Shut Out (3 page)

“Go ahead and wash your hands.” I move closer and she edges back, her eyelashes fluttering. “Oh hey, you don't need to be afraid of me.” I lower my voice. “I think that girl followed me up here.”

Rapunzel scowls. “Really? Because you're that irresistible?”

I give a cheeky grin. “Yeah.”

“Ugh.” She cranks the water on and squirts some hand soap from a container, then rubs her hands together. “That's some ego you have there.”

“Is that what you were looking at earlier?” I fold my arms across my chest and lean against the wall. “My ego?”

Her eyes fly open wide. “Wow. It
is
huge.”

“Yeah, that's what she said.”

For a moment, she goes still, then her head bends and her hair falls over her face…but not before I see her lips twitch.

“Come on, Rapunzel, that was funny.”

She lifts her head and, yeah, her lips are curved into a smile and her eyes are dancing. Her eyes are brown, a light golden brown. “Rapunzel?”

“Sorry, I don't know your name. But I noticed your hair earlier. It's gorgeous.”

“Um, thank you.” She hesitates. “I'm Skylar.”

“Jacob.” I extend my hand. “I'll shake your hand now that you've washed up.”

She rolls her eyes, still smiling, hangs the towel back on the hook beside the sink and takes my hand. Hers is small and soft, but her grip is firm. I like that.

We make eye contact again and my skin heats. “I like the pink.” I release her hand and gesture at the under layers of her hair.

She runs her fingers through it. “Thanks. It's new for me.”

“Can you see if Tiffany's still out there?” I jerk my chin at the door.

Her eyebrows pull together. “Are you avoiding her?”

One corner of my mouth lifts. “She was coming on pretty strong.”

“Ah.” Her top teeth drag over her bottom lip briefly. “It looked like a lot of girls down there were.”

I smile. “You noticed that, huh?”

Color floods into her cheeks and, damn, it makes her even prettier. “How could I not? It was embarrassing for womankind.”

I laugh. “Oh, come on.”

“Those girls who stalk the hockey team, the football team, the basketball team…” Skylar shakes her head. “They're shameless.”

“Sometimes, yep.”

“Aaaargh. You're a pig.”

“I'm a guy. I like girls.” I shrug. “Also, luckily, I didn't really have to take a leak that bad or I'd be in pain by now.”

She shakes her head, but her lips twitch again. “You
are
avoiding her.”

“So that means I'm not a
total
pig, then.”

When I meet her eyes, it's like there's a crackling energy snapping between us. Damn. I just jumped out of a frying pan and into a goddamn fire. I know she feels it too, because she stares back at me for long seconds before she reaches for the doorknob. She peers out into the hall through the crack of the barely open door, then glances at me over her shoulder. “There are three girls out there now.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Come on, dude. They're not
all
after you.”

I lay my hand on my heart. “Ouch.”

Skylar laughs, a low, warm laugh that makes my groin tighten. “You're impossible.”

“Will you guard the door for me?”

“They're probably wondering what the hell we're doing in here.”

“They're probably jealous of you.”

“Oh my God!” She glares at me but when she sees my smile, she starts laughing. “Fine. I'll guard the door for you.”

“Thanks, babe.”

I step outside the bathroom and close the door behind me. I lean against it and smile at the girls standing there. Tiffany, Amy, and another girl I recognize but don't know her name. “Hey. Jacob's just finishing up. Be warned—the lock on the door doesn't work.” I wrinkle my nose.

The waves of hostility coming off them are palpable despite their phony smiles.

Holy shit. He wasn't kidding. These chicks are seriously annoyed I was in that bathroom alone with him. Tiffany gives me an icy glare. She's never even noticed me before. She's definitely one of the women who goes to all the games and has probably slept with most of the players on the team. I've never seen Jacob around before—because God, I'd definitely remember that—so I assume he's new this year. For a freshman, he seems pretty cocky and confident.

He's good-looking, there's no doubt about that. His face has a sculpted bone structure with high cheekbones and a strong jaw with a hint of a cleft in it. His eyes are dark and intelligent, his nose a strong wedge, and his mouth…wow. The corners of his mouth seem to be perpetually deepened as if he's always amused. It's stunningly attractive. There's something about him…If my roommate Natalie were here, she'd probably say he has a strong aura. It's like a magnetic force field that surrounds him, throwing off a glow that makes everyone turn and look at him, not just girls, but guys too.

His egotistical, bragging comments should be repulsive, but when I looked into his eyes and saw the twinkle there, the corners of his mouth lifting in that sexy way, I…melted. He clearly doesn't take himself seriously, and the glint in his eyes and almost self-deprecating smile make me suspect his bravado is more an act than real.

I hear water running and take a step forward just as the door opens behind me. Jacob emerges and, shockingly, slings an arm around my neck. “Hey. Let's find another drink, Rapunzel.”

The glares I'm getting from the girls in the hallway could freeze lava. I don't really care; none of these girls are friends of mine. It's kind of funny, actually, because I'm no threat to them. I don't think I've ever been the recipient of envy like they are clearly feeling. It's kind of a little boost for my own ego, which is about one five-hundredth the size of Jacob's.

