Pretending Hearts Page 3

  “I bet you can be,” I said, nodding my head. “Georgie did tell me you’re a political science major.”

  He leaned back and studied me closely. “Did you choose a major yet?”

  “No. I’m undecided.”

  “Hopefully, not about me,” he tossed back. I wanted to roll my eyes, but I quelled the urge. I didn’t want my cynicism to scare him off. There was a high likelihood at least a dozen girls at the party would be willing to trade places with me and hijack Wyatt Johnston’s attention. For the entirety of our conversation, I sensed the envious stares tossed my way.

  As we made more small talk, I felt unsure about Wyatt. Who was I kidding? I knew exactly where I wanted to take things with him. The guy practically oozed sex appeal and the closer he moved into my space, the more I felt the effect on my panties.

  But, no matter what my body wanted, I planned to let my brain take control. Sleeping with assholes had become part of my repertoire and I needed to fight against my instincts.

  Wyatt asked where I was from and I fidgeted as I told him I came from Clark. I didn’t want to lie about my background, but I also didn’t want Wyatt to make the connection I came from the same town as the school’s currently most famous alumni. Cook University was a Division II school and Blake being drafted to the NFL was a huge deal. Cook featured Blake in their latest promo materials in hopes of attracting more exceptional athletes to the college.

  Blake being my brother had turned into a secret I planned to hold onto. I wanted to be accepted for who I was and not because I was Blake Preston’s sister. After being thrust into the limelight, I liked the normalcy of being another anonymous freshman.

  Before he could dwell on my answer, I asked him where he was from. He hailed from New York and his father held a seat on the state senate. Georgie’s parents were partners in the law firm who represented Wyatt’s father and the two families had been friends for over ten years. As Wyatt talked about Georgie, I got the same vibe that nothing romantic ever developed between the two of them. Although I found Wyatt attractive, I didn’t want to screw over my new roommate if they had history.

  Wyatt noticed my empty cup and offered to get us both a refill. While watching him walk away, I pressed my back into the wall. I took a few steadying breaths and tried to regain my senses. The day had been long and weird—but weird in a good way. After the rough start with my mom, I had expected the heavy feeling in my gut to follow me to campus. Georgie had made me forget all about my mom refusing to come to the college along with the awkwardness earlier with my dad. I’d never been good at making girlfriends and I was thrilled how easily I connected with Georgie. Meeting a sexy guy was the cherry on top of an amazing day.

  My purse was resting against my thigh and I felt my phone vibrate through the fabric. I pulled my phone free and checked the call screen. Following a quick sweep of the hallway, I noticed an empty bathroom three doors down from where I was standing. Hurrying over, I shut and locked the door behind me before pressing the answer button on my cell. “Hello,” I said, hoping the heavy wooden door blocked out the sounds of the party.

  “Hey Miss College.” I smiled and I felt my entire body relax. I resisted needing my brother the way I did, but he’d been the only person who related to how I felt growing up with our parents. Whenever I needed him, he came through. Although our relationship had been strained over the past year, he’d always be my rock.

  “I thought you forgot,” I said, trying to keep my voice light. I checked the time on my cell phone. “It’s after midnight.”

  “I knew you wouldn’t be asleep,” he replied quickly. “I would’ve called you earlier, but I had this interview thing that took all day.”

  Blake seemed embarrassed by his talent and celebrity. His "interview thing" was a nationally televised event probably watched by millions. He worked hard for his position on the Baltimore Warriors, but didn’t seem to take advantage of the perks that went along with being part of the team. I loved my brother, but Blake would probably be elected most boring NFL player if put to a vote. Of course, my reasons for wanting him to get a little wild were entirely selfish.

  “Yes, Mom was glued to the whole thing. Sorry I missed it. How did it go?” I asked. Before he answered, I added, “You didn’t do that weird thing where you blink like three consecutive times before you answer a question?”

  “My publicist said I should pause for a few seconds before I answer any questions,” he said and I could hear his offended tone.

