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  It’s What You Do

  C L Wesley

  It’s What You Do Copyright ©2019 C L WESLEY

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form without the written permission except the use of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Contents

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  Epilogue-

  1

  Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs. Why is it you have to learn about this structure of psychology or sociology or whatever the fuck it is in every single class? Sitting in my 8AM human resources class, I officially have lost all interest in what the professor was talking about. I have seen this pyramid of needs at least four other times in classes leading into my Junior year at Northern Erie College, a small private college located off the coast of Lake Erie in Ohio. Evidence of my lack of interest was in my notebook- doodles and the items my mom asked me to pick up on my way home from Walmart. NEC was only a twenty-minute drive from my house so paying the astronomical prices to stay in the dorms seemed a little ridiculous. If I want to stay on campus, I usually just crash at my friend Izzy’s dorm.

  I was itching to check out Facebook or Snapchat, anything to hold my attention so I wouldn’t fall asleep, except it was made known to us that for every time our professor saw a cell phone, he would deduct five points from our final grade. The second class of the semester and I was already dying. I started counting the dark grey tiles on the wall above the professor’s head so it looked as if I was paying attention. Losing my count, I look to the left to check out the clock above the door when my heart frantically picked up its’ pace. A pair of ocean blue eyes met mine. Okay- he has my attention. Short dark hair that was a tad shaggy over his forehead, a five o’clock shadow that I think may be there intentionally, and those blue eyes that made my heart skip a beat. I was immediately in lust and did I mention he had incredible blue eyes? Mr. Panty Melter took a seat a couple down from me. I really should add batteries to that Walmart list.

  The rest of the class went rather quickly despite the fact I was looking at the time every thirty seconds or so, hoping he would look at me again. The professor dismissed us for the day and every single student turned on their phones in hopes of catching the latest gossip on Instagram, Facebook, or the newest hookup site, Tinder. It is a one-night stand type app for fucking. Yes, fucking, as in sex. I was not into the one-night hook ups and thought the idea of fucking someone you didn’t know was just plain stupid with all the crazies out there these days. I wouldn’t mind finding a friend with benefits for some stress relief that I did not have to do myself but I do not want a relationship. I am still not ready for that mess, especially after Josh.

  Today, however, I ignored my phone and made a point of leaving our row of desks so that I would have to scoot by him in my Miss Me jeans that I way overpaid for at the Buckle. Once I got over to his desk, I excused myself and proceeded to make my way by when he stood up to allow me to pass. Holy shit he’s tall. I’m five feet seven inches and that makes me somewhat tall for a girl, but damn he is at least a foot taller than I am. How did he fit in the desk? I got out of my own head in time to reach the door and look back at Mr. Tall and Handsome, who was looking at me too. It would have been so cool if I didn’t turn around, I thought as I pushed through the door heading into the parking lot.

  I turned on the ignition of my Chevrolet Equinox and rolled down all the windows, it was extremely hot and humid for a Fall day. This is Ohio though and we can go from ice storm to heatwave in a span of a day. It makes being a girl with wavy hair a real bitch and getting dressed for the day was impossible. Any advice I’d share with people who want to live here…layers! I was waiting for my air conditioning to blow cold when I saw him walk out of the building. He stood on the steps for a second scanning the area before he fist bumped a member of the Storm’s soccer team. They talked for a few as I sat in my car spying before finally walking towards the Storm Café. Damn! Why can’t I be working today? I really hope he doesn’t play soccer, I really hope he doesn’t play soccer. I kept repeating to myself on my drive to Walmart.

  The next 48 hours were filled with nothing but fantasizing of my own personal Mr. Big. Chris Noth really nailed that role in Sex in the City, hot, gorgeous, able to make a woman squirm. Well little did my Big know, he made me squirm a few times over the past few days and he cost me $4.99 in new batteries. I blushed every time I passed my parents in the kitchen wondering if they heard me masturbating to those tantalizing blue eyes.

