Out on the Serve: Out in College, #7 by Lane Hayes

Author:Lane Hayes [Hayes, Lane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lane Hayes

6

Braden

Blind dates were archaic. No one agreed to meeting a complete stranger for dinner these days without stalking them on social media first. Even if your date posted a photo from five years and ten pounds ago, some savvy sleuth-work could get you vital info in minutes. Enough to at least be assured that he or she wasn’t a total psychopath. Yet, somehow, I’d let Sophie talk me into this.

I rinsed toothpaste from my mouth, turned off the faucet, and reached for a towel just as Elliot slid into the bathroom behind me. He handed over a towel…and my cell.

“It’s your mom. She’s called three times in a row. It might be important,” he said nonchalantly. “I’m gonna take a shower.”

“Oh. Right. I’ll get out of your way.” I smiled at his reflection in the mirror and almost swallowed my tongue. Elliot’s bare chest glistened with sweat. He looked like a bronzed god with ripped muscles, broad shoulders, and a stony expression. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” He reached for his toothbrush and gave me an appraising once-over. “You look hot.”

“Thanks.” I wore my best jeans with a light-blue oxford shirt. Not exciting at all, but his gaze moved over my body like molten lava, and whether or not I really looked hot, I certainly felt it. Temperature-wise, that was. “What are you doing tonight?”

“Meeting my mom for a drink,” he said around his toothbrush.

I twisted the cap back on the tube to keep my hands occupied and not give in to the urge to run my fingers along his spine and cup his ass. Not gonna lie, this had been a weird week. Elliot was busy with practice, and he had a couple of evening events to attend hosted by his sponsors. And I had…well, not much. I went to LA to visit my folks on Tuesday, spent Wednesday with some college buddies in Orange, and stayed at the theater all freaking Thursday.

But when I bumped into Elliot…over coffee, in the bathroom, or in the hallway when we were coming out of our rooms, things got hot…fast. We’d start with a pleasant “How’s it going?” and end with our tongues down each other’s throats. Yesterday morning, for example, we stood in the kitchen making small talk about our schedule. Elliot said he had a lot to do, and Gus was annoying the hell out of him. I told him that I felt the same about being at the theater. It wasn’t the experience I’d hoped for. We’d stared at each other and smiled awkwardly before turning to rinse our cups. The second our shoulders collided, something snapped in both of us.

I couldn’t say who made the first move. Everything happened so fast. His hand on my hip, then under the elastic of my PJs and boxer briefs, squeezing my bare ass. My fingers in his hair and my mouth on his. The make-out session was an epic affair of licking, grinding, sucking…and more grinding until Elliot finally backed me against the

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