  “Your publicist?” I snorted. “You already sound like a sell-out.”

  “Ha-ha,” he replied drily. “Are you going to keep up with the jokes or tell me how the hell college is going?”

  “It’s good. The roommate seems fairly normal although I suspect she shits hundred dollar bills,” I said. I sensed Blake’s silent disapproval over the phone. I noticed my crassness reached peak levels when talking to my brother. Blake tended to treat me like a little kid and my behavior was intended to remind him I grew up a long time ago.

  “So proud that my little sister is making friends.” Blake’s voice was mocking.

  “Yes, I am,” I said firmly. At my pause, a few shouts broke through the silence of the bathroom.

  “Your dorm sounds crazy. I guess they’re not enforcing the quiet hours yet.” I nodded although Blake couldn’t see me. The dorms had quiet hours between eleven at night and six in the morning. No need to tell my brother I was already out at a frat party.

  I elected for a subject change. “So who are you playing this week?”

  “We leave for San Diego tomorrow.”

  “That’s great. I always wanted to visit California. Go window-shopping on Rodeo Drive and get a map to the stars’ homes. I always thought the cheesy tourist traps sounded like a ball,” I enthused.

  “Next time, you can come along and act as my buffer. The team is going to some black-tie event in Hollywood on Friday and I can’t get out of it,” he complained.

  I let an annoyed breath escape my lips. Only my brother would complain about rubbing elbows with the rich and famous. “Make sure you take a lot of selfies with all the hot actresses with big boobs and send them to me. We could play a game of whose breasts are real or not?”

  “I’m pretty sure Autumn would probably kill me if I did that, so I’m going to pass on that one.” I ground my teeth together at the mention of Autumn’s name. “By the way, have you seen her? She’s living in Greene Hall, a few buildings over from your dorm.”

  “Nope, I haven’t run into her,” I said blandly. Someone knocked on the bathroom door. I turned on the sink faucet and allowed the water to run.

  “Well, you should call her. Meet her for lunch or something next week,” he suggested. Sometimes I wondered if my brother was either a hopeless optimist or a self-involved prick.

  ‘Sure thing, Blake. I’ll see when I can pencil her in,” I said with bite.

  His sigh said the familiar words I had heard before. He was tired of my refusal to fully accept Autumn as part of his life. But he must’ve taken one too many knocks to the head on the field if he thought we’d be bonding while he was away. “Listen, I’m not going to fight with you,” he said, his voice tired. “But think about calling Autumn. This is her third year at Cook and she could show you around.”

  “Okay,” I said. Another knock sounded at the door, encouraging me to wrap up the conversation and get back to Wyatt. “I actually have to go, Blake. But… I’m really glad you called.”

  “Of course I was going to call. I wanted to make sure you didn’t end up with some freak roommate who plans to deal drugs out of your dorm room or raise mice to sell as snake feed to pet stores.” Blake paused before adding, “Both of these examples come from my own freshman dorm experience.”

  “No, Georgie seems nice. Everything is going to be great.” Maybe I’d let some of his optimism rub off on me for once.

  “Well, I’m glad to hear. But remember to call me if you need anything.”

  �
�I will,” I promise. “Bye Blake.”

  “Bye Del.”

  I hung up and turned off the water. When I exited the bathroom, several people were waiting in a line with put-out expressions on their faces. I shrugged before clutching my purse tightly to my side. I strode past them and frowned when I saw no sign of Wyatt. My phone rang in my hand and I wondered if Blake forgot to tell me something. I didn’t recognize the phone number displayed, but decided to answer. “Hello.”

  “Hey.” I heard the masculine reply over the phone as well as around the corner of the hallway. I stopped in my tracks as Wyatt came into view and grinned at me. I saw his tongue poke out between his teeth and I began having very dirty thoughts of what he could do to my body with that tongue. He held up a cell phone. “I got your number from Georgia when I couldn’t find you.”

  I nodded and brought the cell phone away from my ear down to rest against my chin. “Well, you’ve found me.”