  I skipped up the steps to Channing Hall like I enjoyed 8AM classes. I walked through the door and headed to my desk, no Big yet. I took a moment to check myself with my phone’s camera. Hair- on point. Teeth- clean. Cleavage- perky. I am ready for class as I adjust the sweater so that my cami is visible, giving a spectacular view of my boobs, in my opinion, my best asset. I know I should not be looking for a distraction, but it has been quite some time since Josh and I split and well, I’m horny. I don’t mind sex. I even enjoy it, but Josh pushed too hard too early for it and it threw so many red flags that I broke up with him before we ever got that far.

  The professor walked in and made his usual cell phone statement before giving us all a minute to turn them off. I looked down the row and came up empty. Please God, I hope he didn’t drop the class. I pull out my doodling notebook when ten minutes into class, I see someone come through the door and the hair on my arm stands up. “Mr. Grodnowski, nice of you to join us. Please have a seat. Do you need us to wait while you finish your breakfast?” I look left to see Big, pop tart in hand, bags under his eyes, and a fresh new crimson color across his cheeks. He quickly shakes his head and collapses his large frame two seats to my left. He was close enough for me to smell his cologne but far enough that if I look at him it should not be obvious I am having a fatal attraction moment.

  Class went by rather quickly. I spent most of it attempting, with all the willpower I do not possess, not to look down at Big Grodnowski. I’m obsessed now that I know a last name. Does he have a girlfriend? Where is he from? Has he always gone here because I have yet to see him around? As soon as we were released, I decided to make my move. I grabbed my backpack, eloquently swinging it over my shoulder and flashed BG a smile. As I made my way towards the door, I sweetly said, “I’ve had him as a professor before. He is always an ass.” I winked and kept walking secretly wishing I couldn’t be seen crossing my fingers like a schoolgirl with a bad crush.

  “Excuse me?” I hear a deep and oh so panty melting southern accent. Are you fucking kidding me? This will kill me on the spot. “Excuse me?” I hear it again and in hopes that he was talking to me, I turned around slowly to see BG standing behind me. “Hey.” He smiles at me with a beautifully imperfect smile, a slight gap in his front teeth that is so easily overlooked by those damn blue eyes.

  “Hi.” I cock an eyebrow at him curiously. I knew my hands were sweating because it took every bit of strength in my grip not to drop my phone.

  “So, thanks for the heads up.” He tucked his hands in his pockets and rolled himself back on his heels nervously allowing his chest to pop out a little and a damn fine chest it was. It also all
owed me to see that he was wearing a Storm Soccer shirt. Another fucking soccer player? Taryn…run!

  “What? That Dickerson is an ass?” I crack a one-sided smile and adjust my backpack straps. Anything to keep my hands busy.

  “Yeah. I’m Noah.” He removes his hand from his pocket and extends it formally to me.

  “Taryn.” I place my tiny hand in his enormous paw of a hand. Oh, please pull me into your arms and hold me! All six-foot god knows what of you could cage me in like Tarzan.

  “Maybe you would” Noah was interrupted by that stupid soccer player from Monday standing at the end of the hallway.

  “Yo, G, we gotta go man.” Noah turned to look at the dick on two legs interrupting our first conversation that I’ll never be able to tell our grandchildren about because it was fucking interrupted.

  “Be right there.” Noah turned back to me with an apologetic smile on his face.

  “It’s okay. Go.” I smile before turning around adding that accent into my fantasy file. I only took two steps when that big strong hand touched my shoulder.

  “Hey, I’m sorry, I’m fixing to go to practice. Do you have more classes today?” Noah blushed. So damn adorable.

  “I have a night class at 6PM.” I nervously adjusted my backpack again. “Why are you fixing to do something? Why don’t you just do it?” I ask sarcastically earning myself a smile from the Adonis in front of me.

  “It’s a Texas thing. And at least I don’t sound like I am walking around pinching my nose there, Darlin’.” He takes two steps back towards the soccer player waiting on him. “Would you want to eat with me after class?”

