Chapter 2

2

Benji

I yawn and set the popcorn bowl on the coffee table in front of me. I've got the whole place to myself for the weekend. I reposition the pillow behind me and get comfortable as I continue to watch the movie.

Nothing like being home alone and lounging on the couch in my underwear. I'm sure my house mates wouldn't appreciate it if they were here, but who cares. They're not here.

I should be out partying like a normal twenty-one-year-old college football star, but I'm tired tonight and don't feel like hooking up. It's not like me, but maybe I'm due for a little relaxation.

I mute the television when I hear something in our entryway.

"Hello?" I call.

Who the hell would just walk into the house? I'm not expecting anyone.

Long blonde hair and ocean blue eyes catch my attention. This beauty before me is wearing cut-off jean shorts and a tight tank top which does nothing to hide her curvy figure.

She sets her bag down on the floor and holds her arms closely to her chest. "Hi," she says softly. "Is Miles here? I need to talk to him."

My buddy Miles, one of my housemates and another player on the Tennessee University football team, never mentioned he was going for the young ones.

I grin. "Miles isn't here. What's up?" I sit up and her eyes move down my chest and stop at my crotch.

She bites on the tip of her index finger, her cheeks a rosy shade of red. "You might want to cover up."

I look down. I'm only wearing my black boxer briefs, so I grab a blanket and cover my privates.

She bites her bottom lip. "Is Miles around?"

"He's in North Carolina for the weekend. They went to a car show."

Her shoulders sag and her bottom lip quivers.

Holy shit. Is she gonna cry?

She shakes her head and picks up her bag. "Okay. Thanks anyway." She turns and starts to walk toward our front door.

"Hey, hold up." I toss the blanket aside, hop off the couch and go after her. "Don't leave."

She has her hand on the doorknob of the entryway door but turns to me. "I'll catch up with him another day."

I put my hand on her shoulder and for some strange reason, a little electrical current goes through me.

What's wrong with this girl? She's obviously upset.

I motion toward the couch. "Come in and sit down. Why don't you tell me what's going on."

She sniffles and nods. "Okay."

I grab my athletic shorts off a nearby chair and slip them on. "Sit down."

She sits on the couch and grabs the blanket I was just using. She holds it close to her chest, taking a shaky breath.

"This hasn't been my night."

"I'm sorry." That's all I can think of to say.

"I just wanted to talk to Miles."

Miles is like me— worse maybe. He doesn't date, doesn't commit, so I can't figure out who this mystery woman is.

My eyebrows raise. "And you are?"

"Oh sorry. Grace."

"I'm Benji."

"Grace O'Leary."

My eyes go wide. "O'Leary?"

"Yeah, Miles is my brother."

I drop her hand like it's hot grease. I recall a conversation Miles had with us— that his sister was starting at Tennessee U and when she comes around, we better stay the fuck away from her. It's no surprise he gave the warning. She's a beauty that I'd love to get my hands on.

Grace is sweet and pure. Her long blonde hair and fair skin gives her an angelic aura. Her blue eyes are bright like the sky on a beautiful summer day. Her mannerisms, the way she talks— I can tell she's innocent. Untouched.

She's exactly the kind of woman I could corrupt. I've definitely done some things I'm not proud of and things Grace O'Leary would most likely not take a liking to. Although I could show her the way to pleasure, I know she's off limits. Forbidden fruit. The kind of girl I can only dream about.

She folds her hands in her lap. "Since Miles isn't here, I can head back to the dorm."

"No, you seem upset. Did something happen?"

She rolls her eyes. "I'm sure you have better things to do than listen to my problems."

"Did someone hurt you?" The hair raises on the back of my neck at the thought of anyone laying a hand on this girl, and I clench my fists. "Tell me what happened."

She explains everything from the party to the cops to the roommate and the roommate's boyfriend taking over her dorm. She even adds something about a fortune and a lucky eight ball— how the whole evening was doomed from the start. When she's finished with the story, she shrugs. "I have a big test on Monday, and I need some good sleep. I don't want to listen to those two going at it like rabbits all night."

I chuckle. "Like rabbits?"

