Page 9 of Embrace

I shake my head. “N-no. I don’t want that.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t love it last time.”

That’s when I remember who he is.

Mac McCormack. Football tight end. The only thing the reminder of that night does is make me laugh at how pathetic this all is. I’m such an idiot.

I thought I could come back to campus and be whoever I wantedto be. But she’s there, that earlier version, staring at me, a smug little grin on her face as she clings to me like a stain.

Tears blur my vision before I can stop them, and the second Mac sees them, his expression darkens, twisting into something crueler. I remember that about him too.

“How is it that someone so confident in the bedroom is so shy out here?” he asks.

I stand a little straighter. “I’m not shy. I just prefer to keep my personal life private.”

He snorts. “You blew that the minute you got with the football team.”

“That—” I stop. I didn’t actually do that. It was a rumor the linebacker started when I turned him down. But when you’re a girl like me, the details don’t matter.

There’s so much I should do right now. Tell him off. Turn around. Find Sierra. Anything but just stand here.

I can only force back my tears with slow blinks.

“Don’t fucking cry and make me look like the asshole. You’re the slut—”

“McCormack.” A deep voice rattles the space between us.

My heart pounds in my ears. Then I see all six foot two inches of Dalton’s star right-winger towering over us.

Kian Ishida is shirtless, a lei around his neck, tattoos on display, paint covering most of his torso, and jeans hanging so low I can see the waistband of his boxers. Even with clothes on, he’s unavoidable. In study group, not one second went by without me thinking about the fact that he wasrightthere.

Mac lets out an irritated sigh. “What do you want, Ishida?”

“Can you get me a beer?” Kian asks.

He frowns. “Why?”

Kian shrugs. “Because I asked you to.”

McCormack laughs. “Are you fucking with me? Get your own beer.”

“I want you to get it,” he insists. “Or get out.”

He looks thoroughly confused, but so am I. “What?”

“If you’re going to call a girl a slut, you better not do it in front of me,” Kian says. “Now get the fuck out of this house.”

“Ishida, you good?” a frat guy calls, watching the interaction with a curious look. He’s got a sorority girl on his arm—the president of Beta Phi, I realize.

Mac drops my arm and steps back. He shoots Kian a scathing glare and mutters something under his breath as he walks away.

“Hey, you okay?” Kian asks. It’s so soft, that it forces me to hold back another swell of tears. “That guy was a dick.”

I nod, because if I spoke, my voice would crack. He must realize that because he smiles.

“By the way, I’m sorry about study group. I didn’t mean to disrupt your flow.”

“You’re new to group, so I get it. I’m sorry if I came off bitchy.”