“Olivia Beaumont.” I stuck my hand out to shake his, like I’d been raised to do. “Thanks for the help. You can leave me alone now.”
Brax took my hand but his gaze stayed on my eyes, and his strong fingers wrapped around mine. The jolt of excitement that shot through me at his touch surprised me, but it was accompanied by alarm. I pasted a grin on my face and prayed there were no tell-tale signs of either. He actually seemed a little stunned that I’d even offered a handshake. Although he didn’t squeeze too hard, I could feel his strength radiating in his grip. A smile lifted one side of his mouth as he regarded me. “You got a middle name, Olivia Beaumont?”
“Were the first two not good enough?” I asked. When he continued to silently stare, I shook my head. Strange request, I thought, but I answered. “Grace,” I said, and then remembered to drop my hand.
His smile was full-blown, and it transformed his harsh features of scars and crudeness into something … else completely. Something that made my blood surge within me. It took me off guard. It could also possibly be the origin of his fan club. “Well, Gracie, I’ll see ya around.”
Brax turned his swaggering, lean form sideways at my open door, allowing a curvy brunette with blonde highlights to pass through. He looked over her head at me, winked, and left. The girl just stared after him, then turned to me, wide-eyed. She wore hot pink shorts, a white tank, and wedge sandals. Her hair was super straight, parted in the middle, and fell nearly to her waist. She carried a big zebra striped purse that rested against her hip.
“You’re Olivia Beaumont, right?” A light, tinny voice fell from her mouth. “I’m Tessa Barnes, your new roomie.” She glanced out the door once more and pushed her palm to her forehead. “Oh my God, do you know who that was?”
I nodded. “Said his name was Brax Jenkins.”
Her big blue eyes, rimmed in dark liner, bugged. “You know him?”
I shook my head and sat on the bed I stood closest to. “No, I just met him about an hour ago. He knocked me down on the lawn then insisted on helping me carry my stuff in. Why?” I purposely left out the kissing part.
My new roommate slowly shook her head. “Oh, girl. Oh … girl.” When I didn’t respond to her exasperated remark, her eyes popped open even wider. Then she muttered what sounded like a stream of Spanish under her breath. “That’s Braxton Jenkins, my darling. Sophomore. Kappa Phi brother. Winston’s big dog starting pitcher. Total man slut.” Tessa shook her head. “Bad ass, and not in a good way. He’s dangerous. Trouble with a big f**king T. If you’ve got any sense at all, you’ll stay far away from him.”
I briefly wondered what my new roomie would think if I told her Winston’s numero uno man slut had kissed me on the lawn? It didn’t take long to decide that was something better kept to myself.
2. Big Dog
What a totally strange way to start an introduction with my new college roommate: a warning to stay away from Brax Jenkins. A warning which I really didn’t need. Tessa plopped down on the end of my bed. I looked at her and lifted a curious brow. “What do you mean by dangerous?” He looked it all right. I’d thought the same thing myself. Man slut? That much was completely obvious.
The serious expression on her face made her arched brows tug forward. She crossed her tanned legs. “He’s a total punk. From Boston,” Tessa began. “Has a short fuse and as you can tell, gets into a lot of fights.” She pointed to her own eye and made an air-circle around it, referring to his shiner. “Lots and lots of fights. Starts most of them, from what I’ve heard. It’s even rumored he killed someone when he was younger.” She rubbed her arms as though the mention of Brax chilled her. “And those eyes are so freaky creeping weird.” This time, she physically shuddered. “Scary.”
Funny, those eyes of his had been scary, but I’d also thought they were—
I regarded my roommate, who seemed to be a little on the dramatic side, and smiled. “He definitely looks like trouble, but being from Boston or anywhere else doesn’t make a person a punk or a murderer,” I said. “You can’t speculate on rumor.” I realized I was defending him, when minutes ago I’d been thinking him a thug, too. Grandpa Jilly would call that being a goddamned hypocrite.
Tessa leaned forward, unaffected by my subtle chastising. “Fair enough, girl. But he is a man slut. Certifiably sound sources have told me that much. Sincerely.”
I just stared at her and waited, knowing she’d give full disclosure. I wasn’t really sure why I wanted it, but I listened anyway.