"Whatever." She rolls her eyes. "I was going to ask Miles if I could crash here for the weekend, but since he's not here, I'll just?—"

Before I can think better of it, the words tumble out of my mouth. "You can stay here. It's no problem."

"Are you sure?" She raises an eyebrow.

It's a real turn-on when a girl can lift only one brow. I'm a real sucker for that.

"Of course," I confirm.

"I'll give him a call— just to make sure he's okay with it." She takes her cell phone out of her purse. "But you have to promise me you'll never tell him about the party. He'd go ballistic if he knew I ended up there."

I hold up two fingers. "Your secret is safe with me."

She smirks and it practically melts me into a puddle. "But can you really be trusted?"

Is she flirting? Her eyes are glowing and she's so fucking tempting.

I give her a wink. "Not always, but I promise I won't tell Miles."

She lets out her breath. "Thank you."

After she calls her brother and tucks her phone back into her purse, she grins. "He said it's a good idea for me to get some sleep and I can crash in his room." She wrinkles her nose. "He swears he put clean bedding on before he left for this trip."

I stand up from the couch. "Do you like hot chocolate?"

She grins. "I love it, but only if it has the tiny marshmallows and plenty of whipped topping."

I reach for her hand, and she slips her much smaller hand in mine. "Come on. Let's go make you some hot chocolate. It'll cheer you up."

"Do you have those little marshmallows and whipped topping?" Her blue eyes glow.

I squeeze her hand. "You can't have hot chocolate without it."

Still holding her hand, I lead her to the kitchen, and gather the ingredients— milk, cocoa, marshmallows, and the whipped topping. When I grab the spray can of topping from the refrigerator, I can't help that my mind goes straight to the gutter. I hand her the can.

She bends her head back and sprays the cream into her mouth. My jaw drops and I practically come in my shorts.

She laughs. "Sorry. I love this stuff. Do you ever have it straight from the can?"

If only you knew, sweetheart. If only you knew what dirty things we could get up to with that whipped cream.

I nod. "It's good stuff." I get a pan out from the cupboard and put it on the stove.

She points the can in my direction. "Open up," she says as she moves closer to me. I open my mouth and she gives me a shot of the creamy goodness. "Good, isn't it?"

I can't stop myself from taking her in. She's so innocent. I feel comfortable and I can't ever remember having a date over here to make hot chocolate.

She leans back again and before she can get the cream into her mouth, I bump into her arm. On purpose. She misses her mouth, and the whipped cream hits her chin and neck.

She lets out a squeal. "Oh my gosh." She wipes her chin. "You did that on purpose." Her eyes glow as she breaks out into a huge smile. "I will get you back for that, you know," she teases.

I grab a towel and act like I'm going to toss it to her. Instead, I hold it above my head. "You have to come get it." I wink and give her a smirk. I have at least six inches on her and there's no way she'll be able to reach the towel.

She charges to me and does her best to jump and retrieve and towel. "Hey, no fair." Her bottom lip juts out.

We go back and forth around the kitchen with her doing her best to jump and get the towel away. She laughs and it's addicting. When we're completely out of breath from laughing, I hand her the towel. She takes it cautiously.

I turn my back to her and get the milk in the pan and turn on the burner. I add the cocoa and start to stir the mixture.

I feel a mist of cold water on the back of my neck. "Aahhh. . ." I turn around and she's holding a bottle we use to mist the plants in our kitchen.

"Told you I'd get you back," she says as she points the bottle directly at me. "You better not come any closer," she teases.

I act like I'm going to come closer.

She gives the bottle a squirt and the mist of water hits my face and neck. She lets out a squeal and takes off in a run and I go after her. She runs through the living room and into the dining room, and back into the kitchen, screeching the whole way. Once we're back in the kitchen, I grab her from behind and wrap my arms tightly around her waist. She points the bottle toward me. "Do you dare me?"

My front is against her back and my dick gets a little rub on her ass. I'm immediately hard.

I struggle to get the water bottle away from her while still holding onto her. As our hands fight for control, the bottle squirts us both— her in the chest and face and me in the chest.