We pass the girls and start down the stairs. Halfway down I can't stop the chuckle that rises to my lips.

“Something funny?”

I turn to glance at him over my shoulder, ready to say something about how hilarious it is that the girls upstairs would actually think I'm some kind of rival, but my foot misses the next step and I pitch forward. My stomach leaps and my blood flashes hot as I give a squawk, anticipating the pain I'm about to feel. But Jacob reaches out and grabs me, stopping my headfirst tumble. “Hey there.”

Pulled up against him, my back to his front, his arms around me, my heart thudding, I give an embarrassed laugh. But I can smell his aftershave—or cologne, I guess, since he's got a nice layer of stubble—and it's so freakin' sexy I inhale a big breath of it, then let it out. “Thanks,” I say breathlessly. “Thought I was a goner there.”

“You okay?”

“Oh yeah. Just red-faced.”

“Let me see.” He steadies me and turns me on the stairs, studying my face with intent eyes. “Yep. You're cute when you blush.”

Yeah, that doesn't help. My cheeks grow hotter. Also other parts of me get hot. Melting hot.

This is really…weird.

I haven't felt this way for a while. It feels good but scary.

I don't know why this beautiful guy is paying attention to me, flirting with me. I mean, I'm not a total troll. I've gone out with some guys at Bayard, and I had a high school boyfriend. But this guy is way out of my league.

For some reason, this relaxes me. Nothing's ever going to come of it, so I might as well have fun. A sexy athlete telling me my hair is gorgeous and I'm cute when I blush? I laugh out loud, despite the lust curling deep inside me.

“That's funny?” He lifts an eyebrow.

“No. Never mind. Come on. I need a drink.”

I start back down, this time paying attention to where my feet land.

Jacob follows me into the kitchen and I'm surprised when he hands me a hard lemonade from a big cooler but takes a Coke for himself.

“Designated driver.” He lifts one shoulder. “Someone has to do it.”

“That's very responsible of you.”

He makes a face. “That's me. Mr. Responsible.”

He's obviously being sarcastic, but I don't know him well enough to understand why. I'm curious, though. I lift the bottle to my lips and take a gulp of the cold, fizzy beverage. I don't usually drink fizzy drinks because they hurt my nose, but I need this. “You don't strike me as Mr. Responsible.”

“No? How do I strike you?”

I study him. “Playboy. Lots of fun, but unreliable. Your whole life is one big party.”

He blinks at me, his beautiful mouth going slack. “Whoa.” A faint crease appears between his eyebrows. Then it smoothes and he smiles again, but it's a little forced. “You nailed it, babe.” He gulps his Coke. “But my hockey coaches would disagree on the ‘unreliable' part. I was captain of my team back in Canada, and every guy on the team knew he could count on me. I show up and give it everything I've got, every practice, every game.”

The intensity in his voice and the blaze in his eyes when he says this are so different from his earlier laid-back attitude and swagger. I can't look away from his face, mesmerized. Intrigued. And totally convinced he's telling the truth.

“Team captain, huh?” I hide the fact that I'm impressed. “Captain Fun, no doubt.”

He narrows his eyes at me. “Okay, I'll admit I like to have fun. But I'm very serious about hockey.”

I pat his chest with my fingertips. Eeep. That might have been a mistake because he is
built
. But I keep my smile in place. “I believe you.”

He shakes his head. “Jesus. You're fucking with me.”

I laugh. “Maybe a little. You kinda deserve it, Captain Ego.”

He rolls his eyes.

Somehow we have isolated ourselves in a back corner of the kitchen, near a door to a main-floor laundry room. The party is rocking around us, his hockey friends having moved on to a rowdy game of beer pong in the dining room. I'm about five-seven, and Jacob towers above me, obviously well over six feet tall, and he bends his head and leans into me in a way that makes me feel…protected. Not intimidated, which is more how I've felt lately anytime I've been around guys. His body is amazing—wide shoulders, muscled chest, and flat abs in a blue-and-beige plaid shirt loose over nicely distressed jeans. His attention is all focused on me, and even though I've had less than two drinks, I feel like I'm drunk. Like the carbonation from the drink is fizzing through my veins.

“So, Rapunzel, what's your story? Are you a freshman?”

“Sophomore. You?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs. “Sophomore. But I don't get the whole naming the years thing. We don't do that in Canada.”

I laugh. “It depends on how many semester hours you have.”

“Yeah. I had enough from some courses I took back in Saskatoon that they consider me a sophomore.”

“How old are you?”

“I'll be twenty in November. You?”

Huh. “Nineteen. I'll turn twenty in May.”

“What's your major?”

“Um. I think…biology.”

“You don't sound too sure.”

I nibble my bottom lip. “I want to be a doctor.”

His eyes widen. “No shit. That's impressive.”

“And probably ridiculous.” I sigh and trace the top of my bottle with an index finger.

“Why ridiculous?”

“Pre-med is incredibly hard. And doesn't come super easily to me.” I give him a crooked smile. “I'm taking a bunch of science classes and they're killing me.”

“Then why do it?” He gazes at me with genuine curiosity. “If you take something you like, it should be easy.”

