Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
I jump in while his mouth is full. “The guy really needs to eat. He burns thousands of calories a day and he’s barely had a chance to touch his meal. Give the poor guy five minutes to nourish himself before you shoot your shot.”
Cammie bites her lips together, presumably to stifle her laugh.
Mac’s eyes go wide.
The girl’s face turns red. “I’m so sorry. I just…I’m sorry. I’ll come back later.”
I smile and aim for friendly and sincere. “Thanks. We don’t want him to end up with indigestion from shoveling it in too fast. It could affect his game.”
“Oh God. Of course not.” She flounces back to her table, glancing over her shoulder a couple of times.
“I bow to you,” Cammie says.
“You didn’t have to do that, but thanks.” Mac forks more mac and cheese into his mouth.
“You should keep eating, because I can only deflect so many girls before your magnetic allure attracts another one.” I motion to him with my fork.
“You’re right.” Mac assumes the feed-the-beast position. He curves one hand protectively around his plate, leans in so his face is only inches from his food, and barely takes a breath between bites. He looks a little feral and I like it. I’d eat like that too if I was interrupted ten times a meal.
“Do you have someone in mind for the hockey gala?” Cammie asks Mac, sort of innocently, sort of not.
She knows I think Mac is hot with his red hair, freckles and enticing dimple, but so does everyone else on campus, so I’m no snowflake.
Mac shrugs. “It’s a lot to take someone to those events, you know? Like so much pressure. I have to make sure they feel included, and that they mesh with my friends and their girlfriends.”
I tip my head. “Then why do you tell them you’ll keep them in mind?”
He swallows his bite before he answers. “I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.”
“But you’re giving them false hope.”
“I mean…I might ask someone, maybe,” he hedges.
I let it go. Whatever his reason for making every single girl who talks to him feel like he’ll actually ask her out isn’t my problem. “What are you two up to later?” I motion between them with my fork. “I have an assignment for social psych, and Gage said he’d pop by with notes from when he took it.”
Mac’s eyebrows lift and then drop. “Why is Gage offering you his notes?”
“Because he’s a friend.”
“Right. Yeah. Of course.” His eyebrows separate for a moment before returning to their furrow. “But do you trust Gage’s notes?”
“There was a girl in his class who had a crush on him and she had nineties and always let him copy hers, otherwise I would pass,” I explain.
“Chase and I can make it,” Cammie says.
“I can also make it,” Mac adds. “I have notes from that class, too, and I finished with an eighty-six.”
“I’m more than happy to take your notes, if you’re willing to share them.” Mac’s notes might smell like him or his room. I could study and sniff him without it being weird. “Want to meet around nine at my apartment building?”
“Sounds good,” they agree.
Another girl gets sucked into Mac’s orbit, but at least he’s mostly done with his meal this time.
CHAPTER 3
MAC
“This is literally the worst place in the world to study,” I mutter.
“Seriously,” Fee agrees.
Fee suggested we go up to her apartment that she shares with Tally when we first arrived. It would be my preference because her space would smell like her and not burnt cheese, but Gage is Gage-ing hard. A girl in Fee’s apartment-style residence that he’s digging on passed us on the way in, so instead of going somewhere practical, where we can hear ourselves think, we’re sitting in the common room on Fee and Cammie’s floor, accomplishing nothing.
At least the view across from me is great, but I’ve barely made a dent in my assignment.
“I’m working up the nerve to talk to her. I need my wing-people.” Gage is doing a terrible job of being discreet with the way he keeps checking out the girl sitting two tables over with her friends.
Unfortunately, she keeps looking over here, but not at Gage.
“Just bite the bullet and ask her out so we can relocate somewhere more reasonable for studying.” Fee tugs on the end of her blond ponytail. She has bright blue paint caked under her nails, and a few dots of hot pink on the back of her hand. It’s cute.
Lately I’ve noticed that Fee tugs her ponytail often when girls interrupt our conversations, so I guess it’s tied to frustration. Which is understandable. We rarely, if ever, make it through an evening or event without several interruptions. But it’s ramped up with the impending hockey gala. There’s one person I’d like to ask, and she’s currently sitting across from me, looking slightly annoyed.