“Oh, I’ve already got that one locked down.”

“Really?” He raised an eyebrow.

John leaned over and whispered. “I love it when they debate. It’s better than Judge Judy.”

I had to agree. The liberal girl and the conservative guy seemed like the biggest cliché in the world, but not only did they make it work, they made it interesting for the rest of us.

“Hit me with your best shot,” Monica said.

Trey crossed his arms over his chest. “What is Dillion’s Rule and how can it be applied to our local government?”

Monica rolled her eyes. “Please. Like that isn’t your favorite question to ask me.”

I could feel the heat rolling off of John’s body, he was so close to me. Something stirred inside of me. As fun as it was to watch Monica and Trey argue, I wanted something different. “Want to get out of here?”

“I thought you’d never ask, Red.”

I pounded my hand on the table, rousing Trey and Monica from their debate. They snapped their heads in my direction. “Hey, me and John are going to get out of here since it seems like you two have a handle on this studying thing.”

Monica sighed. “I’m sorry. Do you want me to make him go away? I can totally do that.”

I stood up, forcing my books back in my bag and then yanked my coat on. “No, don’t worry about it. I’m sure we’ll catch up later.”

A slight smile crossed Monica’s lips. “Oh, I see what this is.” She made quotation marks with her fingers. “You two want to have a study session of your own.”

John put his arm around my waist, pulling me to his side. “Just like you two are about to do.”

“If by studying, you mean me wiping the floor with Trey in a debate, then yes, yes we are.” Monica smirked.

“On that note.” John and I backed away. “I’ll text you later, Mon.”

We took the stairs two at a time as if we both couldn’t wait to get out of there. “So where to? Coffee shop? The house?” I asked

John shook his head as he opened the front door and ushered me out. “The house is way too loud. I can’t even think there. It’s supposed to be study hours, but half the guys are shit faced.”

“Okay, so coffee?” I bit my bottom lip. God, how could this guy turn me on so much? This was why I didn’t want to study with him—because all I could think about was how bad I wanted to forget about cancer and just have him.

John put his arm back around my waist. “How about your place? More comfortable, better atmosphere, and I don’t have to listen to every freshman kid freak out because they may fail out of school.”

“Was this whole thing just an ulterior motive to get into my apartment?”

He smiled, letting out a breath of air through his nose that immediately turned into a cloud of smoke in the December air. “It wasn’t originally, but now that you mention it...”

“All you had to do was ask to come to my place instead of finding a way to run into me.”

“Okay, fine. Can I come hang out at your apartment?”

“Maybe.”

* * *

And that was how I ended up back in my apartment with John. I shouldn’t have agreed to it, because all I could think about was pouncing on him.

He sat at one end of the couch and I sat at the other with my feet on his lap. He was looking through his iPad, probably checking Facebook instead of studying.

I yawned and set down my Spanish book, rubbing my eyes and tilting my head back. If I had to look through one more Spanish conversational piece I was going to go blind.

“So, why Spanish?”

He had set the iPad on the table next to him and his full attention was on me.

“Two years of a foreign language is required for a Bachelor of Arts and my three years in high school didn’t qualify,” I said it matter-of-factly.

“Why not try a different language then? What are you going to do with Spanish?”

I shrugged. “I’ve already done all the prep work, so it just seemed like the next step.”

“But what are you going to do with it?” His fingers lazily rubbed circles around my ankles. “When you walk off that stage with your diploma, where do you see yourself going?”

No one had ever asked me that in that way. A lot of people asked what I wanted to do after college and I usually gave the same answer. Which is what I gave John. “I don’t know. Whatever job an English major will get me. Hopefully something with writing or in publishing.”

“Like fiction writing? Are you going to be the next JK Rowling?”

I tried not to snort. “I’m not that good. My old boy band fan fiction isn’t exactly New York Times Bestseller material.”

“You don’t have to be a New York Times Bestseller to be a writer. If you love something, you don’t do it just to make some list. You do it because you love it.” He lifted my ankle to his lips, placing the lightest kiss on it. I didn’t think that was a usual place to be kissed, but there was something about it that made my pulse rise. “Do you love writing?”

