See No Evil

Argh!

I suck in my teeth as I resentfully slow my ascent up the stairs leading to my psychology class—a class I’m already five minutes late to, I might add.

Mr. Quarterback himself has decided, today of all days, to make the bold move of standing guard right at the door to get my undivided attention. His calculated position makes it that I have to bypass his imposing frame if I want to get inside the classroom, which means I can’t ignore his beautiful, sculpted face as I’ve painstakingly tried to do for the past few weeks. Unless a meteor suddenly falls from the sky onto the big Northside jerk’s head and knocks him out cold, I have no choice but to confront the gorgeous beast of a man head-on.

Damn it.

Fi

I seriously don’t get why the hell I’ve suddenly become so goddamned fascinating to Richfield’s pride and joy star quarterback. His stalking behavior is all sorts of confusing, and frankly, messing with my head more than I would like it to be.

I mean, why me?

What’s so fucking thrilling about chasing my ass around campus when half the female population of this school would be on their knees in a hot minute if he so much as snapped his fingers in their direction? He and I both know that I’m not necessarily his type. I mean, let’s be real, we are total opposites of each other. He’s the captain of the football team while I’m the girl who has never even so much as seen a game in her whole life.

He’s all-American perfection.

I’m the poster child for this country’s rejects.

He’s old Asheville money and privilege.

I’m the Southie eyesore that people steer clear from.

He’s caviar dreams and champagne wishes.

I’m the trailer trash his momma probably warned him about.

I doubt it can get any further apart on the social spectrum than the two of us.

So what’s his deal?

Unless Fi

So what gives?

And how the hell did he get his hands on my class schedule in the first place? It’s the only explanation I have for him to suddenly have a GPS tracker on me, showing him exactly where I am at any given moment. During all my years at college, I’ve probably only seen Fi

Yeah, I’m not buying it. Fi

Worst of all, he is totally unapologetic about his stalking tendencies. He makes no effort to hide himself from me, nor does he act like it’s a total coincidence. It’s happened more times than I can count, and honestly, I’m getting sick and tired of this cat and mouse game of his.

“Fuck off,” I a

“Good morning to you too, Stone. You’re late.” He smirks arrogantly, proving once again the fucker knows my ins and outs around Richfield.

But the cocky grin on his face starts to slip as his eyes begin to roam my body. I stand just a little bit straighter so he can have his fill, getting a sick satisfaction when I watch his scowl deepen, and his brows pinch together in aggravation.

Ever since Fi

“What? See something you don’t like?” I tease when his focus lingers a bit too long on my cleavage.

Pretty boy Fi

“You think you’re cute, don’t you?”

“You tell me,” I quip back i

He releases a sharp exhale up into the air and begins to run his fingers through his wavy golden locks.

Like that will help him deal with my perky breasts all up in his face.

Little does he know that with this i

Yep, now it’s my turn to stew in discomfort.

He keeps combing his hair back absentmindedly, while I try not to stare at the strands that must feel like heaven to touch. Smooth silk teases his fingertips, making me just a tad envious he can play with his dark-golden mane any time he likes, and we mere mortals can only sit back and watch.

While Fi

Fi