  “And now you have my number.”

  “I do,” I said softly.

  “Will you use it? Call me and I can take you out on a date?”

  My eyebrows lifted in surprise. “A date?”

  He walked to where I was standing and didn’t stop until a hairbreadth stood between our bodies. His heated gaze warmed me everywhere and I knew I’d use his number. If a few short minutes alone with him had me panting for more, I wondered what would happen after an hours-long date.

  “Yes, a date,” he said huskily. “I’ll pick you up. Take you out for food that doesn’t come out of a can. And then take you home and hope for a goodnight kiss.”

  I lifted up on my toes and leaned forward. My breasts were crushed against his chest and I saw Wyatt swallow roughly as I pushed my hips against his. I ran my fingers down his smooth cheek and then coasted my forefinger across his soft lips. I positioned my mouth until our lips were hovering mere centimeters away. In a seductive whisper, I said, “Here’s to hoping.”

  Chapter Four

  Wyatt called the following night. I had been eager to hear from him, but I didn’t want to read too much into things. We’d both been drinking and I thought it was possible the lust I’d been sensing between us could be contributed to the keg beer.

  He asked me out for Friday night and I agreed. I had hesitated for a split second, but pushed aside my reservations. I didn’t expect Wyatt to fall madly in love with me. I was fresh campus meat and he was going to pursue me with the intent of bedding me as quickly as possible.

  As the days passed and our date neared, I questioned my wants. Did I want a relationship? Not particularly. But I had to admit Wyatt met my mother’s requirements for perfect future husband material. He was good looking, but above all else, he was incredibly wealthy. Even if he lived on family money alone, I was confident he’d never live paycheck by paycheck. I had rarely heard of sons of senators living like paupers.

  I assumed I exuded some sort of relationship repellant keeping me single. My family’s love lives had played a part in making me jaded about men, but I wondered if there was something in my DNA contributing to my worldview. Years ago, my mom had purchased Bridal Barbie for me as a birthday present. The next day, Bridal Barbie had her hair cut off and was sporting a purple Mohawk courtesy of a magic marker.

  Maybe I was incapable of an emotional attachment, but I’d been physically attracted to Wyatt instantaneously. He was handsome in a way that made my pulse race each time I brought his face up in my mind. I’d been flattered by the way he looked at me. His eyes were dark pools I could picture getting lost in and never resurfacing again.

  Wyatt was likely a diversion I didn’t need during my first week of classes. With a concentrated effort, I pushed thoughts of him from my mind as I attended my courses. I was taking all general education classes since I hadn’t picked a major yet. I covered all the bases by taking women’s history, astronomy, philosophy, biology and psychology. Unfortunately, Cook didn’t offer any photography courses. Although I loved taking pictures, my parents were very forthcoming about how they felt about my photography. They thought I had a cute hobby, but didn’t have faith I could make a career from it.

  I hadn’t anticipated the amount of work professors piled on. I hadn’t coasted in high school, but scheduling in study hall during each year guaranteed I’d have little homework. After seeing the syllabus for each of my courses, I banged my head against my desk several times and considered dropping one of the classes.

  In the end, I decided to boot and rally. My brother was footing the bill for college and I didn’t want to drag out things for his sake. I’ve heard of plenty of students earning their bachelor’s degrees in the same amount of time as doctorate programs. Blake would give me as much time and money as I needed to finish college. But my brother’s generosity was a character flaw. I didn’t want to be another person who took advantage of him.

  Cook’s campus wasn’t hard to navigate and after a week I knew my way around with ease. There was a small bar and restaurant in the student center and Wyatt asked me to meet him there. I liked how he was keeping the date casual and not taking me out to a restaurant that outclassed anywhere I’d ever been before.

  I was ten minutes late to The Cellar. My tardiness was contrived and I couldn’t help but feel disappointed when I realized Wyatt wasn’t at the bar yet. I wished I could order a drink to steady my nerves, but The Cellar was no joke about checking IDs.

