hazard lights flashing in my mind every time I think of giving him a chance.

“Come on. Haven’t I been a perfect gentleman so far?” His expression is exaggeratedly innocent. I shake my head.

“You’re killing me here. Do I need to get down on my knees and beg you?” He starts to lower down to the sidewalk in front of my dorm.

“No,” I shout, gripping his arm. “You don’t need to.” The last thing I need is someone seeing Brady on his knees in front of me.

“I’ve never dated anyone before.” He shakes his head. “I really like you and I’m hoping you’ll give me a chance to take you out.”

I chew on my bottom lip, nodding my head slightly.

“Does this mean you’ll go out with me tomorrow night?” He pulls his sleeve up and glances at his watch. “Actually, it is tomorrow now,” he comments taking note of the time. “Can I take you out tonight?”

I lick my lips and then press them together drawing out the moment. I’m not strong enough to refuse him, but I can make him sweat it out a little.

He tips his head and raises an eyebrow as if to say - what’s it going to be?

I don’t answer. I hold out my hand. “Keys, please.”

An expression of doubt briefly flickers in his eyes before he gently places them in my palm.

Spinning around I start down the walkway leading to the front door.

“Hey,” he yells.

I stop and turn to face him. “I’m just messing with you. We can go out tonight.”

He stalks toward me. Oh god. He grips both my arms and tugs me into his chest. My breath leaves me as every inch of our bodies is plastered together from groin to the tips of my breasts. One of his hands slides to the middle of my back and continues down until it caresses over the curve of my hip.

“Not so funny now is it, naughty girl,” he growls. Cupping one of my ass cheeks in his big hand, he squeezes it. His mouth swoops down to take mine in a hot, wet kiss that has me thinking of being naked with him as soon as possible. His tongue thrusts against mine. Gripping the back of his neck, I wish I didn’t have gloves on. I want to feel his warm skin under my fingertips.

He pulls away, his breathing labored. “You need to get inside before I throw you over my shoulder and take you back to my place.”

My cheeks flush red at the vision his words conjure up. Stepping back, I nod. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Eight o’clock. I’ll be right here, waiting,” he says, pointing at the spot he’s standing in.

“Okay.” I pivot and practically float to the door.

I have a date with Brady Lincoln, I have a date with Brady Lincoln, I have a date with Brady Lincoln.

I peek over my shoulder at him as I’m about to go inside. “See ya.” I awkwardly wave.

He doesn’t answer me. Instead, flashing his damn irresistible smirk at me. I’m so screwed.

* * *

Watching the clock tick down until it’s eight o’clock, has kept me occupied for the past thirty minutes. I don’t want to appear too eager, but I am. Going out with him is all I’ve thought about since he walked me home last night. I’ve replayed our kiss about a thousand times and each time it seemed even hotter.

Will he kiss me again tonight? I hope so.

I inhale a deep breath to compose myself as I push open the door to my building. There’s a moment where the nervous flutters in my stomach take over.

Will he be there waiting?

What if he changed his mind and he doesn’t show?

Relief washes over me. All the worry is for nothing. He’s standing in the exact spot he said he’d be. His hands are in his jeans pockets, broad shoulders rolled forward in the gray B.U. hoodie he wears so well. We had an unseasonably warm day for November and it’s carried over into tonight.

Happiness overtakes me and bursts out of me with a huge smile. I couldn’t contain if I tried.

He moves forward and I do the same, meeting him halfway.

“Hi.” He smiles and pulls me in for a hug.

“Hi,” I say, my greeting muffled against his sweatshirt. He kisses me on the top of my head. It reminds me of my dad. He’s the only who’s ever done this. I blink back the sting of tears. Now’s not the time to turn into an emotional mess. I’m sure for him it was just a reflex and not some declaration of his feelings for me. I pride myself on being practical and logical. I refuse to turn into one of those girls who thinks if a guy says hello to her or holds the door it means a lifetime commitment.

Pulling away, he holds me at arm's length. Sweeping his eyes over me, he slowly studies me from the tip of my head down to my converse covered feet. I flush from his stare.

“You look beautiful,” he tells me. I appreciate the compliment, but I know I’m not dressed to impress tonight. I’m wearing my most comfortable jeans and my favorite black sweater.

“Thanks, you look pretty good yourself, but you don’t need me to tell you.”

“I like hearing you compliment me. I think this might be the first time you have.”

Rolling my eyes, I reply, “I don’t need to feed your ego, it’s hefty enough already. In fact, that sucker could use a diet.”

He chuckles. “I’ve a feeling you’ll be the one to lighten the load so to speak.” He holds his hand out for me. “Come on. Let’s get some dinner. I’m starving.”

Placing my hand in his, I walk beside him. The soles on my shoes scuffing over the jagged cracks in the concrete as we head down the sidewalk.

“How do you feel about pizza? Do you love it or just like it?”

My nose scrunches at his words. “Doesn’t everyone love pizza?” I question, glancing up at him - glancing way up at him. He’s so tall. He has to be at least six foot three.

“Actually, Zeke doesn’t like pizza. I almost considered finding a new roommate freshman year because of that anomaly. But, then I realized he was the perfect person to room with because it meant I didn’t have to share my pizza. And I can eat a lot.”

I giggle and he flashes me a quick grin. He taps his head with his index finger. “Sometimes you need to look at the bigger picture.” He glances down at me. “Take us for instance,” he pauses. “I know going out with me didn’t seem like such a great idea at first, but now you must see the value.”

My eyes flick up to him, one eyebrow raised skeptically. “I do?” I question.

“Sure, you do. You already know I’ll keep you warm when I walk you home. I’ll never push you to do something you don’t want to. I love pizza and so do you. I can get you tickets to any football game you want.” I open my mouth to reply and he shakes his head. “Don’t even go there. I saw you at the game miss I don’t like football or football players.” He smirks and then his expression changes. It becomes serious and heated, his blue eyes burning into mine. “Our chemistry is off the charts. The kisses we’ve shared have been fucking phenomenal. I’m getting hard just thinking about them.”

“Brady,” I shout, my cheeks hot with an embarrassed flush.

“What?” he questions. “I’m just stating the facts. I prefer to be direct.” He stops walking and tugs my hand. I crash into him and a high-pitched squeak leaves me.

Cupping my face, his palms are warm against my cheeks. He stares intently in my eyes. “I plan to have you, any way I can. If that means taking you out for three months straight before I get to kiss you again, then that’s exactly what I’ll do. But I’m hoping you won’t make me wait too long.”

Our eyes remain locked in a tension filled stare off. I couldn’t look away, if I tried.

I want to kiss him. Should I? Chewing on my lip, I’m lost in indecision. I’m not sure what to do or say. I’ve never been in a situation like this before. And before I can decide he interrupts.

“You ready for that pizza now?”