Rumor Says I'm Dating the Campus Bad Boy

The rumor had been circulating for three days before Jace Carter cornered me behind the humanities building.

Apparently, half of Westbridge University believed we were sleeping together.

Which was impressive, considering I had never spoken to him in my life.

I was taking the shortcut back to my dorm when someone stepped into my path and blocked it completely.

Tall.

Very tall.

The guy was at least six-foot-three, easily fifty pounds heavier than me, and built like he could bench-press my entire dorm room without breaking a sweat.

Black jeans. Heavy boots. A battered red leather jacket over a white T-shirt.

His hair was dyed a vivid copper-red that should have looked ridiculous and somehow didn’t.

He looked like a walking hazard sign.

“You Evan Hayes?”

His voice was low and rough enough to send an involuntary shiver down the back of my neck.

I hated that my body reacted before my pride did.

I tugged the brim of my baseball cap lower. “Who’s asking?”

“Jace Carter.”

The name rang a distant bell. CampusConfess posts. A story Ryan had once started telling before I stopped listening. Maybe something involving a bar fight.

Nothing comforting.

“What do you want?”

Jace let out a short laugh. There was nothing amused about it.

“You seriously have to ask?”

I blinked up at him from under the cap. “Yes?”

He stepped closer.

The toe of one heavy boot nearly touched my sneaker. The scent of cold air, mint, leather, and something clean invaded the space around me. He was so much bigger up close that I had to tip my chin back to hold his gaze.

“You’re the one telling people we’re hooking up.”

My brain stalled.

“Hooking up?”

“Don’t play dumb.”

“With you?”

His jaw tightened.

I flattened my palms against the cold brick wall behind me, not because I was frightened—at least, that was what I told myself—but because there was nowhere else to put them.

I was five-nine on a good day, slim, pale, and cursed with the kind of face people liked making assumptions about. Guys hit on me. Girls hit on me. Gay guys sometimes asked whether I was absolutely sure I wasn’t gay.

So far, I was.

I had never been attracted to a man.

I had barely been attracted to anyone.

And I definitely had not started a rumor that I was sleeping with a terrifying stranger who looked ready to bury me behind the library.

“I didn’t start anything,” I said.

Jace’s eyes narrowed. “Then why are you hiding under that stupid hat?”

“I’m not hiding.”

“Take it off.”

“No.”

Something in his expression sharpened.

He reached toward me.

I jerked backward on instinct, my shoulders striking the wall. My cap caught against his knuckles and tumbled to the concrete between us.

Everything stopped.

Jace froze with his hand still suspended in the air.

The anger drained out of his face so completely it was almost frightening.

His chest stopped moving.

Even his breathing seemed to halt.

For several long seconds, the narrow walkway was silent except for the distant hum of traffic.

Then his chest rose with a sharp intake of air.

“Holy shit,” he breathed.

It sounded like a different person speaking.

I stared at him, unsettled. “I told you, I didn’t start the rumor.”

“You’re Evan Hayes?”

“You came here looking for Evan Hayes.”

“Right.” His throat moved as he swallowed. His eyes dropped, just briefly, to my mouth before returning to mine. “Right. I just—”

I waited.

His ears turned red.

“That’s a nice name.”

I frowned. “Thanks?”

He stepped closer again, but this time the movement held none of the earlier threat. If anything, it looked involuntary, like his body had made the decision before his brain caught up.

The heat coming off him was startling in the cold air.

“But,” he said slowly, “I think I’d rather call you babe.”

My breath caught.

Not because I liked it.

Obviously.

“Excuse me?”

Jace smiled.

Not a smirk. Not the dangerous half-grin I would have expected from someone with his reputation.

A real smile.

Wide. Bright. Almost boyish.

It transformed his entire face.

“I’m your boyfriend,” he announced. “Nice to finally meet you.”

• • •

For several seconds, I honestly wondered whether the stress of being threatened had caused me to hallucinate.

“What did you just say?”

Jace’s ears turned even redder.

“I said…” He cleared his throat. “Maybe the rumor people have a point.”

“The rumor people?”

“The people saying we look good together.”

I inhaled through my nose.

Slowly.

“Jace, I’m not gay.”

“Okay.”

“I also didn’t start the rumor.”

“Sure.”

“If you want to publicly deny it, I’ll cooperate.”

He wasn’t listening.

I could tell because his gaze had dropped to my mouth again.

The awareness of it made my lips feel strangely hot.

I pressed them together.

That only seemed to make it worse.

Jace took half a step forward.

The movement brought him close enough that his shadow fell over me.

His shoulders filled my vision, broad enough that the brick wall and winter sky seemed to disappear behind him.

I could smell his jacket now—worn leather, cold rain, laundry detergent, and the sharp clean trace of mint on his breath.

My heart misfired.

One hard beat.

Then another.

Danger, I told myself.

That was all it was.

My body recognized a larger person invading my space and was preparing me to run.

Except I didn’t run.

Jace leaned down slightly. At six-three, he had to. The angle made the size difference between us suddenly, uncomfortably obvious.

His voice dropped.

“Can I kiss you?”

My hand moved before my brain did.

Smack.

The sound cracked between the buildings.

Jace went completely still.

My palm stung from the impact.

For one horrifying second, all I could think was: I just slapped the guy Ryan once described as a human disciplinary hearing.

Well.

This was how I died.

My fingers trembled.

I curled them quickly into my palm, hoping he hadn’t noticed.

Jace raised one large hand and touched the reddening mark on his cheek.

Slowly, he turned his face back toward me.

Copper hair had fallen into his eyes.

He didn’t look angry.

He looked fascinated.

“…Could you do that again?”

I stared.

“What?”

His mouth curved.

“Your hand’s really soft.”

I took a step away from the wall.

“And you smell good.”

“Oh my God.”

“Is that a no?”

“You’re insane.”

“Probably.”

I turned and walked away.

Fast.

Not running.

Running would imply fear.

Behind me, heavy boots hit the pavement.

Once.

Twice.

Then settled into an annoyingly easy rhythm beside mine.

“Evan.”

I ignored him.

“Evan.”

Nothing.

“Babe?”

I stopped so abruptly he almost walked past me.

“Do not call me that.”

Jace stopped too.

For one blessed moment, there were almost three feet between us.

Then he took one lazy step closer.

There went the three feet.

“Okay,” he said.

“Okay?”

“No babe.”

“Good.”

“For now.”

I glared at him.

He smiled like that had been the entire point.