Before I could stop it, a loud laugh jumped out of my throat at the sweet, proper voice cussing. She paused, frozen, as she heard me behind her.

Her head bowed, her shoulders bunched, and the sigh she let out said it all-pure defeat. Hell, I knew how she felt.

I reached down and scooped up her glasses, then, holding her arm, spun her to face me.

Jesus. H. Christ.

Large brown eyes, full, juicy pink lips, smooth, clear skin, and a soft blush to her cheeks. She was so close I could smell her skin-sweet, like vanilla.

Damn, I needed to say something, anything, not just stand here like some creepy fucking weirdo.

"Can you see now?" I muttered, my voice sounding rough even to me.

Her eyes squinted and she looked up. Her lips parted, her eyes studying every part of my face from behind the huge frames. Brown eyes, long blond hair, tanned skin-I had the perfect outer shell, but one fucking bitter center.

I tensed, waiting for it to come, the moment she saw it was me-Rome "Bullet" Prince. The attention would piss me off and then I'd come off like an asshole.

Golden brown eyes drank me in-the usual-and then... nothing.

Snatching the papers from my hands, the chick tried to take off. No stuttered recognition, no flirting, just... rushing to get the hell away from me.

What the- I wondered for a moment if she didn't know who I was. But... nah, we were in Bama. She was at UA. Every fucker knew my face, whether I liked it or not.

Without realizing it, I took hold of her wrist. "Y'okay?"

She didn't look up but politely muttered, "I'm fine."

Negative.

Still no eye contact.

Still no recognition.

"You sure?" I asked again-absolutely no idea why.

I saw it in her shoulders: she was done with the day. Her long, black lashes fluttered on her cheeks before her caramel eyes fixed on mine. The wind knocked right out of my chest, and I couldn't seem to move.

"You ever have one of those days where everything turns into a bloody nightmare?" she asked tiredly.

English. Not English like the queen, though. Her accent had a lilt to it that I couldn't place. Christ, but it was hot.

"Having one myself, actually."

Her tight eyes softened and she sighed. "Then that makes two of us." Full lips crooked into a smile.

My heart did something it never had before.

It felt.

It felt something... indescribable. Each subsequent beat seemed louder and heavier than ever before and I started freaking the hell out.

"Thank you for stopping to help me. It was very nice of you," she said politely, the sentiment snapping me right back to reality.

Nice? Don't think so.

Her eyes measured me, waiting patiently for a response.

"Nice. Not normally what people say when they're talking about me," I said, finally seeing sense. What the fuck was going on?

I watched as her lips parted slightly, sucking in a sharp, shocked breath. I had to get the hell out of here, away from her, and stop acting like some damn dumbstruck pussy. Hell, I was acting like Reece.

I walked off without looking back, realizing that was the longest damn conversation I'd had with anyone in a long time, and it didn't involve anything about being the shitting oil prince of Bama or the next big football star. There was something different about her, something... intriguing. Like she didn't give a shit what anyone thought of her, wasn't caught up in the football hype. Her outfit and her reaction to me were proof of that. It was... refreshing, if not a little strange.

Almost as if I watched from a detached body, my boots abruptly ground to a halt and I looked over my shoulder. Brit girl was still standing on the same spot, still looking in my direction. "I'm Rome," I offered, almost involuntarily, the words spilling out of my mouth as her eyes met mine.

Her long lashes fluttered down, touching the lenses of her glasses, and when they lifted, a shy smile transformed her face. "Molly."

I nodded and licked my lips, roved my gaze down her body, then made my way to class.

"Rome Prince, I take it?" the stuffy new philosophy professor said with a raised gray eyebrow as I sauntered into the classroom, nodding a silent greeting and making my way to my seat on the back row. She'd no doubt been briefed; teachers knew the score when football was in season. Of course, those from outside the States never quite got their heads around the fact that we, the players, got special permission to miss classes when on away games, or could rock up late after practice with no repercussions.

Climbing the steps slowly, I avoided Shelly's laser-beam attention until it was no longer an option. I slipped into my usual seat beside her, her snake arm sliding over my thigh as soon as my ass hit the wooden seat. Ally, my cousin, who I normally sat next to in class, couldn't make it today, leaving me all alone with Shelly.

Perfect.

"Hey, Rome," she said, all breathy, trying her best to be seductive. Shelly, to most of the male student body, was hot, but I knew the girl underneath, the one with all the personality of a gnat.

"Shel," I answered flatly, not reacting to any of her strokes and caresses. My jaw ached from clenching it in annoyance.

A huge bang sounded, drawing my attention, and the door to the classroom suddenly burst open. Molly fell through, still doing a shit job of balancing all her papers. The whole class zeroed in on her awkwardness.

Straightening up and blowing her crazy hair from her eyes, she pushed her thick glasses back on her nose, flushed bright red, and began sidestepping toward the professor, her back almost pressed flat against the wall as she grimaced in embarrassment. She looked so goddamn cute all flustered, shuffling across the length of the whiteboard.

