Free Played by Natasha Stories Page A

kind I'd missed by not having a normal
teen life. When his lips became hungrier, I drew back.
    "Ty, I'm sorry…"
    "No, it's okay. Thanks for comin' out
with me, Miss Janey." He'd gone back to the formal mode of address that
most of the older hands used with us, and it made me sad. I knew it meant he thought
that I felt I was too good for him. Nothing was further from the truth. The
truth was, I wasn't good enough.

CHAPTER SEVEN
    After the long weekend, during which I'd
said nothing of my disastrous one-night stand with my professor, I came back to
school determined to forget about him, keep my head down, study and for fun,
tag along with Rihanna. Somehow, I'd just have to get through the rest of the
semester in Justin's class. After he made me a spectacle a few weeks before the
break, I'd been ignoring him and he'd reciprocated.
    I couldn't help my visceral reaction to his
looks, though. Each time he walked into class with his tousled hair and trim
body clad in slacks and an open-necked button-down shirt, my stomach flipped
and I'd occasionally get uncomfortably moist between my legs. I took to wearing
panty liners to class to counter that.
    On the first day of class after the break,
I sat in my usual spot near the back, wearing comfortable jeans and a plaid
shirt that I'd brought with me from the ranch. I no longer wanted to dress to
attract Justin's or anyone else's attention. It was just my luck, then, that
Justin did notice me among the legging and tunic-clad co-eds around me.
    "Ms. Nielsen, have you been our riding
horses?" he called.
    When I didn't answer, he strode back to
stand close to me. "I believe I asked you a question, Ms. Nielsen."
    "Oh, I thought it was
rhetorical," I answered, refusing to look at him.
    "Not at all."
    "Then, yes, as a matter of fact, I
have." He stood there a moment before returning to the front of the room
with no further comment. Relieved, I opened my textbook and waited for the
lecture to begin. I didn't know what fun he intended to have with my choice of
clothing, but apparently, my answer spiked it.
    Back at the dorm that afternoon, Rihanna
regarded my clothing with horror. "Tell me you didn't go to class in
that," she sputtered.
    "Yes, I did. Why not?" I asked.
    "You look like a…like a hick,"
she said, gesturing at me.
    "So?"
    "So, I'm not gonna let any bestie of
mine go around looking like that. C'mon, you need more clothes."
    Before she was satisfied with my wardrobe, Rihanna
had also added considerably to hers, and we were glad of the car as we returned
to the dorm, laden with bags. Among our purchases were matching red sweaters to
wear to the basketball games for team spirit. Rihanna grumbled that I filled
mine out better than she did hers, but I knew she was teasing. Ri didn't have a
jealous bone in her body, I'd learned in the weeks we'd been rooming together.
She was more likely to want to match make than keep a boy to herself.
    We were going to miss the next game,
though, so our sweater purchase was premature. It was the first away game
they'd played, and it was in Boise on Tuesday. Too far, we agreed, for us to
make the trip on a weeknight.
    I was really beginning to enjoy the game,
and had three besides the exhibition game under my belt when we broke for
Thanksgiving. I also looked forward to seeing Drew on game nights. He was just
as much eye-candy as Justin was, but was safe because he was Ri's friend. I was
looking forward to Saturday, when once again the team would be playing at home.
It kept the week from dragging now that I wasn't enjoying my classes as much,
especially English. I was barely struggling through math, fearful that I
wouldn't pass it and would have to take it again since it was a requisite.
    On Saturday, Rihanna and I dressed alike in
our red sweaters, black wool-blend pants that clung to our legs, and knee-high
boots. Red had never been my color, but Ri looked spectacular, her glossy dark
hair straying across her shoulders and green eyes sparkling.
    "You