Chapter 2: Cassidy

##Chapter 2: Cassidy

Book One: Stay

I don't know what's going on with me, but I can't stop staring. And when I say staring, I mean full-on checking him out. It's embarrassing. Although honestly, I don't think I've ever seen anyone as beautiful as the guy standing before me.

Okay, so maybe beautiful is the wrong word. I don't think guys really like being referred to as beautiful, but there isn't another word to adequately describe him.

He's completely beautiful.

It's tempting to stand here and stare at him for the rest of the night.

But I won't because, in my limited experience, beautiful guys are-more often than not-egotistical douchebags. Even though I'm only nineteen, I've already had my fill of those.

So thanks, but no thanks.

That being said, my fingers almost itch to slide their way through all that messy chocolate-colored hair. And don't even get me started on those golden-brown eyes of his. Yup, totally dreamy.

Er...if I were a dreamy sort of girl, that is.

Which, trust me, I'm not.

He's almost as tall as Alex but not quite as broad in the shoulders. Athletic-looking with long, lean muscles that are showcased in jeans and a simple dark, T-shirt that hugs his chest and upper arms quite nicely.

And damn if that isn't my very own personal kryptonite.

This guy is way too gorgeous for his own good.

Mine too.

It takes effort to shake myself out of the stupor that has fallen over me, because I'm definitely not in the market for a boyfriend or a random hookup or even a friends-with-benefits situation.

I want nothing to do with guys, period.

End of story.

Then he goes and smiles this smooth, slow grin that spills its way dangerously across his strikingly handsome face.

Aw, crap.

The kicker is a pair of perfectly placed dimples that wink at me.

No doubt about it-definitely kryptonite material.

It's almost laughable the way my heart slams against my breast as I stare. I'm not the kind of girl who is susceptible to male eye candy. No matter how beautifully packaged it is.

So...whatever he wants, I'll be passing on. Now, if there happens to be a tiny pang of regret sliding its way through me at the notion of walking away, I shut it down before I can make any more disastrous decisions in my life. Because, trust me, I've already made more than my fair share of them.

"Nope, sorry." After the calamity that was last year, I'm only beginning to find my bearings. Self-preservation is now the name of the game. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Unfortunately, he isn't so easily deterred. I almost sigh. The good-looking ones never are. "So, what did Alex do to deserve being chewed out by a pack of angry women?"

Without bothering to answer, because that's exactly how one gets sucked into these kinds of conversations, I swing away. The sudden need to escape surges its way through me. I push and shove with more impatience, searching for Brooklyn's blonde head in the crowd.

Even though I'm desperate to leave, I refuse to abandon Brooklyn. We agreed early on to always use the buddy system when out at night which is partly how I got wrangled into this mess in the first place. If I'm not being forced to join her for a night of heavy drinking and possible hookups, I usually make sure she's with someone who won't flake out at two in the morning and leave her stranded at some off campus fraternity party.

Bad things happen to girls who think there is safety in a party of one.

I'm hoping if I ignore Mr. Beautiful long enough, he'll give up and go away. That's usually my go-to weapon of defense. And most of the time, it's effective.

"Hey, are you going to answer me?"

Again, his voice is distractingly at my ear. I can practically feel his warm breath ghosting over my flesh. Little shivers of pleasure laced with fear skitter their way down my spine. I grit my teeth in response, attempting to ignore him.

Good-looking or not, this is just annoying. Although, most of my irritation is directed at myself for the reaction he's able to pull so effortlessly from me. It's taken the better part of nine months to emotionally deaden myself. Somehow this guy has shot all my hard work to hell with two adorable dimples and a pair of gorgeous whiskey-colored eyes. Not to mention the rest of the package.

Yeah, it's best not to think about that right now.

Without a word of warning, I spin toward him again. I'm hoping the element of surprise will have him backing off. Except he's much closer than anticipated. With the shitty luck I'm having this evening, I crash into his muscular chest.

Did I happen to mention how hard all that chiseled strength is beneath my fingertips?

Or that I might actually enjoy running my hands over what I imagine to be amazing pecs?

This isn't good.

With lightning quick reflexes, he reaches out to steady me as my gaze clashes with his.

"No." Usually, if ignoring doesn't work, bitch-mode will get the job done rather nicely. That's my second go-to line of defense. And since I'm not naturally a bitch (I'm really not), it's not something I enjoy doing.

Once in a while, I'll actually get called a lesbian for not being interested. Why is it that the most persistent guys are always the ones who take rejection the hardest? And they certainly like to go right for the jugular when it becomes clear-to them anyway-that they won't be tapping anything of mine with anything of theirs.

Totally annoying.

Narrowing those gorgeous eyes of his, half his mouth lifts into a smile. My breath catches again. How can that be just as devastating as the full-blown smile he's already treated me to?

I almost have to shake my head to clear it of the spell he's weaving around me.

"No?" He tilts his head a bit to the side and continues to watch me. There's just a hint of a smirk hovering around the edges of his lips.

"No." Forcing myself to hold strong against all this gorgeousness crammed into one irresistible package, I repeat before elaborating, "I wasn't going to answer you."

Brows drawing together, he blinks as if I'm some sort of strange specimen smeared across a microscope slide. "What's your name?"

I shake my head.

Nope. We are definitely not going to play this game. There is no way in hell I'm getting dragged into a quasi-friendship with this guy. I can already feel it would be a mistake of epic proportions.

If, and that's a really big if, I have a type, this guy is it. Therefore, he must be avoided at all costs. That would be the smartest move to make and I'm all about being smart. I refuse to fuck up my life any more than I already have.

His brows, which are thick but not overly caterpillar-like, hike up his forehead in disbelief. "So, let me get this straight-you won't tell me what Alex did to upset you and you won't give me your name?" Laughter brims in his rich, deep voice as he shakes his head.

The slow scald of a blush burns its way across my cheeks. Nervously, I glance around the crammed, dimly lit room one last time, hoping Brooklyn will magically appear so I can grab her and bolt, but that apparently isn't meant to be.

There hasn't been a Brooklyn sighting in at least twenty minutes.

"I'm not upset." But I'm definitely getting there. And it has absolutely nothing to do with the gigantic ass who groped me and everything to do with the gorgeous, tawny-eyed, dimpled Adonis who won't leave me alone.

"But you did sic those three girls on him, right?" He nods his head to the left, and my gaze naturally slides in that direction. We're both able to see the incredibly tall and brawny Alex along with the three girls who are still in the process of ripping him a new one. Focusing on that for a moment lightens my mood considerably, because you can just tell those girls have totally committed themselves to their mission. It's doubtful Alex will be going anywhere for a while. And if he does manage to escape their clutches, they'll probably follow him, picking up more girls along the way.

Technically speaking, I only pulled one girl into our conversation. That being said, I'm not going to lie, it's kind of a proud moment for me. I really hope Alex has learned his ass grabbing lesson tonight.

"He got what he deserved," I say.

I consider that entire incident a public service to all women who attend Western University.

You're welcome.