I snickered involuntarily, feeling my heart speed up again as she put down her papers and stood beside the professor, fidgeting on the spot.

"What's with this girl?" Shelly snarled under her breath, nudging her best friend Tanya beside her. I stiffened, feeling my blood rush through my ears. Shelly turned to me. "And did you just laugh?" Her mouth gaped open. I shrugged without answering.

"Didn't think anyone dressed like that once outta kindergarten," Tanya bitched.

Shelly leaned in closer to me, the smell of her strong perfume almost making me gag. She had me in her trap, but there was no point in throwing her off. She had my folks on her side, and if I wanted to get through this year without too much of their shit, I needed to stay way under their radar and not do anything to rock the boat... then crush the selfish fuckers when I got my draft ticket out of here and squashed all their fascist, money-grabbing plans.

The professor asked Molly to introduce herself. I watched, fascinated, as the clumsy, geeky girl transformed as she spoke: back straighter, chin higher, eyes brighter and brimming with confidence.

I sat back and listened intently to every word she said.

She was smart, really fucking smart, and this class' new teaching assistant. Young, English, and already on her master's, with a goal of becoming a professor in philosophy. And to top it all off, she was in Bama to help the professor write an academic paper. Shit. She put all the undecided fuckers I knew to shame.

"So, Rome, are you coming tonight-" Shelly tried to speak to me, not listening to the introduction taking place, but I shushed her. I needed to hear Molly. For some reason, I wanted to hear her speak again, wanted to know her deal.

That didn't stop Shelly, though, and her hand skimmed over my stomach, her lips closing in on my ear. "I said are you coming tonight?! I-"

Whipping toward her, my face pulled into a hard expression, and I spat out quietly, "And I said shut the fuck up! I won't tell you again." Her beady blue eyes narrowed. She glared at Molly, then back to me, repeating the friggin' routine a few more times, and I saw the moment she realized the newbie Brit had caught my attention.

Molly was still speaking. I shifted my focus back to her and ignored Shelly's fury building beside me.

"I have loved religious philosophy for as long as I can remember, and I'm happy to be here to help Professor Ross in the lectures and seminars and to try and make the wonderful world of philosophy just that little bit more interesting!"

Shelly's long nails began to dig into the arm of her chair as Molly spoke easily to the class. Her top lip curled and I just knew she was about to go into full-on bitch mode.

"I'll be happy to answer any questions about-"

"I have one," Shelly snapped, interrupting Molly's speech. The whole class glanced toward her as she smiled an ugly, smug smile. I watched as Molly's eyes searched the crowd and widened slightly when they landed on Shelly... and the placement of her hand near my crotch.

Jesus.

"Don't," I warned for Shelly's ears only, removing her hand, but she ignored me.

"Why the hell would you want to be a professor in philosophy? Don't you think it's a bit of a waste of your life?"

Molly was unfazed and simply replied, "Why not philosophy? Everything in life, on Earth, can be questioned-why, how, how can that be? To me, the mystery of life and the universe is inspiring, the vastness of unanswered questions floors me, and I love immersing myself in the academic journey of scholars both ancient and new."

Tanya snorted. Shelly laughed mockingly. "How old are you, honey?"

"Erm... twenty," Molly said, a red flush quickly covering her face.

"Twenty! And you're already on your master's?"

"Well, yes. I went to university a year young. I tested out of high school early."

"Damn, girl, you need to stop being so damn serious and learn to live a little. Life's not all about studying. It's about having fun. Lighten the hell up!"

The blood in my veins cooled to ice. I was about to say something to shut Shelly the hell up, when she added, "I swear, I'll never understand girls like you."

I snapped my attention to Molly, who had moved from her lectern and placed her hands on her hips. A smile tugged at my mouth again as she stood there, fiercely getting ready to take on the megabitch of Bama.

"Girls like me?" she asked coldly.

She was one pissed-off Mary Poppins. I found myself liking her even more. She had spunk, was ready to fight for what she believed in.

"Bookworms, nerds... wannabe professors!" Shelly drawled. I was sure she still thought she was back in high school, only able to make herself feel better by picking on a new girl. Pathetic.

"Studying and knowledge, I believe, gives a person power, not money or status or what designer you wear," Molly answered coolly, but I could see the fire in her golden eyes even through those fuck-off thick lenses.

"Really? You actually believe that?" Shelly asked, sounding less confident now.

"Of course I do. Opening your mind to unknown possibilities and learning how other cultures function, what they believe, gives people a richer, more holistic understanding of the human condition. Philosophy offers answers to an array of questions.

"For example, why do some people coast through life with ease, devoid of all compassion for others, whilst others-good, caring, and honest humans-are dealt blow after blow but somehow find the inner strength to carry on? Don't you think if more people took the time to be conscientious to mankind's troubles, then maybe the world would be a better place?"

I'd never heard anything like it. It was like she was profiling me. Everyone thinks if you're from the richest family in Alabama and you can throw a ball to rival Peyton Manning, then you're golden, no fucking worries in life. But then no one knows about them, about what I grew up with, about what I still go through every day, and no one knows because they wouldn't understand. But for a brief second, I entertained the notion that maybe she would. She sounded like she spoke from a place of knowledge, from personal pain. I'd come to find that only others in similar situations could pick that out in someone else, like there was some kind of hidden signal that they were in a whole load of hurt too.

