The last place I ever want to be with college basketball God, Jake LaShae.
I am losing my mind trying to figure out what this gorgeous and confident man wants from me. I need to break through his walls. What is it about me that makes him not go there? What am I lacking?
When a mind-blowing betrayal knocks the wind out of me, and I think I can't feel any lower...Brody stumbles into my path—barefoot no less, and sexy as hell. His direct and mouth-watering swagger is a breath of fresh air. The feelings this man gives me are like nothing I've ever experienced.
But Brody has a past.
A past that makes it nearly impossible for him to trust me and let us become us in whatever capacity that may be.
Just when Brody and I truly connect, just when I think that finding my soul-mate in college isn't a total joke, Jake comes back into my life…and messes things up…possibly for good.
“Where’d you get this scar?” His brow furrows as he looks at the white bumpy area of skin.
The tickling sensation of his finger outlining my scar sends instant shivers straight to my groin. I clear my throat. “I, um,” I choke out. Get your shit together, Finley. “I wish I had a cool story to tell you, but honestly, I was just a klutz. I was driving a moped on Leslie’s farm and wiped out on the gravel. It was nasty. I was like a freshman in high school I think. Just another part of my awesome and talented coordination!”
His laughter rumbles in his chest. He then spreads all five fingers across my knee and strokes it affectionately. Jesus. I never knew a kneecap could be an erotic zone on my body, but I’ll be damned. If it’s Jake LaShae’s large, warm hands doing the touching, it’s erotic as hell.
“That tickles,” I laugh, delicately shoving his shoulder. I hate how girlie I sound right now.
He captures my hand on his shoulder and holds it there, stroking his thumb over the back of my hand. I frown and look into his deep brown eyes. His expression morphs from friendly to lustful—needy. I exhale a shaky breath.
“Jake,” I whisper, as he strokes his hand down my wrist, to my elbow and then slowly up to my shoulder. When his palm meets my bare shoulder and pauses, I lean into it and close my eyes, relishing in his touch. He rubs the pad of his thumb over my collarbone, and my lips part in response.
The need I feel in my core for Jake to kiss me is at an all time high. I feel like I’m free-falling off a cliff right now, waiting for this incredibly tumultuous feeling inside me to go away. I lean forward slightly, expecting to find his lips, but instead I feel the bed shift and his hand is suddenly gone. I flutter my eyes open and see him quickly tossing his stuff back into his backpack.
“What are you doing?” I ask, trying to register the expression on his face, but his head is dropped too low for me to get a good look.
“I…uhh, have to go,” he clips out, awkwardly.
“What? We just started…” I reply, not sure what I’m referring to. Our homework or our—whatever the hell that just was.
“No, I mean, yeah,” he stutters, and glances out the window, avoiding eye contact. “I just forgot I was supposed to be at open gym to shoot free-throws with Coach. I gotta run. I’m already super late.”
“What about the assignment?” I ask, feeling my anxiety rise.
“I’ll do some, you do some, and we can put them together in the morning before class. Just email yours to me, I’ll do it,” he finishes abruptly, and turns to exit. He comes back and drops a chaste kiss on the top of my head, completely avoiding eye contact.
“Jake!” I say, but he doesn’t respond. He doesn’t even look back.
I get up quickly and rush to the window and watch him walk swiftly to his apartment. I continue watching and see him enter his bedroom and immediately close his curtains. What the fuck was that all about?