Did I love writing? Yes and No. I loved letting my fantasies and all the characters swimming in my head fall into words that I wrote on my paper. What I hated was the way it would get ripped to shreds when it was read in one of my English classes or the thought of countless rejections from publishers so that I would end up writing for some crappy local blog just to pay the bills. I didn’t want my life to be focused around my work or making money, but when I had a mom that was living paycheck to paycheck, I thought about it a lot.

“Sometimes I do.”

“If you don’t love something, then don’t do it. If it’s not in your heart, don’t follow it.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Do you only do things that you love?”

His eyes locked on mine like there was no one in the world but me. Not just the room, but the world. It made every hair on my body stand on end and I was acutely aware that he was touching me. It was one of the best sensations. “I’m the bull, Red. I try to do what I think is best, but there is always that person waving the red flag in my face and trying to get me to turn the other way.”

“And you think the bull doesn’t have another choice? That he couldn’t just ignore it?”

He put my foot down and leaned in closer, crawling on the couch until he was hovering over me. “Sometimes people are just misunderstood. People and animals. We can’t just assume they are thinking one thing and can avoid temptation. It’s hard as hell to avoid that red flag when it’s waving in your face.”

“Are we talking about the bull, or you, or writing now? Because I’m really confused.”

He grinned, his teeth flashing a brilliant white only a few inches from my face. “It’s always been you and me, Red. Even before we were us. You’ve always had the control in this relationship. Some things may distract us, but I’ll always come back to you.”

I swallowed hard. He always knew just what to say and it still left me speechless. When I first met the muscled guy I didn’t think much of him, but in just a few short months he’d become my everything. I’d fallen in love with the guy behind the amazing smile and killer abs and it scared the hell out of me. I’d thought I loved Robby, but it wasn’t like this. This was something way more powerful. This was something that I felt deep in my core and I was afraid what would happen if he didn’t feel it too.

“Sorry to get all cheesy on you. I just had to get that out.”

I shook my head and licked my lips. “No. I like it. You’re way better at this talking thing than I am.”

“We don’t need to talk, if that’s not what you want to do.” His lips were at my neck, the stubble from his cheeks tickling me.

I closed my eyes, savoring the feel of his skin against mine. I wanted to let go and say those three little words to him. He could babble on with the most poetic of verses without even trying, and I, an aspiring writer, could barely string a sentence together in his presence. Instead I just moaned when he nipped at my earlobe.

“What do you want, Red?” he whispered.

“I don’t want anything right now but your lips on mine.”

And he obliged. His lips quickly finding mine and his tongue diving behind them. I pulled him closer, wrapping my arms around his neck and with his warm body pressed against mine. His hands went from running through my hair, down my face, and finally resting at my sides where his fingers found the space that my shirt didn’t meet my jeans. He skimmed the bare skin, sending goose bumps wherever his fingers touched.

When his lips dropped to my neck, I gasped and could feel him smiling between kisses. “How’s this for studying?”

“I’m not taking anatomy.” I breathed.

“Then say it in Spanish. That counts as studying, mi amiga.” His tongue ran along my jawline.

“Amiga means friend. You’re probably looking for something more like novia or amor.” I was barely able to get the words out, between his nibbling and kisses.

“God your brain is sexy. Keep talking.”

That was something I’d never heard, especially not in the middle of a make out session. But who was I to judge? I couldn’t even think of what to say, so I just didn’t think and started saying what I was feeling, but in Spanish. With each word I spoke his fingers dug into my sides, his breath ragged against my neck. It may not have technically been studying, but if I was using the language then it had to count for something. And it was the hottest study session I’d ever had.

“You are so unbelievably sexy,” John growled against my neck.

With his breath on my neck and his hands roaming around me, my body built up to the brink and then I cried out as his lips ran across my jaw. Did I seriously get off without him really touching me? Maybe he didn’t notice.