Jennifer Lynn Armentrout

Two fingers pressed under my chin, forcing my head up. Startling, deep blue eyes framed with thick, black lashes fixed on mine. A blue so vibrant and electric, and such a stark contrast against the black pupils, I wondered if they were real.

A guy was holding me. A guy had never held me. I didn’t count that one time, because that time didn’t count for shit, and I was pressed against him, thigh to thigh, my chest to his. Like we were dancing. My senses fried as I inhaled the light scent of cologne. Wow. It smelled good and expensive, like his…

Sweet baby Jesus, Blue Eyes was…

He was gorgeous in all the ways that made girls do stupid things. He was tall, a good head or two taller than me and broad at the shoulders, but tapered at the waist. An athlete’s body—like a swimmer’s. Wavy black hair toppled over his forehead, brushing matching eyebrows. Broad cheekbones and wide, expressive lips completed the package created for girls to drool over. And with those sapphire-colored eyes, holy moley…

Well, that’s a shame. If so, it would have made this the best first day of class in history.”

“I am so incredibly envious of you right now. I would give my left testicle to run into Cameron Hamilton.”

“You running into me, me almost running over you?”

“It’s like we’re a catastrophe waiting to happen.”

“They’re no way as interesting as I am, but they’re not bad.”

“And hey, we didn’t almost run each other over. Look at us, changing up the pattern.”