"That is why I study over getting drunk every night. The world deserves to have people who think of others before themselves, that strive to be less selfish and superficially concerned." I took in her whole package from head to toe-perfect tight-but-curvy body, smooth, lightly tanned skin, face brightened by the argument-and I quickly decided she was kind of fucking hot under all that... wrong.

"I hope that offers you some insight to why I want to be a professor. It's who I am and I'm very proud of that fact."

I quickly looked at Shelly, who was rooted to her seat. Sure, she may have looks and money, but she sure as hell didn't have a high IQ; in fact, I'm pretty sure a sea urchin had more intelligence than she did. I knew I was an ass, but seeing her sitting there squirming, witnessing this fashion-challenged brunette bring down a Bama titan, made my entire fucking day.

Before I could stop myself, I quipped loudly, "Fuck! That told you, Shelly! Schooled!"

A pissed-off gasp sounded beside me, but I couldn't pull my gaze from the British brunette to even spare Shelly a glance. Molly stared back at me and her lips moulded into a satisfied smirk. My cock hardened. I'd actually made her happy.

Fuck.

"Whatever! Good luck fitting in around here acting like that!" Shelly snapped moodily. I knew I'd probably just made things worse, but seeing her belittled, when she did it so regularly to everyone else, meant I really didn't give a shit.

The professor whispered something to Molly, and I zoned out as I watched her react to the professor's words. Unintentionally, Molly'd gotten my attention, and Christ, if I didn't feel like a stalker, eyes glued to her making her way down each row, handing out those bastard papers that only minutes prior were scattered all over the hallway floor.

Shelly staked her claim, almost straddling my thighs, as Molly approached our row. I missed if Shelly said anything to her at first. I was too busy trying to get a read of the new girl, absolutely wrapped up in the things she'd just said. That was until Shelly snapped, "Nice shoes, Molly. Do all future philosophy professors have such fantastic taste in fashion?"

I heard that slight loud and clear and decided that was it. I threw Shelly's legs off mine-counting her lucky that I didn't throw her right across the room-and hissed, "Quit it, Shel. Why do you have to be such a fuckin' bitch all the time?" The other students didn't dare meet my eyes. It was the only time I was glad I was a moody, scary fucker that no one dared mess with.

Molly's feet shifted from side to side, and she looked everywhere but at me. She was mortified and clearly wanted to split.

I needed something from her first. I needed to know if she believed everything she said or if it was just some regurgitated academic shit for the sake of impressing her new class.

Her eyes fluttered to mine again and I breathed deep, asking, "You really believe what you said just now?"

She frowned as though it were a stupid question. "Which part?"

I felt Shelly and her Barbies listen in, but I needed to know, something in me really needed to know. "About life being unfair. About philosophy giving answers to why some people get dealt shit and others don't."

Determined eyes met mine, leaving absolutely no room for doubt, and she replied, "Vehemently." And that was it. A wash of something soothing seemed to settle in my chest and yeah, it may sound soft, but it was the first time I felt like I could breathe in years. She knew pain too. She'd been through shit too. Someone could relate.

Molly turned to run to her desk and the class was dismissed. As I grabbed my bag off the floor, Shelly grasped my arm. "Rome, don't forget about the initiation tonight. Your brothers are part of the task. Come too, okay?"

"Don't count on it," I said in response. I could feel Shelly's hard stare as I sat in my seat, completely lost in my thoughts. I couldn't move, too busy reflecting on the things Molly had said. Why do some people coast through life... whilst others are dealt blow after blow? As the room began to clear, I snapped out of my daze and quickly left.

The minute I exited the classroom, two arms snaked around my neck and I groaned. "Shel, fuck off!"

As I turned around, a pair of red, pouting lips protruded and large hazel eyes tightened. "Not Shel, Bullet!"

I sighed as I was pushed aggressively against the wall. "Caroline," I greeted tightly as she rubbed up all she had against my cock. I ignored the watching students walking past, and no doubt Shelly too, which I actually decided would be a good thing. It'd piss her off, maybe get her to back off for a while.

"Come back to my dorm," Caroline said seductively, her sharp nails slipping under my shirt and digging into the skin-she was one kinky bitch. I gritted my teeth at the pain and her eyes lit with arousal. She leaned in, right to my ear, and murmured, "I've been dreaming about your cock in my mouth all week."

Christ. I shut my eyes for a second, debating whether or not I could actually do this new change in lifestyle I'd set for myself, but I pushed her off, deciding to stick to my original plan. For the first time ever, Caroline and her wonder mouth held absolutely zero appeal. Time to put my plan into action-a cull on all distractions. She was getting too clingy anyhow.

Meeting Caroline's hungry eyes, I stated, "Not happening. In fact, I'm cutting you out for good. Go suck someone else's junk. I don't want it no more."