Tessa sighed, as though irritated that I couldn’t just take her warning at face value. She cleared her throat pointedly. “Braxton Jenkins isn’t just Winston’s top dog starting pitcher for the Silverbacks.” Her slight Texas drawl was made even more dramatic by her intense storytelling of Brax. “He is top-dog over the dating pool. His ego is … epic. His female conquests? Legendary. He’s all about the hootch chase, Olivia. Once he’s caught his prey, stolen the goods, he releases, just like a pro-Bass wrangler at a fishing tournament. Bang ‘em and throw ’em back.” She scowled. “More than one reliable source claims to have heard him say those exact words, too. I mean, how sanctifuckingmonious is that? Bangs and dumps, and does it with no shame. Trust me, he’s heartless. Boy’s like a damned horny hound looking for a bitch in heat.”
I couldn’t help but grin. Tessa’s drama was … entertaining. “That describes about, oh, probably most of the guys on this campus, I’d imagine. But how do you know all this about him? Aren’t you a freshman?”
Tessa bobbed her head. “My older brother is on the baseball team with him,” she said. “He warned me away months ago. Says Brax is an arrogant ass.”
I rubbed my chin with my knuckle. “Again, you just described probably ninety percent of all guys at Winston.” I held her gaze. “So you don’t actually know girls he’s been with?” I asked. Some of what she was relaying sounded more like hearsay, rather than firsthand experience like she wanted me to believe. Gossipy, and having been on the other end of that word, I totally hated it.
“Well”—she cleared her throat again and her face screwed up— “let’s just say I’ve heard plenty, and the sources I’ve heard it from are trustworthy. Besides, he doesn’t try to hide it. He’ll tell a girl he’s a one-night-stander. That I have heard myself. And that means the same as bang ‘em and dump ‘em, right? But I do know guys he’s beaten the shit out of. That’s all the proof I need.” She regarded me, and tucked her straight hair behind her ear. “I’m a little surprised that he came onto you, though. Oh,” she said, catching herself. “Shit. No offense. That came out way worse than how I meant it.”
I shrugged with indifference. “No offense taken. But he didn’t come onto me. He was just being nice for plowing me down.” That was mostly true. The kiss wasn’t a come-on. He’d basically said so himself. It was a … what’d he call it? A reaction.
“Right. Brax doing something just to be nice.” She shook her head. “Maybe. But what I meant was: Brax Jenkins usually goes for a certain type.” Tessa shrugged and glanced me over, from my dusty boots, to my worn, hole-in-both-knees jeans, white tank and thick wad of mousy brown braid. Not to mention, zero make-up. “You’re about as opposite from that usual type as it gets.” She smiled, and her white teeth shone bright against her tanned skin. “But in a totally good way. You don’t want him bothering you, anyhow. Like I said, Olivia. Trouble.” She twirled a finger by her ear. “Maybe even a little loco. You’ll see. He’s like, all over campus, flirting up a different girl every day, scoring a different girl every weekend. So says my brother.”
I nodded. “Thanks for the heads-up, but I promise you—the last thing I’m looking for is a relationship. With Brax Jenkins or any other guy. My full concentration is on school.” I gave her a hesitant smile, hoping that wasn’t too much info.
“I’m from Lubbock. A lot of kids come here from there. What about you?”
And just that fast, Tessa changed gears, so I went with it. More than likely I’d never even run into Brax Jenkins from Boston again. Ever. I was pretty positive he didn’t hang out at the library or the observatory, and that’s where I’d be spending most of my time. Tessa didn’t need to tell me how polar opposite I was from Brax; that was beyond obvious. And, absolutely no big deal. I certainly wasn’t about to become his or anyone else’s throw-backs, conquests, or whatever else you call it, that was a sheer certainty.
What I accomplished here at Winston would set the pattern for the rest of my life, as well as the future of my family’s ranch. I had plans. And nothing—or no one—would stand in my way. That kiss? Yeah, it’d been shocking, to say the least. But now that I knew he’d probably done the same thing a dozen times that day? Chalk it up to experience. One I wouldn’t be repeating.
