Home > G-RING : A Bad Boy College Romance(9)

G-RING : A Bad Boy College Romance(9)
Author: Diana Gardin

I reel back. “You snorted at Guns N’ Roses? You serious right now?”

Her full lips curve into a smile. “I did. Because November Rain? Most boring rock song ever.”

I shove backward on the couch, a hand clutching the spot where my heart should be. No pretenses about that. I know that thing went cold and dead years ago.

“Fucking blasphemy!” I point an accusing finger at her. “No one ever did it like the Guns.”

A smirk, too sexy for her own good, crosses her full lips again and for a second I just let my gaze settle there. “You sure about that?” She glances around the Ring. “Wanna bet?”

Her friend, who I’m noticing for the first time is still sitting next to her, offers a dry laugh. “You don’t wanna go toe-to-toe with her about rock music, dude.”

Her friend is a blonde, her hair the color of honey, and on any other night, I’d be all over it. Her legs are bare, her short red dress riding high on her thighs. But I can’t spare her a second look.

“Oh, yeah?” My tone lowers, going dark. Drinking in the girl beside me, I allow the challenge to show in my eyes. “Prove it.”

Leaning forward, her deep, dark gaze holds mine, giving me all the attitude she holds in that tight little body of hers. With an exaggerated motion, she moves her lips, forming the words slowly.

“Two words: Bon. Jovi.”

Dragging my gaze away from her lips, I shake my head in disbelief. First of all, I can’t believe she even knows who Bon Jovi is. Hell, she’d known who Guns N’ Roses was. But this was almost too much.

This woman really does like the good stuff when it comes to music.

“The band has its place among the greats, but Jon Bon Jovi is no comparison to Axl Rose. That’s just the truth.”

She leans back, mouth set in determination. “I disagree.”

At this point, it’s getting ridiculous. I need to know. The not knowing is digging a hole down deep inside me, and I’m falling in nice and slow.

I lean forward, chasing her with my movements. “What’s your name?”

Her friend’s soft chuckle doesn’t pry my eyes from the girl beside me. “This conversation is so over my head it’s ridiculous. I’m gonna grab another beer and check on Jaxon. He better be winning. You want another one, Ny?”

The raven-haired beauty glances at her friend and shakes her head. She’s been nursing the beer in her hand because she’s been tossing around an argument about rock music with me. A smug feeling warms my stomach.

“Oh,” her friend leans over the back of the couch and stage-whispers. “You came here with a guy. So, keep chatting it up with Mr.…” she glances at me and then looks back at Ny. “Guns N’ Roses. Should make Noah crazy with jealousy.” Grinning, she skips off toward the bar area.

She glances over her shoulder at Noah, and then back at me. She slides over on the couch, putting some distance between us.

When I raise a questioning brow, she shrugs and turns her body so that she’s facing the televisions once more. “I’m not about the games. I’m not trying to make him jealous.”

Forcing myself to stay where I am, and not move over so that I’m just as close to her as I was seconds earlier, I focus on her face. “That’s…different. I don’t know too many college girls who aren’t about the games.”

I shoot a pointed glance in the direction of her blond friend.

Her gaze follows mine, and then she looks back at me.

Every time. Every single time those chocolate pools focus on me, I fall in. Deeper and deeper. I can’t help it. It’s the whole package. And then she started talking about Bon Jovi, and I almost lost it right then and there.

Control, Ace. Something you’ve never been good at, but that you’ve struggled to find. Keep it together. Control.

“So, you’re here with him?” I jerk a thumb over my shoulder. “I don’t see it. And you still haven’t told me your name.”

She smiles, a real smile. Not a coy, flirtatious smirk, but something sunny and genuine, and it’s equally as dangerous. Something in my chest clenches so tight at the sight of it, my hand trails over the spot.

Like something gave me heartburn.

And it wasn’t something I ate.

“I’m Naima.”

I try it out, the word rolling off my tongue like it was always supposed to be there. “Naima. That’s pretty.”

“Thanks. And you are…” One dark, perfectly arched eyebrow lifts. “Don’t leave me hangin’.”

I grasp her hand in mine, raising it to my lips. Something I’ve never done before in my entire life, but somehow it fits her.

“I’m Ace Wells.”

She nods, like my name isn’t weird, and I frown. “What, you’re not gonna ask me if that’s my actual name?”

One thin shoulder lifts to her ear before she drops it again. “I’m not one to question anyone’s name. Have you ever met another Naima?”

“I see your point.”

A silence passes between us, one that isn’t uncomfortable. The guys on the seats in front of us let out a chorus of cheers and groans as the University of South Carolina makes a big play on the screen. Naima’s gaze lands on the television, before she glances over her shoulder. She takes a long swig of her beer, killing the bottle.

Gesturing toward the poker tables on the other side of the room, she sends me a wry smile. “So, obviously I’m keeping you from something.” She rises to her feet, before I can argue. “You sure as hell aren’t here to chat it up with me. So, have fun and all that. I gotta get back to…Noah.”

The lackluster tone in her voice makes me smile. It makes me so happy it’s not even reasonable. “I’m not—”

But she walks away then, whirling and sauntering toward the poker table where her friend now sits on her boyfriend’s lap. She leaves me with nothing but her name and a whiff of her perfume…or maybe it’s her shampoo? It’s spicy and sweet…like cherry and vanilla.

A rare and beautiful combination, exactly like her.

Standing, I take up a point against the wall beside Borg, just watching her for a minute. She grabs another beer, and then heads to the poker table where Jaxon and Noah are most likely losing all their inherited money to the house.

To me.

My eyes follow the path she blazes as she traipses to the table and stands beside Noah. He barely glances at her before focusing back on his game. I can almost hear her bored sigh.

Borg nods toward her. “She on the menu for you tonight?”

Shaking my head slowly, I don’t remove my eyes from Naima. “Nah. She’s not like that.”

Borg snorts in disbelief. “First of all, that don’t sound like you. Second of all, she’s here with that dude over there.”

A grin curls my lips upward. “Yeah, but look at her. She look like she’s into him?”

Borg takes another look, and I know exactly what he’s going to see. At the same time, Naima’s eyes lock with mine. The heat sizzles between us like fire spread by gasoline. It’s palpable; its tension stretched taut.

Borg chuckles. “Oh. Yeah…gotcha. Go get her, boss.”

But now isn’t the time. She cocks her head to one side, studying me. For the second time tonight I’m under the impression that she sees way more than I’ve ever allowed anyone to glimpse. I’m not sure what she views, but a small quirk of her lips tells me she doesn’t hate it.

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