Home > Out of Line (Out of Line #1)(2)

Out of Line (Out of Line #1)(2)
Author: Jen McLaughlin

Marie rolled her eyes and fluffed her hair with her hand. “Well, hurry up. I’m not going to be lame with you as you struggle to adulthood.”

“You don’t have to do anything. Go back to the party.” I shooed her away, a smile on my face. “I kind of want to be alone with my homeless boyfriend.”

Marie eyed me, the hesitation clear in her eyes and the way she held her weight on one foot, the other slightly lifted. “Are you sure?”

“More positive than a proton.”

“Oh my God. Never say that again.”

I laughed. “Fine. Now go have fun.”

“Okay.” Marie hugged me tight, and her hair tickled my nose. “But next time, you stay whether or not you want to. Enough lameness.”

I watched her go. We were complete opposites, but maybe it would make us great roommates. Marie might be the person to pull me out of my self-imposed shell, and I could make sure Marie studied as hard as she partied. It had the makings of a win-win situation. Maybe. Of course, it could be a complete and utter disaster too.

But I was trying to be optimistic, thank you very much.

I leaned back against the park bench, letting out another sigh. I would sit here for another minute before I headed back to my room. Once I got there, I’d curl up with a good romance book with my current book boyfriend and pretend the real world didn’t exist for a little while. It would be the perfect Saturday night…for a sixty-year-old woman.

Lame, lame, lame.

After a couple of seconds of pure relaxation, I stiffened. Someone moved in the shadows. I almost missed it, but out of the corner of my eye I caught movement. Who was out here with me? If Dad were here, he’d be saying it was a druggie desperate for his next hit. He’d sic his private security team on whoever dared to walk near him. I used to go back to the spot and give whoever had been held back by my father’s team some money. One of Dad’s security officers would go with me.

But I wasn’t my father, and I refused to jump to the worst conclusions. I stood up and crept toward the shadows, my heart in my throat and my legs feeling less than steady. My mind screamed at me to turn around and run home, but I ignored it.

“H-Hello?” I called out, but it sounded more like a croak than a word. I licked my lips and swallowed hard, taking another step toward the ocean. “Is anyone there?”

Nothing but the waves crashing. I hesitated. Someone was there. I knew it. “I know you’re out there. You might as well come out. If you don’t, I’ll…I’ll call the cops.”

I held my breath, waiting to see if the hidden person would call my bluff and come out. After a few seconds, a shadowed form stepped forward. As the shadow grew closer, I realized it was a man. A guy who stood at least six feet tall and had muscles that I thought only existed in the romance books I read.

He had to be a couple years older than me, maybe a senior, and he had on a pair of cargo shorts and nothing else. Hot damn, he obviously worked out. A lot. He had short, curly brown hair, and he looked harmless enough. But those muscles…

Okay, when I goaded the guy out of hiding, I hadn’t been expecting a freaking bodybuilder to walk out of the shadows. I backed up a step, biting down on my lower lip. “Who are you, and why are you hiding in the shadows?”

He had a black tattoo of some sort on his flexed bicep. Wait. Scratch that. He had tattoos pretty much from his elbows up and all across his shoulders and pecs. Hot. Really hot. This was the type of guy Dad kept me away from. He had bad boy written all over him. In numerous ways.

He rubbed the back of his neck and stepped closer, towering over me. “Who are you, and why are you hiding in shadows?”

I blinked and forced my eyes away from his ink. “I wasn’t. I was sitting on the bench.”

“Maybe I was too, before you came out.” He grinned at me. “Maybe you stole my seat.”

“Did I?”

“Maybe.”

I shook my head and tried not to smile, but it was hard. For some reason, I liked this guy. “You like that word, don’t you?” I held my hand up when he opened his mouth to answer. “Let me guess. Maybe?”

He laughed, loud and clear. I liked the sound of it. “Perhaps.”

“Oh my God, he says something else.” I held a hand to my forehead. “I might be imagining things.”

“Hm. You do look a little flushed.”

Probably because an off-the-radar hot guy was talking to me. Maybe even flirting? Crap. I had no idea. The last time a normal boy had flirted with me, Dad had his security team drag him out of the mall by both arms. I had no doubt this guy would get the same treatment if he ever crossed paths with Dad. “I do?”

He stepped closer and bent down, his eyes at level with mine. They were blue. Really, really blue, with little specks of darker blue around the pupil. People were always telling me that I had the prettiest blue eyes in the world. They were wrong. This guy did.

“Yep. Definitely flushed.”

I cleared my throat and tucked my hair behind my ear. Until I remembered it was in a ponytail. Then I ended up kind of rubbing against my ear, trying to make it look like I’d meant to do that. And probably failing miserably. “I’m fine.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t.” He backed off and smoothed his brown hair, but it bounced right back into perfect disarray. He headed for the bench I had been sitting on and lowered himself onto it. “So, tell me. Why are you outside instead of partying inside?”

I followed him, scooted my shoes between us to maintain a safe distance apart, and then sat down on the edge of the bench. “Uh…I needed some fresh air. And this party is a little bit too crazy for my tastes. The frat boys are a little crazy too.”

He nodded. “So, you new here?”

“Yeah. I’m a freshman.” After smoothing the stupid skirt Marie had conned me into wearing, I looked at him. “Do you go here?”

“Yeah, I’m a senior.” He cocked his head toward the house. “And I’m in that frat.”

“Oh.” I looked down at my lap. So I’d insulted his friends. Great. Just great. “I’m sure it’s a lot of fun.”

He grinned. “Even though they’re crazy?”

“Uh, sure.” I smiled back at him, but inwardly flinched. It was too late to tell him that the guys were perfectly normal. I was broken—not them. But I would look even more like an idiot than I already did if I told him I’d left because of my own lameness. “Maybe I’ll give it another chance.”

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