I smiled, and answered. “Born and raised on a small horse ranch in Jasper. Just north of Abilene. Three brothers, my mom, and grandpa. ” I was pretty sure all the gritty details of my small ranch life mucking out stalls, repairing fences and getting flung from insane horses wouldn’t interest Tessa, so it was my turn to change gears. “Want some help getting your stuff in?”
“Thought you’d never ask!” Tessa leapt up and headed for the door.
We trudged downstairs and crossed the parking lot to Tessa’s silver Jetta. It was loaded to the gills with clothes and shoes. More than I’d ever seen. In. My. Life. I shouldered several duffels and stacked three boxes high in my arms. The heavy scent of hair products and perfume permeated from the top one. My Grandpa Jilly would call her a girly girl.
“My brother Cole’s bringing the rest of it with his truck later on,” Tessa offered as we started back to the dorm. Made me wonder if Tessa had noticed how small of a space we’d be sharing. I wasn’t sure a truckload was going to fit, on top of what we’d carried in from her Jetta already. I’d brought minimal stuff, all of it easily contained on my side of the room.
As we walked down the hallway, Tessa looked over at me. “My god, woman, what do you do? Work out 24-7? Your arms are seriously cut.”
I gave a brief glance at my bared arms, which just looked skinny to me. I laughed. “Just a lot of chores, I guess. Ranch work. Breaking horses.”
“Ugh. I hate chores. And I’m pretty sure I hate horses, too.”
We dumped the couple of loads off at the dorm, and over the next hour and a half I got to know my roommate a little better. Tessa’s mom was from Mexico, which explained her gorgeous tanned skin and fluent Spanish. A pre-nursing student, she still had all of her core to finish. Her eyes bugged when I told her how many core classes I’d completed before I’d graduated high school.
“Astronomy major? Damn woman, your brain must be the size of a basketball in there.” She pointed to my head and her nose squinched up. “I hate science.”
“Okay, let me get this straight.” I smiled. “You want to be a nurse, but you hate science and chores?”
Tessa stared, blinked, then barked out a squeaky giggle. “Yeah, but I love people, and I want to be a labor and delivery nurse. Not much intense science involved there, right? It’s all gravity, baby! Pretty much just a push and catch sort of deal!” She laughed, and so did I. Surprisingly, I felt at ease with Tessa. If someone had pointed her out and said we’d be friends, I’m not a hundred percent positive I would have agreed. We were just so very opposite. Yet, I liked her.
A tinkling sound came from Tessa’s cell, and she grabbed it off the bed, her fingers flying over the keys as she responded to a text. “Cole’s out front! Let’s go!”
We met Tessa’s brother outside, and for some reason my eyes slipped to the spot of lawn where Brax and I had fallen and met. Kissed. Brax had such arresting features, and Tessa was right about those eyes. Shocking. I mentally shook my head to push all dangerous thoughts of Braxton Jenkins out, and glanced at Cole. He and Tessa looked alike, for the exception that Cole didn’t have blonde streaks through his hair. His was buzzed cut, and you could tell he was an athlete; strong build, tall, broad shoulders. He was a cute guy, and I was pretty sure he knew it. Tessa introduced us.
“Hey,” he said quickly. He barely acknowledged me with a glance, and it had lasted all of a half-second. He turned to his sister. “Let’s get this stuff out of here, huh? I got somewhere to be.”
“Don’t be such a shithead, Cole,” Tessa snapped. She looked at me, rolled her eyes, and we started unloading Tessa’s belongings. When she suddenly and loudly cleared her throat, I looked up and she winked at me. “Cole, by the way … how ’bout Brax Jenkins was over here hitting on Olivia earlier?”
I laughed lightly, totally embarrassed, and passed a fast look at Cole over the top of my boxes. “He was definitely not hitting on me.”
Cole glanced at me, and quickly weighed me in from my boots to my hair. It was so plain on his face that he, too, was doubtful Brax Jenkins had any interest in me at all. Still, he put in his two cents. “I’m not gonna talk shit about my teammate, but just like I tell Tess. Stay away from him. He’ll hurt you.”
“Uh, thanks for the warning,” I said quietly. Not only wasn’t I sure Cole had even heard me, he didn’t seem to notice or care, which was okay by me. Staying well below the radar was my goal, and that seemed to coincide with steering clear of Winston’s bad boy. And his teammates. And anyone else who knew him.