  “That’s a weird way to ask a woman out.” I smiled flirtatiously as he shrugs his shoulders, his cheeks pink from embarrassment.

  “I guess I’m not your normal guy.” He took another step back. “Are you going to answer me before I get to the door?” I playfully shrug my shoulders.

  “You are a soccer player?” I ask already knowing the answer yet asking for my own personal pain.

  “Yes.” He kept stepping backwards full smile on his face.

  “Then No.” I flashed a smile, turned around, and finished walking out the door only to be chased down.

  “Wait. No? Simply because I play soccer?” He stood in front of me, blocking my path.

  “Simply because you play soccer.” I smile. Unbeknownst to him, my ex played soccer as well.

  “Reverence Hall holds the night classes. Pick you up at 8?” Noah smiled and I couldn’t deny that I was horny as hell. This is so much better than a Tinder date. I could tell he had confidence, yet the blushing on his cheeks was adorable as hell. This sweater did me proud today.

  “No.” I walk around him taking the opportunity to pat his bicep.

  “See you at 8.” I hear that deep Southern drawl and my lady parts scream out. Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!

  “Okay.” I say over my shoulder with a huge smile only the passerby’s can see.

  “Okay.” Isabelle came busting through the door at the Storm Café tying her apron as she started to fill me in on Noah. “Jensen said he is a transfer from a junior college in Texas. Pre-med. No girlfriend back home or here. He doesn’t want the distraction and he is the Storm’s new striker which is causing tension with Josh.” Jensen is Isabelle’s longtime boyfriend who plays for the Storm’s soccer team and one of my first college friends.

  “So that is disappointing, he doesn’t want a girlfriend which means he must be looking for a booty call.” I smacked her ass and headed up to the counter so that I could take orders for the hungry college co-eds. In moments she was standing next to me, ready to grab the items in their order. “Am I right?” I ask in between orders.

  “No.” She trayed the cheeseburger platter for the girl at the counter. “If he didn’t want to ask you out, he wouldn’t have.” She slid the platter across the counter and handed the girl a fountain drink cup. “He would have flat out asked you for a romp in the sack.”

  “Whatever hoe.” I spat at my snarky BFF. We spent the next hour serving food to half the campus when Isabelle nudges my side, almost knocking me on my ass. “What the fuck?” She points at the door where a very large group of soccer players were entering the building. Walking next to her handsome piece of boyfriend, Jensen was Noah. The guys all looked freshly showered judging from their wet hair and the smell of fresh cologne certainly filled our nostrils.

  “Hey sweetheart.” Jensen leaned over the counter and kissed Izzy really quick. “How’s it going, Taryn? A little frustrated I hear.” Jensen smiles at me and I rolled my eyes earning myself a silly grin from Noah. BG walked around his buddy and up to my station leaning over the counter.

  “So, what else do ya’ll want to know about me?” He lifts his eyebrows at me and I die from embarrassment. “Ya’ll can just ask me.” I felt the heat radiating off my face. I was in hell right now, my own personal hell.

  “I’m dying of embarrassment so unless you want some food, please walk away now.” I pull the bill of my hat down so he can’t see me.

  Lifting the bill of my hat a little, Noah said, “You’re adorable and payback is a bitch. I’d like a chicken tender basket. What kind of coke do you have?” I stared at him with a stupid glare.

  “We don’t have coke here, it is Pepsi.” I point to the fountains. “And what payback?” I lean with both hands onto the counter in front of me.

  “Sorry, In Texas, it is all Coke. I’ll explain later when I pick you up.” I scanned his badge for payment. “See you at 8.” Noah winked before grabbing his food on the counter and going to sit with the team while all the horny co-eds check them out. I have always heard it is usually the football players that get the attention but at this college it is soccer all the way.

  “Oh girl, you got it bad.” Isabelle points out like I am unaware.

