Living With The Player

CAMILLA RENÉE

THURSDAY.

CAL-U

RESIDENCE HALL B.

“Of course, you can’t wear one of those hideous outfits in your closet, you’ll have to borrow one of mine and…”

Miranda continues rambling, waving a few fingers in the air whilst planning *my* dream date.

“I’m not going.”

I declare. She freezes, then turns to me. A chuckle slips out. Then silence. A staring contest in which both of us don’t blink.

Then she takes a few steps until she’s inches away, lowers her head until its metres away from mine before uttering-

“Yes. Yes, you are.”

I shake visibly because her voice is down to earth scary. Images of my best friend shoving me out the door filled my brain. It’s not impossible. I’ve lost this fight already.

I guess I have a date tomorrow.

Exhaling sharply, I accept my defeat and grab a jacket.

“We were planning on having lunch before all of this?”

As though a switch was flipped, her face curves in a wide smile.

“Yes, we were.”

She clicks her shoulder to mine and we exit the room. I can not stop thinking about the date. It’ll be my first time out with another guy in almost a year.

******

FRIDAY.

I forgot today will be the final day of the first week of class, hence party night. In high school, they throw parties at a frat house or a friend’s place, but in college, it’s done openly with beer and whiskey.

It overjoyed a part of me I hadn’t gotten shoved by Miranda to such a party, because of my date.

Great. Then fate gives me a butt smack. Jimmy texted this morning that we should attend the party instead of the restaurant. He said and I quote, “last time was fun before all the other stuff. I was hoping I could make another fun memory and not have it ruined.”

At first, I cringed. Hard. Then I thought it was sweet and Miranda could not stop yelling and gushing. First date at a frat party? I have to give it to him for outside the box thinking.

However, I don’t like parties for obvious reasons. I’m weighing all the pros and cons of this. There’s just one bad side; my past. A lot of good things.

People around. I’ll be more comfortable. Miranda in plain sight. I can dress myself up.

Ugh.

Eventually, I texted back and agreed. It is one of the worse decisions I’ve made and I’ll come to regret it.

Today I have three classes. General psychology. History of psychology and my all-time favourite; experimental psychology.

The third class will be fun because I’ll actually get to take notes and maybe we’ll get an assignment for a subject.

The thought of it is exhilarating.

****

Miranda buzzed my phone with six reminders of the date. She’s ensuring I don’t miss this.

Turning off the fourth one, I slipped through a few bodies and stepped into my final class for the day.

Experimental psychology.

The teacher is male. He starts by passing around a piece of paper. It contains our names and a project.

Finally.

****

After the introductory phase, we get to the good stuff. The assignment is to write up a report on someone you know. Explaining their likes and dislikes and trying to figure out why they have them.

I can’t wait to get started. I’m thinking Miranda might be a good subject for this.

“Gorgeous…”

Jimmy coos by my left ear. I thought everyone had left.

*Clearly not.*

I shut my computer screen, shoving it away.

“Stop calling me that.”

Hissing, I made my way off the chair.

“Considering I’ve called you that twice, and this is the first time you’re calling me out on it, I think you like it just that I pissed you off.”

“Stop analysing me.”

I murmur with a groan. Sure, the nickname gives me tingles in all the good places. It doesn’t mean I like it or I like Jimmy.

“Convincing yourself otherwise won’t help.”

“Didn’t I just tell you not to analyse me!?”

I snap since we were the only ones left in the lecture hall.

“It’s fun and you know I’m right.”

He grins.

“What’s fun is you trying to humour your way into figuring out whether I’m going to bail on you today because you know I didn’t send the text.”

I smirk.

“Touche.”

He clicks his tongue while I grab the rest of my stuff.

“Are you bailing on me, though?”

His tone is careful. Vulnerable even.

From the corner of my eye, I watch him play with his fingertips.

“No Jimmy, I’m not bailing on you. ”

I exhale, bobbing my head a little.

*Even though I want nothing more than to watch movies all night.*

I keep the rest to myself, then lift my head since I’m ready to leave.

“Do I pick you up or…”

A smile is threatening to break at his tone. He sounds like a five-year-old.

“No, you do not pick me up, Jimmy ”

I grin while facing him.

“You’re smiling and the date hasn’t even begun. Do you see what I mean? You like me.”