Brax took my hand but his gaze stayed on my eyes, and his strong fingers wrapped around mine. The jolt of excitement that shot through me at his touch surprised me, but it was accompanied by alarm. I pasted a grin on my face and prayed there were no tell-tale signs of either. He actually seemed a little stunned that I’d even offered a handshake. Although he didn’t squeeze too hard, I could feel his strength radiating in his grip. A smile lifted one side of his mouth as he regarded me. “You got a middle name, Olivia Beaumont?”
“Were the first two not good enough?” I asked. When he continued to silently stare, I shook my head. Strange request, I thought, but I answered. “Grace,” I said, and then remembered to drop my hand.
His smile was full-blown, and it transformed his harsh features of scars and crudeness into something … else completely. Something that made my blood surge within me. It took me off guard. It could also possibly be the origin of his fan club. “Well, Gracie, I’ll see ya around.”
Brax turned his swaggering, lean form sideways at my open door, allowing a curvy brunette with blonde highlights to pass through. He looked over her head at me, winked, and left. The girl just stared after him, then turned to me, wide-eyed. She wore hot pink shorts, a white tank, and wedge sandals. Her hair was super straight, parted in the middle, and fell nearly to her waist. She carried a big zebra striped purse that rested against her hip.
“You’re Olivia Beaumont, right?” A light, tinny voice fell from her mouth. “I’m Tessa Barnes, your new roomie.” She glanced out the door once more and pushed her palm to her forehead. “Oh my God, do you know who that was?”
I nodded. “Said his name was Brax Jenkins.”
Her big blue eyes, rimmed in dark liner, bugged. “You know him?”
I shook my head and sat on the bed I stood closest to. “No, I just met him about an hour ago. He knocked me down on the lawn then insisted on helping me carry my stuff in. Why?” I purposely left out the kissing part.
My new roommate slowly shook her head. “Oh, girl. Oh … girl.” When I didn’t respond to her exasperated remark, her eyes popped open even wider. Then she muttered what sounded like a stream of Spanish under her breath. “That’s Braxton Jenkins, my darling. Sophomore. Kappa Phi brother. Winston’s big dog starting pitcher. Total man slut.” Tessa shook her head. “Bad ass, and not in a good way. He’s dangerous. Trouble with a big f**king T. If you’ve got any sense at all, you’ll stay far away from him.”
I briefly wondered what my new roomie would think if I told her Winston’s numero uno man slut had kissed me on the lawn? It didn’t take long to decide that was something better kept to myself.
2. Big Dog
What a totally strange way to start an introduction with my new college roommate: a warning to stay away from Brax Jenkins. A warning which I really didn’t need. Tessa plopped down on the end of my bed. I looked at her and lifted a curious brow. “What do you mean by dangerous?” He looked it all right. I’d thought the same thing myself. Man slut? That much was completely obvious.
The serious expression on her face made her arched brows tug forward. She crossed her tanned legs. “He’s a total punk. From Boston,” Tessa began. “Has a short fuse and as you can tell, gets into a lot of fights.” She pointed to her own eye and made an air-circle around it, referring to his shiner. “Lots and lots of fights. Starts most of them, from what I’ve heard. It’s even rumored he killed someone when he was younger.” She rubbed her arms as though the mention of Brax chilled her. “And those eyes are so freaky creeping weird.” This time, she physically shuddered. “Scary.”
Funny, those eyes of his had been scary, but I’d also thought they were—
I regarded my roommate, who seemed to be a little on the dramatic side, and smiled. “He definitely looks like trouble, but being from Boston or anywhere else doesn’t make a person a punk or a murderer,” I said. “You can’t speculate on rumor.” I realized I was defending him, when minutes ago I’d been thinking him a thug, too. Grandpa Jilly would call that being a goddamned hypocrite.
Tessa leaned forward, unaffected by my subtle chastising. “Fair enough, girl. But he is a man slut. Certifiably sound sources have told me that much. Sincerely.”
I just stared at her and waited, knowing she’d give full disclosure. I wasn’t really sure why I wanted it, but I listened anyway.