  “Yeah, I’m so attracted to him it is ridiculous, Izzy.” I throw my towel at her and head to the back to get some more cups.

  The rest of the afternoon went by at a snail’s pace. I have never been so excited to go to a class in my life because I know when that class is over, I get to go to dinner with my BG. I finished up stocking the front counter for the dinner shift and sat attempting to read for Business Ethics tonight but my thoughts kept going back to those bright blue eyes and that sexy as fuck accent of his. Finally, my replacement showed up and I went to join Izzy in the Commons to attempt to study this shit. I slung my backpack onto the table and set down a tray of fries for us to share.

  “She showed up late again?” Isabelle was writing out notecards for the terminology for tonight’s class. Izzy liked to stay ahead of the game and it usually meant more work for her at the time but in the long run she was overly educated and always prepared.

  “Of course, it is awesome how she is the only one who doesn’t get into trouble.” I slurped down some of the pop I brought from work. I really hate Pepsi but it is carbonated- and free, so I drink it. “Why are you writing doubles?”

  “These are for you hooker.” She slides a pile at me. “You have about twenty more.” She is a godsend.

  I smile at my best friend. “Thanks Izzy. I appreciate you.” I start writing out the remaining terms for tonight’s class. Two hours later, we had finished our flash cards and the outline for the chapter we were assigned last class. We started walking across campus to Reverance Hall when I realized I still had my hair smashed under my hat. “Oh my God. Izzy! My hair!!” I whipped my hat off and started to fluff it head banging style. “Dammit.”

  “Quit freaking the fuck out. I’ll fix it when we get to class.” She shoved at me. “And quit doing that, you are making it frizzy and huge.” I stopped and piled it on my head in hopes that Izzy can work her magic and magic she worked before our professor came in. She is the hair fairy fucking godmother! My hair had a cute inside out, side French braid that led back to a cute knot that she managed to make look amazing with a few waves loose here and there. It was cute yet made it look like I went for the messy lo
ok. As Izzy said, it is the ‘I’m not trying’ look.

  Our class finally ended right at 8PM and the butterflies were in abundance and I was starving. Why do people eat on their first date? I take all-you-can-eat buffets as a personal challenge and I’ll be expected to be this dainty salad eater. Food and a movie, never a good idea. You eat and then you go sit in a quiet movie theatre where you have to hide the awkward belly rumbles and if you don’t like the person you are officially stuck with them for another two hours. “I’m going to meet up with Jensen. You look amazing hun.” Izzy kissed my cheek and skipped off towards her dorm. I took a seat on one of the benches outside Reverence Hall and waited patiently, checking out Facebook and my email and my bank account which is a little on the low side.

  Twenty minutes later, two mosquito bites, and the dew starting to make my things wet, I came to realize I have been stood up. I started the country-mile walk to my car. The campus was lit up pretty at night. The soft glow of the lamp posts was creating a magical mood that I was clearly not ready for as I think about how stupid I was to agree to this. I was about half-way across campus when my phone buzzed in my hand. Izzy texted me.

  I: Hey the boys got stuck at practice

  Me: Wonderful. I’m going home. Do they really practice like ten times a damn day?

  I: J said Noah got held by the coach on the field after being dismissed. Yeah they do based on positions and it’s not always practice. They are required gym time too. Go to the field…it’s not far

  Me: Nah, I’m going home

  I: Bitch- GO! You know their schedules or do you need reminded?

  I smile at her last message and spin on my heels to head towards the Storm’s soccer practice field. On my way to their field I had to walk past the fieldhouse. It is the most lit up path to that area of campus. The football players were all exiting the building from practice. I hear the catcalls as I pass and roll my eyes as the massive ass boys head back towards their dorms. I hear the steps get louder before I turn around. “Yes?” I ask, looking at the hunky football player standing before me. I took a second to check him out because clearly he was doing the same. He was tall, short blonde hair, green eyes, and absolutely familiar.