Dream With Me (With Me Book 4) Read Free

while we both have double majors (Business for me and Library Sciences for him), we share the same English advisor. Since freshman year, we’ve also had at least one class together. One unlucky semester, we had the same exact schedule. Needless to say, I’ve had to look at Griff’s no-nonsense, grouchy face for far longer than I’ve liked.
    And sure, Griff might be considered handsome if one happens to like the tall, dark-haired, dark-eyed guy who doesn’t say much. He’s built, but not in the gym rat, steroid abuser kind of way. Natural-looking with all those big, hard muscles that so many girls go crazy over.
    Me? Nope. Not interested.
    Sure, maybe there was a time when I thought he was hot and sexy. But it didn’t last long. Especially not after he insulted me and hurt my feelings. That combination killed any attraction I might have felt.
    It’s shocking to see Griff dressed up. He’s usually in jeans and T-shirt, the standard college guy fare. He’s not super fancy, but he’s also not in casual day to day wear. He’s wearing nice black pants and a collared hunter-green shirt. Our colors almost match—my dark green halter dress flares out. We look like we planned it.
    I glance behind him to see that the parking lot has emptied, leaving us alone. Well, shoot. I’ll have to call for a new taxi. Except my cell is charging back at my apartment, so I’ll have to ask Griff if I can borrow his.
    Griff and I barely say one word to each other if we can help it. But he hardly talks to anyone, so it’s surprising when he clears his throat and takes a step closer.
    “You missed it, too?” he asks.
    “Yeah.” I feel foolish, standing there in my bare feet, with all my things scattered about. My gaze flicks to the dock and Griff follows the movement. At the same time, we bend and reach for one of my discarded shoes.
    Our hands collide.
    It feels like I’ve just had a million static shocks. A distinct hum vibrates in every single nerve. My blood sings with awareness.
    I cannot freaking believe this.
    And from Griff’s widened dark eyes, neither can he.
    I shouldn’t do this. I know I shouldn’t.
    But . . .
    “It’s probably a fluke,” I say.
    I touch his hand again.
    I jerk my hand back, cradling it to my chest. It’s the wrong move to make.
    I can still feel him .
    And now the feel of Griff is burning through my dress straight into my pounding heart. I jump to my feet, needing distance . . . I don’t even like Griff. Why would there be any chemistry of the I-want-to-jump-your-bones kind? I don’t understand it.
    It has to be a mistake.
    It has to be.
    And it doesn’t escape my notice that Griff Sinclair has not said one word about . . . this.
    Whatever this is.
    Typical of him. I shouldn’t be surprised by his silence. And I shouldn’t be feeling this way about a guy who has made it very clear years ago that he didn’t like me.
    I turn my back on Griff and face Lake Champlain. The water is calm and gentle, so completely at odds with how I’m feeling. When I glance up, the skies are clear. There are no storms on the horizon, no hidden currents of electricity that can explain away the shock of awareness.
    Maybe I’m reading too much into it. Maybe I’m the only one who felt anything. The whole day has been off. And other than Griff’s widened eyes, there was no other sign he felt anything.
    Maybe it was nothing.
    His hand curves over my bared right shoulder, his fingers settling onto my skin. His thumb skims my exposed shoulder blade, tracing the hard line of it.
    My breath catches in my throat. And I stop thinking about why there shouldn’t be any attraction between us—how I should pull away and get my head back on straight . . . how I should forget everything. I know what the sensible thing is.
    I know what I should do.
    But another part of me—that part that always gets me in trouble—is telling me to stay. To not be sensible. To see what happens.
    Griff reaches the line of my