  A band was scheduled to play and they were still setting up. Since a handful of tables were open, I decided to snag one. Sitting down, a waitress bopped over and I ordered a soda. Once she left, I tapped my fingers anxiously against the tabletop. I almost wished I had persuaded Georgie to bail on her plans. Since she and Wyatt were friends, I'd felt obligated to ask if she’d join the two of us. I wasn’t sure how Wyatt would feel about the invitation, but not extending the offer felt rude. Georgie was going to a party with Fallon and had passed up my invitation.

  I played with my straw as I thought about my new roommate. Maybe I was premature to assume anything, but I certainly felt like we were becoming friends. I was deprived when it came to long-lasting friendships. No parents wanted their precious daughter to hang out with the spawn of Thomas Bridges.

  Georgie was a gossip and a little vain, but she was also funny and never seemed to struggle to fit in socially like I did. In a way, I was a novelty to her. I was from an inconspicuously normal middle-class family with no Hollywood contacts tucked away in my cell phone. She was amazed I wasn’t shitting myself with envy over the fact her family had an original Banksy hanging in their foyer. My fear was Georgie would discover I was the sister of a millionaire NFL player and she wouldn’t need me anymore. She wanted to be the alpha in our friendship with me as her trusty sidekick. I accepted the arrangement because I was relieved to finally have a friend.

  I sucked down the last of my soda and checked my phone for the tenth time. Wyatt was twenty minutes late. I was on the verge of sending him a colorful text when I noticed him gliding through the doorway. I clamped down on my annoyance when I realized how unaffected he seemed by his lateness.

  Wyatt noticed me and grinned broadly in my direction. I wanted to play it cool, but my return smile was involuntary. Men like Wyatt could get away with anything. I suddenly understood the meaning behind the phrase dangerous good looks.

  Wyatt was physically perfect: tall and toned, full lips curved naturally in a dangerous smile, straight black hair neatly trimmed, brooding dark eyes. He carried himself with confidence. I liked his ease with himself, but I would’ve appreciated a little sheepishness for making me wait.

  He slid into the seat across from me and picked up the menu. The smile stayed fixed on his face as he regarded me. “Did you order yet? I’m starved.” My excitement over seeing him was quelled by the relaxed way he spoke.

  “No, I was waiting for you to get here,” I answered shortly. He didn’t reply and I realized I wasn’t getting an apology. Suddenly, I was glad I hadn’t dressed up for the date. I had worn
a pair of skinny jeans and a black tank top. I was a collector of costume jewelry and had accessorized with a fringe chain necklace and matching earrings.

  A few minutes later, Wyatt set aside his menu and looked over at me. I hoped my irritation was clear in my expression. Before I could make a snide comment, the waitress came by to take our order. Since my belly was flip-flopping from the nervous tension, I decided to order French fries in hopes the carbs would help settle my stomach.

  I turned my attention to the stage as the band warmed up. I felt Wyatt’s eyes on me, but I didn’t turn back to face him. He would give me a megawatt smile again and I’d melt and forget all about his rudeness.

  “How was your first week?” he asked.

  “I was busy, but I liked my classes. You?” I said to his shoulder.

  “Sucked hard. I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he said, his voice low and sexy.

  Against my better judgment, I made eye contact with him once again. If we were keeping a score, I would’ve lost a point. Because I was positive the irritation in my expression was replaced by pure desire. His eyes roved over my body—undressing me on the spot. His hidden smile seemed to suggest all of the dirty things he was imagining us doing together.

  I made the executive decision to subdue my annoyance. I reasoned he may have mixed up the times and not realized we were supposed to meet half an hour earlier. I couldn’t deny the chemistry we had and I didn’t want to throw out the possibility of us becoming more than friends.

  “Well, I hope I didn’t distract you from your game last night. Did you win?” I asked coyly.

  “We did win,” he said and paused as the waitress set down a draft beer in front of him. He took a sip before adding, “Do you play any sports?”