Tessa sighed, as though irritated that I couldn’t just take her warning at face value. She cleared her throat pointedly. “Braxton Jenkins isn’t just Winston’s top dog starting pitcher for the Silverbacks.” Her slight Texas drawl was made even more dramatic by her intense storytelling of Brax. “He is top-dog over the dating pool. His ego is … epic. His female conquests? Legendary. He’s all about the hootch chase, Olivia. Once he’s caught his prey, stolen the goods, he releases, just like a pro-Bass wrangler at a fishing tournament. Bang ‘em and throw ’em back.” She scowled. “More than one reliable source claims to have heard him say those exact words, too. I mean, how sanctifuckingmonious is that? Bangs and dumps, and does it with no shame. Trust me, he’s heartless. Boy’s like a damned horny hound looking for a bitch in heat.”
I couldn’t help but grin. Tessa’s drama was … entertaining. “That describes about, oh, probably most of the guys on this campus, I’d imagine. But how do you know all this about him? Aren’t you a freshman?”
Tessa bobbed her head. “My older brother is on the baseball team with him,” she said. “He warned me away months ago. Says Brax is an arrogant ass.”
I rubbed my chin with my knuckle. “Again, you just described probably ninety percent of all guys at Winston.” I held her gaze. “So you don’t actually know girls he’s been with?” I asked. Some of what she was relaying sounded more like hearsay, rather than firsthand experience like she wanted me to believe. Gossipy, and having been on the other end of that word, I totally hated it.
“Well”—she cleared her throat again and her face screwed up— “let’s just say I’ve heard plenty, and the sources I’ve heard it from are trustworthy. Besides, he doesn’t try to hide it. He’ll tell a girl he’s a one-night-stander. That I have heard myself. And that means the same as bang ‘em and dump ‘em, right? But I do know guys he’s beaten the shit out of. That’s all the proof I need.” She regarded me, and tucked her straight hair behind her ear. “I’m a little surprised that he came onto you, though. Oh,” she said, catching herself. “Shit. No offense. That came out way worse than how I meant it.”
I shrugged with indifference. “No offense taken. But he didn’t come onto me. He was just being nice for plowing me down.” That was mostly true. The kiss wasn’t a come-on. He’d basically said so himself. It was a … what’d he call it? A reaction.
“Right. Brax doing something just to be nice.” She shook her head. “Maybe. But what I meant was: Brax Jenkins usually goes for a certain type.” Tessa shrugged and glanced me over, from my dusty boots, to my worn, hole-in-both-knees jeans, white tank and thick wad of mousy brown braid. Not to mention, zero make-up. “You’re about as opposite from that usual type as it gets.” She smiled, and her white teeth shone bright against her tanned skin. “But in a totally good way. You don’t want him bothering you, anyhow. Like I said, Olivia. Trouble.” She twirled a finger by her ear. “Maybe even a little loco. You’ll see. He’s like, all over campus, flirting up a different girl every day, scoring a different girl every weekend. So says my brother.”
I nodded. “Thanks for the heads-up, but I promise you—the last thing I’m looking for is a relationship. With Brax Jenkins or any other guy. My full concentration is on school.” I gave her a hesitant smile, hoping that wasn’t too much info.
“I’m from Lubbock. A lot of kids come here from there. What about you?”
And just that fast, Tessa changed gears, so I went with it. More than likely I’d never even run into Brax Jenkins from Boston again. Ever. I was pretty positive he didn’t hang out at the library or the observatory, and that’s where I’d be spending most of my time. Tessa didn’t need to tell me how polar opposite I was from Brax; that was beyond obvious. And, absolutely no big deal. I certainly wasn’t about to become his or anyone else’s throw-backs, conquests, or whatever else you call it, that was a sheer certainty.
What I accomplished here at Winston would set the pattern for the rest of my life, as well as the future of my family’s ranch. I had plans. And nothing—or no one—would stand in my way. That kiss? Yeah, it’d been shocking, to say the least. But now that I knew he’d probably done the same thing a dozen times that day? Chalk it up to experience. One I wouldn’t be repeating.
I smiled, and answered. “Born and raised on a small horse ranch in Jasper. Just north of Abilene. Three brothers, my mom, and grandpa. ” I was pretty sure all the gritty details of my small ranch life mucking out stalls, repairing fences and getting flung from insane horses wouldn’t interest Tessa, so it was my turn to change gears. “Want some help getting your stuff in?”
