King of Campus

By: Jennifer Sucevic

As if this guy has any wrong places...

Because, trust me, he doesn’t.

I'm seriously starting to feel light headed over here. Like I need to sit down and put my head between my knees just so I can breathe through this whole ordeal. That’s when I notice the huge brown stain marring that perfectly chiseled chest of his. His jeans, which seem to be riding rather low on his lean hips, are also dripping with my chilled coffee as well.

This feels like one of those horrendous first-day-of-school nightmares that people jolt awake from in an icy cold sweat. Then, once they realize it's nothing more than a terrible dream, they fall back against their pillows in relief.

Except this is actually happening to me.

Which makes it, like, a thousand times worse.

I'm just about to open my mouth and stutter out yet another lame apology, when I hear, "Hey, King, what the hell happened to you?"

Hearing those words thankfully breaks the strange spell that has fallen over me at the sight of him as I blink my eyes a few times before giving my head just a bit of a shake. I’m hoping the movement will somehow jump start my brain into action. That’s when I realize this little incident is drawing a whole lot of unwanted attention. Thank god I'm wearing huge sunglasses that cover my eyes and face. Otherwise this guy would get a good look at me.

Anonymity is the only thing getting me through this moment.

"I-I... maybe I have a napkin in my bag." Not that a napkin or Kleenex is going to do anything to clean up that drippy mess. But it's the only thing I can think of. Other than run away and never see this gorgeous guy ever again. Which is a shame. As I slide my phone into my bag, I start rummaging around in it.

But it's a pit in here. My fingers come in contact with books, a calculator, an extra pair of tights for dance class, a few hair bands (also for dance class), a pair of ballet shoes (yep, you guessed it- dance class), chap stick, hand lotion, sanitizer, my wallet, a protein bar, pain medication, a tampon...

Apparently I have everything except something to help clean him off.

"Don't worry about it, sweetheart."

Well, I have to hand it to the guy... he's definitely taking this like a champ. If someone had spilled an entire drink on me, I'd be pissed as hell.

My eyes lift just in time to see him whip off the snug fitting t-shirt leaving an amazingly bare chest in its place. My mouth instantly dries as my sunglass hidden eyes widen before licking over every exquisite tanned inch of him.




Someone must have chiseled this guy from marble. It takes everything within me not to reach out and slowly stroke my hands over him. Because that's exactly what I want to do.

And maybe lick him as well.

Yes... I definitely want to run my tongue over his lustworthy pectorals.

And those abs...

Six pack?


Try an eight pack on for size.

This guy's definition is literally amazing.

As someone who uses their body for artistic expression, I can certainly appreciate the utter beauty of a well sculpted form.

God, can I...

"See something you like, gorgeous?"

Even when that cocksure tone hits my ears, I can't stop my eyes from eating him up. He uses the now wadded t-shirt to wipe away some of the wetness that has trickled down his stomach.

Yes, I'm definitely feeling woozy.

And it's not the jet lag that has my brain taking a mental pause either.

As much as I'm having my very own private moment with this guy's amazing body, I can't help but become aware of the catcalls and whistles now coming from all directions. Glancing slowly around me, I realize there are pockets of girls who have also stopped to admire the bare chested Adonis in front of me.

The tips of my ears reignite with heat. Wanting to distance myself from the calamity, I take a hasty step backwards.

Then another one.

"I really am sorry," I mumble again, all the while continuing to back away from him. He's just on the verge of opening his mouth when I suddenly turn and bolt down the wide sidewalk. As I do, I can't resist throwing one last look over my shoulder. Our eyes lock for just a moment before he's swallowed up by a surging crowd of onlookers.

But still his blue-green colored eyes stay fastened on mine as I hightail it to my ten o'clock class which I’m now late for. Not that there's anything good about what just occurred back there, but I'm sure as hell wide awake now. I suppose that's an unexpected bonus regarding the disaster I'm currently sprinting away from. Raising a hand to my cheeks, I realize they're still burning with humiliation.

The only thing I can do is shake it off and move on with the rest of my day.

Barnett has about twenty thousand students so the chances of running into that guy again are slim to none. At least that's what I keep telling myself because it makes me feel decidedly better.

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