King of CampusBy: Jennifer Sucevic
I mean, sure, she has a great ass but still…
“Er, maybe you should put your shorts back on before you give me the grand tour.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see Dylan open his mouth. My narrowed gaze slices to his. “Don’t even say it,” I warn.
Biting her lip, Lexie stifles another laugh before dashing into her bedroom. In twenty seconds flat she rejoins us sporting tiny white shorts. Then she leads the way into a sunny little room before doing her best auto show model imitation as she gestures with wide sweeping movements to all the wonderful amenities my room has to offer.
She points towards the two large windows lining the wall. “Look at all the gorgeous sunlight that pours in!” Then she throws open the bi-fold closet doors. “And a humongous closet for all the clothes you brought back from Paris.” Her arms instantly drop to her sides as she quickly swivels towards me. Her auto show model imitation is totally forgotten in lieu of possible new stylish European clothing. “You did bring me back some clothes, right?”
For just a moment, my eyes travel around the room taking everything in. It’s not huge by any means but after living in Paris, it sure feels like it is. I’m used to about a third of the space. So this feels pretty damn luxurious. I can’t even imagine what I’m going to do with all this space to myself. Then my eyes fall to the double sized mattress shoved up against the far wall and my heart actually swells with unfettered joy.
Oh my god, it’s so big! I’ve been sleeping on a twin bed for the last fifteen months. I literally can’t wait to spread out on that huge mattress. Maybe roll around a bit. Make some snow angles… minus the snow. Already I’m looking forward to hitting the sheets tonight.
I just spent a little more than eight hours on a plane with a two hour layover in Amsterdam. And France is six hours ahead of us. So… I’d like nothing more than to fall into bed right now for a nice long nap.
When I don’t immediately respond, a thread of worry weaves its way through her voice. “Ivy?” Her concerned tone snaps me right out of my thoughts.
“Of course I did,” I finally say. “There’s a short, thigh length pleated skirt, two hand woven scarves, one cashmere sweater, a gorgeous black knit top and these creamy trouser pants that your ass will thank me for.”
If watching Lexie sprawled out on top of me, wearing nothing more than a lacy little thong and a tank top is Dylan’s idea of a wet dream, hearing about all the beautiful clothes I brought back from Paris is hers. We’re talking flushed cheeks and dilated eyes here.
And yes… it’s entirely possible Lexie could have an embarrassing moment in her shorts. Although I hope not.
“Oh, I can’t wait to see them,” she squeals in delight, practically jumping up and down with unbridled enthusiasm.
Fashion design is Lexie’s life. She was a budding fashionista way back in middle school before I ever cared about what top went with what bottoms. Thank goodness for Lexie or I probably would have been much more of a walking fashion disaster than I was.
So of course I scraped together enough money and perused a few vintage boutiques to find unique pieces I knew she wouldn’t be able to get here in the States. I hope she loves them half as much as I think she will.
“What about some hot French lingerie?”
Since Dylan is standing directly behind Lexie, she doesn’t bother turning around to admonish him. She simply rams her elbow right into his gut. He grunts in response. If she hadn’t done it, I probably would have.
“Just stand there and look pretty,” she mutters under her breath.
My lips twitch at her words because he is definitely pretty.
Lexie gives me a little wink as if she can read my mind. “Don’t let his good looks fool you, he’s smart, too.”
Of course he is.
Because gorgeous and smart are exactly the kind of guys Lexie attracts. While I, on the other hand, had the sad misfortune to fall for a hot athletic jerk who assured me he was going to remain faithful to his study-abroad-girlfriend when in actuality, he started hooking up with other girls as soon as above-mentioned-girlfriend was out of the country.
I’ve had the last fourteen and a half months to get over Finn McKenzie. And I have. I am totally over him. Unfortunately he’s been calling and texting almost relentlessly for the last week, which means he’s been occupying my thoughts way more than I’d like.
Perhaps I should say he’s been trying to call and text. Because I haven’t bothered to pick up his calls or respond to his rather lengthy and apologetic text messages. I mean, can you seriously believe that? The guy has some nerve reaching out to me after what he did. Is he really so delusional as to think we’re just going to pick up where we left off now that I’m back at Barnett?
Apparently he is.
We’d been together for about six months before I left for Europe. And yes, I knew having a long distance relationship would be difficult but I was still willing to give it a shot. I’d really grown to like Finn. I literally hadn’t been gone more than two weeks when Lexie Skyped me about what Finn had been busy doing… which had been, in case you’re wondering, other girls.