I snort-laugh. “If you have brains, yeah.”

“Clearly you have a brain, Rapunzel.”

“I'm not a genius like my older sister.” I glumly study my indigo-polished toenails. “She's now a resident in Boston. It's easy for her. Me, I have to work my ass off.”

He blinks at me as if he doesn't understand that concept.

“Like you do at hockey,” I prompt him. “Right?”

“Oh yeah. Right.” He frowns. “Actually, hockey's pretty easy for me. I mean, I work at it, and I work out to stay in the best shape I can, but it's not like it's hard.”

“Oh.” I purse my lips. “What are you taking?”

“Some engineering courses. A math course. Physics.”

“Physics? Seriously?”

“Yeah. Physics is cool and it actually applies to hockey. Like skating. The friction of a skate blade with the ice. A skater propels himself forward by pushing off the ice with a force perpendicular to the skate blade. Then when he pushes off with his back leg, a perpendicular force is exerted on the skate by the ice. To push off the ice with greater forward force, and accelerate faster, he has to increase the angle, which increases the component of force in the direction of motion.”

I stare at him.

“Uh, sorry.” He swipes a hand over his face. “I forgot I'm not supposed to talk about shit like that at parties. It makes people's eyes glaze over.”

“No, no. It's cool. You're not just a big dumb jock.” I nudge him with my shoulder.

“Yeah, actually, I am.” He makes a face. “I never planned to go to college, other than some courses I took to fill time. I had to take things that were easy, otherwise all the time I spent on the road would make it impossible to keep up. Plus, I'm kind of interested in building stuff.”

“I'm sure you had all kinds of girls willing to loan you their notes. Help you study.”

His lips curve into that sexy smile. “Well, yeah.”

I shake my head, smiling back at him. “And physics is
easy
for you? Jesus.”

He shrugs. “It's just the way my mind works. When it comes to writing papers, I suck. I can't spell for shit and my grammar is pathetic.”

This cocky guy being smart
and
admitting a weakness makes him even more endearing. That buzz of attraction grows stronger, his magnetic pull more powerful.

“So just because your sister is a genius and is going to be a doctor doesn't mean you have to if you don't enjoy that stuff.”

Ugh. I sigh. I know he's right, but I've spent my whole life trying to keep up with my older sister. Trying to prove to my parents I'm as good as she is. As smart. As talented. Except so far it's never really worked, so I have no idea why I think this is going to. And even if I actually do make it into med school, Elisha will probably end up being a neurosurgeon and I'll be a family practice doctor. “Well.” I beam a smile. “Some things are worth working for, right? I mean, some of my classes are challenging, but that just means I have to work harder.”

“Determination, eh?”

I can't help my grin. “Canadian,
eh
?”

He looks abashed. “The guys keep bugging me about that. I didn't realize how often I say it. That one slipped out.”

“It's cute.”

His eyes flicker, as if he's not sure I mean it or if I'm flirting with him because he's a hockey player.

Am I?

No. I don't care if he's a hockey player. He's cute and smart and funny and I'm enjoying talking to him. And I know it's not going anywhere, so I can be myself without worrying if I'm making a good impression or coming across as dorky and studious. Or if it's going to lead to something more than I can deal with.

He lifts a hand to shift some hair off my face with a gentle gesture, and his gaze moves down over my hair. He likes it.

My breasts ache and my nipples tingle. Oh wow. When our eyes meet, I see the same kind of heat reflected in his.

I haven't felt this alive in months, and only with this arousal shimmering through me do I realize exactly how…anesthetized I've felt.

“You have a very sexy mouth.” Oh my God. Did I really just say that?

“Thanks. I thought the same about you.” And he touches my face, his thumb brushing over my lower lip.

Heat spirals up through me from my core and my gaze is locked to his. My lips part and I am aching for him to kiss me. I want to know if his sexy mouth tastes and feels as good as it looks.

This is so not like me, and I don't know what's getting into me. Maybe it's the heady feeling of knowing I'm with a guy every other girl at the party wants. Maybe it's the hard lemonade. Maybe it's relief at knowing I can actually feel this way again. My body is tingling and warm everywhere, especially between my legs and in the tips of my breasts. So I go up on my toes and touch my lips to his.

We're still staring at each other, but his eyelids grow heavy at my soft kiss. His eyes close briefly, and his hand goes to my hip and pulls me closer. Then our eyes meet again and fire consumes me. His lips quirk in that sexy way. “You just kissed me.”

I blink. “Uh…yeah.”

“Okay, then.” And his eyes close as his mouth moves back to mine.

I'm helpless to resist. I'm longing for a deeper taste and I close my own eyes as our mouths meet.

Kissing is so lovely. And Jacob is an amazing kisser. His mouth is firm and warm, with just the right amount of pressure, and his tongue licks inside with confidence, not aggression. He's bold but tender. His hands clasp my hips and pull my lower body flush against his, and I set my hands on his shoulders.

His bones are big, his muscles thick. I feel his arousal growing against my lower belly. He's turned on too.

I mean, it doesn't take much for guys to get hard. But still, it's a rush knowing that's for me.