Page 32 of Broken Romeo
“Jesus,” she muttered.
The friend said something about chocolate and ran toward the other dessert table, leaving me the perfect chance to slide in and talk to Katherine.
I shouldn’t. I knew I shouldn’t.
But it was like a compulsion. I was a fly drawn to a sticky trap. I knew I should steer clear, but I found myself being drawn in by her.
I close what little distance was left between us and lean down from behind Katherine, whispering, “Do you really think that’s the right gig for someone who perspires as much as you do?”
God. I could really be such a fucking asshole when I wanted to. The truth was, nothing about her was a turn-off. Not her sweat. Not her name. Not her fucking adorable retro t-shirts and the innocent blush that tinged her cheeks pink.
She whipped around, glaring at me.
I don’t let her answer me or yell before I add, “Then again, you might be able to get top dollar for that. Some guys are into that. A sweat kink—”
It’s me. I’m some guys. At least when it comes to Katherine.
“What are you doing here?” she snapped, interrupting me.
My smile widened. “Well, I do go to school here, you know.”
“I mean, what are you doing here in the dining hall?”
I grabbed a grape off the tray in front of us and popped one in my mouth. “The meal plan is easier on days that I have back to back classes than going home.”
“You know what?” she sneered. “I think I will sell my panties online.”
“Really?” I asked.
“Yes. Really.”
“I don’t believe you,” I said simply.
She yanked her cell phone free from her back pocket once more and opened up Google.
I raised my brows at her. She thought she would just fucking google how to sell my panties online? Actually, come to think of it, there were probably hundreds of tutorials on TikTok about how to start a panty selling business.
“Would you like me to send you the listing when it’s live?” she snapped at me, typing something I couldn’t quite make out into the search bar.
“Definitely.”
I fucking meant that, too. Not that I thought for one second she would.
But if there was one thing that made me crazier than the thought of her panties wrapped around my dick…
It was the thought of her panties wrapped around some other asshole’s dick.
Fuck that.
I needed to buy them.
I needed to own them.
I need to own her.
Her face turned an adorable shade of peach, but to her credit, she held eye contact with me. “Fine. I will.”
Like hell she will.