She giggles uncontrollably. "Oh my gosh." She wipes her face with the same towel she used for the whipped cream incident and then hands the towel to me. "You're really fun. Thanks for cheering me up."

I wipe my damp chest with the towel. "Anytime." I give her a cheesy smile which makes her giggle even more.

She plops down on a barstool as I return to the stove and the task at-hand. Thankfully, the milk is just starting to heat up and we didn't burn the house down with our antics.

"You in the freshman dorm?"

She nods. "Yeah. Hamilton."

"You don't get along with your roommate?"

"Devyn." She shakes her head. "No, not really, but I'm stuck with her for the year." She twists her long hair around her finger. "Honestly, I didn't even want to come here for school. I wanted to go to Bishop Teacher's College in Antonson. But, of course, my mom and Miles talked me into coming here."

"Why?"

"So Miles could watch out for me." She fiddles with her gold necklace. "My best friend Lucy is at Bishop, but it's four hours from home and Mom and Miles thought it was too far away from family."

I can't stop looking at her. I want to solve every one of her problems and never see her sad again.

"How far away are you from home now?"

"From here to Livingston is five hours." She rolls her eyes and shakes her head. "Makes no sense, right? But they insisted I'd have Miles nearby." She sighs. "I'd rather try to do some things on my own, but that's another story."

I pour the cocoa into two large mugs. "Maybe you can get into one of the private dorms for your sophomore year and that'll help."

"Maybe." She wrinkles her nose.

"I assume you're majoring in elementary education since you considered going to Bishop."

She leans forward on the countertop which makes me take notice of her cleavage. I try to look away so I don't come across like some perv.

"I'm technically not declared, but the plan is teaching. I've always wanted to be a teacher— for as long as I can remember."

I set the mugs at the counter and sit on the barstool next to hers. I hand her the bag of marshmallows, and she drops a few of them into her steaming mug.

"What about you?" She pauses for a beat. "Is Benji your real name?" She slides the bag of marshmallows in my direction, and I drop a few in my mug.

I chuckle. "Well, my full name is Oliver Benjamin, but I'm known around here as Benji."

She scrunches up her nose. "Does anyone call you Oliver?"

My eyes meet hers. "Not unless they want to lose their teeth." I grin. "Well, my mom calls me Ollie."

As I squirt the whipped cream into my mug, I can't help but think how sexy it would be to cover her in it. I pass the can to her and, like me, without any antics, she squirts cream into her mug.

"What's your middle name?" She takes a cautious sip of her hot chocolate.

"Alexander."

"Oliver Alexander Benjamin." She bumps her foot into mine. "Has a nice ring to it."

I chuckle. "Thanks."

She takes another sip of her hot chocolate which leaves a small amount of whipped topping on her upper lip. Her little pink tongue quickly comes out to lick away the cream. I groan.

"Where's home?" She blows on her drink.

"Charleston, South Carolina. Born and raised and my folks are still there."

"Do you get to go home much?"

"I try to go home for the summers so I can work full-time."

"Wow. Ambitious."

"What about you? Miles has said a few things about growing up— that you guys had it pretty rough? I'm sorry."

She shrugs. "I don't like to be a downer. My mom is phenomenal— other than being too overprotective like Miles. But it's been rough— I'm not gonna lie. My dad ran out on us when I was just a baby and Miles wasn't even in school yet. Left my mom alone to raise us."

"Well, your mom did a great job with you." I bump into her elbow with mine. "Not so sure about your brother though. He's another story," I tease.

She laughs. "Miles is a good person. Our dad though." She shakes her head. "He gets my mom pregnant, runs out on her and moves to another town." She takes a sip of her hot chocolate. "Sorry about that. I'm sure it's more than you wanted to know. Anyway, I could never be around any guy who would be a deadbeat dad and would leave his own kids."

I swallow hard and my stomach drops.

As protective as her brother is, I'm sure she's not had many boyfriends. Too bad she's too good for me. I doubt she'd ever want to be with a player like me. Most importantly of all, I don't share with her who else is in Charleston. If I were interested in her, my other life would be a definite dealbreaker for na?ve little Grace.