The spell is broken. I roll my eyes.

“You looked cute for a second there.”

I reach for his cheeks, having to stretch my arm a little as he’s much taller.

Pinching it tenderly, I chuckle and try to move backwards, but Jimmy’s arms are around my waist and tugging me closer.

The gap between us is non-existent anymore. I gasp and the air in my throat caught.

“You know I’ve been keeping a tight lid on my self-control, trying my very best not to touch you.”

His fingers rake up my arm, leaving tingles in their wake. I swallow hard. I can’t let him get to me like this.

“Then you do that.”

He ducks his head, stooping his mouth at the base of my ear.

*It’s hot in here. It’s an oven in here.*

My hands are knotted together in front of my thighs, rooted to that very spot. I think I want this. At least my body wants this.

I can’t even get an eye roll out.

“Camilla…”

He trails out, sucking in what I think is his lower lip.

“Mmm”

I murmur back.

“I’ll see you at eight pm.”

His breath grazes my upper neck before he pulls away completely, exhaling deeply, then digging his hands and raking his hair thoroughly.

I can’t even mask the look on my face which might be desire. Fuck. Me.

I clear my throat. Twice.

“I’ll see you at eight.”

I retort, turn out and practically run out of there.

Once I’m out, I realise it wasn’t hot in there at all. It was Jimmy.

With a hand over my neck, I recall how his breath felt right there. How good it felt right there.

*Do I really like Jimmy?*Content (C) Nôv/elDra/ma.Org.

*****

“I approve.”

Miranda bobs her head, inspecting my choice of outfit. I’m tempted to roll my eyes, flip her the finger or something because I genuinely do not give a fuck if she cares. I’m on edge as it is.

Jimmy’s stunt in the lecture hall. What tonight will bring? There’s a bad feeling lurking in my mind. I’m not sure why.

However, I look moderately good.

Button-down shirt exposing my tummy ripped pants and I’m considering tying my hair in a messy bun.

Miranda took charge of my makeup, hence an hour or more of pure torture.

Again, murder me now.

****

“The Uber will be here in two”

Miranda announces, bubbling with excitement. She looks smoking. Her clothes are matching mine, just a little more revealing and body-hugging. I’ve never been the girl with curves to kill, but Miranda’ is just to die for.

“Don’t overthink this. Jimmy is a great guy.”

*That’s what scares me.*

“I’ll try not to.”

I manage a smile, pressing my lips into a straight line.

The last reminder of the date goes on and a text from Jimmy pops up simultaneously.

“I promise we’ll have fun tonight. You’ll be happy if you let me make you happy.”

I blink a few times.

Happy. When was the last time I was happy? Maybe let loose for tonight. Maybe give Jimmy a chance. Aside from Jimmy, there’s the other elephant in the room. The mystery of “him” he was here. I haven’t figured out why and as much as I suppress all of that, it’s still there.

“Uber’s here.”

Miranda chimes breaking me out of those thoughts. Let’s see where the night takes me then.

******

“You went skiing again?”

I hung my mouth open.

Jimmy nods furiously, and my lips break into a smile.

“This feels like déjà vu because you told me never again.”

He joins me, laughing for a little while.

“I said that, but I conquered that fear over the winter.”

“So how did it go?”

“I didn’t fall again, if that’s what you’re asking.”

He nudges my shoulder and that little contact leaves me aching. Aching for more.

“Cheers to conquering our fears.”

I lift the glass a little before bringing it to my lips, then setting it down.

Looking around, this date isn’t the worse. Sure, people are getting high and wasted. Miranda is God knows where, but Jimmy has been good company. He doesn’t over-talk; he knows how to keep the conversation light and interesting, and my body seems to react well with his, yet the doubt lingers.

“You look beautiful, as always.”

He chirps. Good thing I’m looking away because my face flushes at his compliment.

“If only you let that guard down…”

He trails off.

“In the next few seconds, you’re going to kiss me back or shove me so hard that I fall, but frankly, a taste would be worth anything.”

His breath is at my neck again. I gulp hard.

Maybe let loose a little.

“A taste wouldn’t be so bad either.”

I whisper back, swerve my head towards his, and take his lips.

Granted, it wouldn’t be the first reckless choice.

****