“Thought you’d never ask!” Tessa leapt up and headed for the door.
We trudged downstairs and crossed the parking lot to Tessa’s silver Jetta. It was loaded to the gills with clothes and shoes. More than I’d ever seen. In. My. Life. I shouldered several duffels and stacked three boxes high in my arms. The heavy scent of hair products and perfume permeated from the top one. My Grandpa Jilly would call her a girly girl.
“My brother Cole’s bringing the rest of it with his truck later on,” Tessa offered as we started back to the dorm. Made me wonder if Tessa had noticed how small of a space we’d be sharing. I wasn’t sure a truckload was going to fit, on top of what we’d carried in from her Jetta already. I’d brought minimal stuff, all of it easily contained on my side of the room.
As we walked down the hallway, Tessa looked over at me. “My god, woman, what do you do? Work out 24-7? Your arms are seriously cut.”
I gave a brief glance at my bared arms, which just looked skinny to me. I laughed. “Just a lot of chores, I guess. Ranch work. Breaking horses.”
“Ugh. I hate chores. And I’m pretty sure I hate horses, too.”
We dumped the couple of loads off at the dorm, and over the next hour and a half I got to know my roommate a little better. Tessa’s mom was from Mexico, which explained her gorgeous tanned skin and fluent Spanish. A pre-nursing student, she still had all of her core to finish. Her eyes bugged when I told her how many core classes I’d completed before I’d graduated high school.
“Astronomy major? Damn woman, your brain must be the size of a basketball in there.” She pointed to my head and her nose squinched up. “I hate science.”
“Okay, let me get this straight.” I smiled. “You want to be a nurse, but you hate science and chores?”
Tessa stared, blinked, then barked out a squeaky giggle. “Yeah, but I love people, and I want to be a labor and delivery nurse. Not much intense science involved there, right? It’s all gravity, baby! Pretty much just a push and catch sort of deal!” She laughed, and so did I. Surprisingly, I felt at ease with Tessa. If someone had pointed her out and said we’d be friends, I’m not a hundred percent positive I would have agreed. We were just so very opposite. Yet, I liked her.
A tinkling sound came from Tessa’s cell, and she grabbed it off the bed, her fingers flying over the keys as she responded to a text. “Cole’s out front! Let’s go!”
We met Tessa’s brother outside, and for some reason my eyes slipped to the spot of lawn where Brax and I had fallen and met. Kissed. Brax had such arresting features, and Tessa was right about those eyes. Shocking. I mentally shook my head to push all dangerous thoughts of Braxton Jenkins out, and glanced at Cole. He and Tessa looked alike, for the exception that Cole didn’t have blonde streaks through his hair. His was buzzed cut, and you could tell he was an athlete; strong build, tall, broad shoulders. He was a cute guy, and I was pretty sure he knew it. Tessa introduced us.
“Hey,” he said quickly. He barely acknowledged me with a glance, and it had lasted all of a half-second. He turned to his sister. “Let’s get this stuff out of here, huh? I got somewhere to be.”
“Don’t be such a shithead, Cole,” Tessa snapped. She looked at me, rolled her eyes, and we started unloading Tessa’s belongings. When she suddenly and loudly cleared her throat, I looked up and she winked at me. “Cole, by the way … how ’bout Brax Jenkins was over here hitting on Olivia earlier?”
I laughed lightly, totally embarrassed, and passed a fast look at Cole over the top of my boxes. “He was definitely not hitting on me.”
Cole glanced at me, and quickly weighed me in from my boots to my hair. It was so plain on his face that he, too, was doubtful Brax Jenkins had any interest in me at all. Still, he put in his two cents. “I’m not gonna talk shit about my teammate, but just like I tell Tess. Stay away from him. He’ll hurt you.”
“Uh, thanks for the warning,” I said quietly. Not only wasn’t I sure Cole had even heard me, he didn’t seem to notice or care, which was okay by me. Staying well below the radar was my goal, and that seemed to coincide with steering clear of Winston’s bad boy. And his teammates. And anyone else who knew him.
