U of M Series: The Chemistry Poet

Chapter 7: Sawyer

I didn't know what the hell I did last time I saw her, but I'd pissed Kitty off apparently. I thought she had wanted me to stay for another beer. The small smile I saw on her lips after telling her I'd have one more before she turned away seemed like it. I'd even thought about asking her out for a date. Never got the chance though, she brushed me off quicker than my slap shot. All weekend I thought of coming up with an excuse to text her, but I never did.

When I walk in the lecture hall this morning though, my eyes find her immediately. She's so engrossed in her notebook, she's completely oblivious to everything around her. Her black wavy hair spills over her face. Her long toned legs, crossed at the ankle in front of her. I like her in lecture. She can wear shorts and her hair down. But I'd be lying if she didn't look just as hot covered up with a lab coat, goggles, and a pony tail. I'm sure she's saving the seat for the David fuck-wad, but I don't care. So I sit next to her.

She doesn't even glance up. Which gives me a moment to gawk at her unabashedly. She bites the corner of her bottom lip. So. Fucking. Sexy. It isn't just sexy she bites her lip—no, girls do it all the time thinking they look hot. She does it because she's concentrating so hard and doesn't know how gorgeous she looks doing it. It's natural, unintentional.

Damn. She color codes her notes. Adorable.

I can't but mess up her tidy, little world. So I steal a highlighter from her hand for absolutely no reason other than to engage with her. 

Then she almost has a panic attack over me not taking notes, cute little kitty-cat. I squeeze her thigh to calm her, but I didn't know how much it'd affect me. The feel of her smooth skin under my fingertips. Fuck.

After the first contact, I become addicted. I keep 'accidentally' touching her. My arm brushes hers while trying to share the arm rest. My leg presses against hers when I get comfy trying to use the tiny desk to write something down on the paper and pen she not-so-subtly handed me. 

Eventually, embarrassingly, I do the yawn stretch thing like I'm in fucking middle school and stretch my arm out on the back of her chair. I finger the silky strands of her hair. She either didn't notice or didn't mind.

By the end of class, whatever I did the night before, had been forgiven apparently. Nonetheless, as we walk out, she surprises me by asking me about hockey.

"So when is your first game?"

"Friday. I'm excited. Our team is looking good in scrimmage games."

We stop in the hallway. "Oh yeah?" She asks hesitantly, like she's unsure what to say. Clearly sports talk doesn't come as easily to her as chemistry. "You score any... points?"

I grin. Normally, I had puck bunnies trying to impress me with their knowledge of the sport, but her lack of knowledge when she's so fucking intelligent in general is damn cute. Pair that with her genuine interest, I'm a goner. I tug a strand of her hair. "It's called a goal, Kitty. And hell yeah I've scored some."

Standing in the hallway, I can take all of her in. Short shorts and green tank top that brings out her eyes. Low enough to admire her cleavage. Is she wearing the damn lacy blue bra again? I'm enamored.

Now is your chance to ask her out. "Hey Piper, I was wondering if you'd like to—"

"Sawyer," says a leggy blonde holding two coffees. 

Brooke. My on again off again... something. I guess she's the closest thing I've had to a girlfriend my past four years here. Although we've never been too serious or had titles, yet we always go back to each other. Creature of habit and all that. 

She thrusts a coffee my way. "Your favorite, almond milk cappuccino." 

I don't take it immediately. Apparently, she wants to be on again. 

Noticing my hesitation she adds, "I've missed you."

I glance back at Kitty whose smile has disappeared. "Give me a sec, Brooke. Piper—"

She's backing away. "I'll see you in lab tomorrow," she calls as she flees. Maybe I should call her cheetah with how fast she can walk away.

I face Brooke and accept the coffee. Not going to turn down a perfectly good cappuccino, after all. How she always knows my schedule when I haven't told her, I'll never know.

"You're looking good on the ice."

We have the rink open during practice, so there often times people in the stands—girlfriends, parents, local high school players. Of course Brooke watches practices, she is a puck bunny. 

"Thanks," I reply without a note of enthusiasm.

She rubs her hand on my bicep and steps in close. "You didn't say you miss me too."

"Listen Brooke, I appreciate the coffee, but I'm not interested in rekindling things."

Her cheeks redden. "Oh. I heard you and Jessica ended things."

"We did."

"Then what's the problem?"

"It's just..." Sure, I could go for a few quick lays. No strings or attachments. It's always easy with Brooke until one of us slowly stops calling or texting the other. She didn't quite have the usual allure she always had though. I peer back in the hallway seeing if I can still spot Piper.

Brooke follows my line of sight. "Oh. I didn't know you were seeing anyone new."

"No. I'm not. I mean it's not like that," I sputter. "I mean she's my lab partner. Sure she's pretty, but she's a chem whiz. I'm trying to focus on this year and I don't have time for—"

Brooke smiles with a sparkle in her blue eyes. "Wow, I never thought I'd see the day. A girl who scrambles Sawyer Daniels's thoughts."

"It's not like that. She only tolerates me at best on a good day."

"Ah. That must be the allure then. Men. Always want what they can't have."