“No, that’s my brother. He lives off campus. I’m very single and ready to mingle. You?”

Brother. No shit. At least I won’t have to worry about running into that major distraction on a daily basis. I wonder if all the guys in Alabama are good-looking. The first two I cross paths with have me actually contemplating dating—and I don’t date. Ever. “Single and not looking to mingle,” I reply.

“Why the hell not? It’s college, Sophie. You only get to do this once.”

“My schedule doesn’t leave time for dating. I have to stay focused, or I’ll lose my spot on the team.”

“When does practice start?” she asks.

“First thing in the morning, why?” I’m finally dressed and can hang up my towels to dry.

“Then tonight you’re all mine! We’re going out to find us some cowboys!” She’s beaming with excitement and bouncing up and down. Her excitement is so contagious; I almost start jumping along with her.

“I’m not sure cowboys are my type, Cara.” I laugh at the look of shock on her face. Apparently, I need to enroll in Cowboy 101 first thing in the morning.

“Sophie, this is Alabama. You aren’t going to find much else, but tell me what you want and we can make it happen.”

Even though I don’t date, I’m not dead. There are a few qualities I’d want my man to have if I ever decide to have one again. “I still don’t have time to date so it doesn’t matter, but I guess a southern gentleman who enjoys physical things.”

“What guy doesn’t like sex?” She looks truly perplexed by my request.

“Not sex, Cara. Sports.” She has a one track mind. Sex and boys.

“Oh. Well that can be arranged. So, a country jock then? It’s totally doable. But no meatheads.” She points to her temple. “There has to be something between the ears or you’ll get bored.”

“Okay. A jock with brains it is.” See, I’m easy to live with. Already compromising with my new roommate on the first day of living together.

“I knew you had it in you, Sophie.”

Now that we have my man preference squared away, we start rearranging the furniture into the perfect formation that has Cara as far away from the window as possible so she can sleep in. Since I’m up for practice before the birds and exhausted at the end of the night, I’m fine sleeping wherever my body falls.

The loud bang against our door has both Cara and I jumping in surprise. I forgot to open it back up when I finished getting changed. Rushing over, I pull the door open for Cara’s brother. “Sorry, here let me help you with some of that.” I take a few shopping bags dangling from his index finger. When I pull them off, I can’t help but notice his strong forearms straining under the weight of the boxes he’s carrying.

“Can I come in? This is heavy,” he asks, while I continue ogling his arms.

“Sorry.” I quickly step aside and let him in the room. He drops the boxes in the middle of the room with a thud. Before I can guide him to his sister’s side of the room, he flops down on my bed of all places. He’s exhausted, so I keep my mouth shut.

“Is that the last of it, Kip?” Cara saunters over to the pile of boxes and starts pulling items out while I’m still stuck in my spot next to the door unsure of where I should look let alone sit. With him sprawled out on my mattress my thoughts are quickly headed to dirty places.

“Yeah. That’s it. It’s too damn hot for this shit,” he grumbles.

Shyly, I open our mini-fridge and take out a cold bottle of water. “Um, here.” I push the bottle out in front of me, waiting for him to take it. He’s seen me in a towel and I don’t even know his real name. Cara has called him both Kippy and Kip, but they’re obviously nicknames.

He lazily opens his eyes and accepts the water with a smile. “Thanks.”

I turn away from him quickly. It makes me too nervous to look directly into his eyes. “You’re welcome.” I start busying myself re-organizing the books, folders and office products on my desk shelf to avoid any awkward conversation. When I can’t fake unpacking any longer, I sit down on my desk chair, glancing at him quickly before turning my attention back to Cara. Watching her unpack, I pray she starts rambling as she does best. The silence is stifling.

From my peripheral vision, I notice him shifting his head on my pillow. His eyes are burning a hole into the side of my head as the seconds tick by. Not able to remain silent anymore, I open my mouth. “What?” I question.

“Nothing. I’m wondering what your name is though,” he says with a cocky grin on his face. He’s enjoying my uneasiness.

“Oh. It’s Sophie.”

He smiles, giving nothing away in return. “I knew it’d be something sweet.”

“It’s on the door.” It’s on the door? How lame can I possibly be? The welcome signs on the doors are cute, but feel more like a nametag you’d see on your desk in elementary school.

“I saw it, but I wanted to hear you say it.”

Oh. “What’s yours?” Could this be any more embarrassing of a conversation?

Cara drops her pile of clothes. “I’m so sorry. I totally dropped the ball on the introductions, didn’t I? Sophie this is my brother, Kipton. Kipton, my awesome roomie, Sophie.”

“Better late than never, Cara,” Kipton jokes. “We were getting there on our own though.”

I blush at his words. Yeah, it’s a damn good thing he lives off campus. I can usually hold my own with guys, having had to protect myself for years while my mom was working all kinds of crazy hours. Despite that, the unfamiliar tickles in my stomach combined with the sudden inability to process a rational thought is foreign to me. If it was socially acceptable to climb inside my closet right now I would.

“What’s your major, Sophie?” Kipton asks. He crosses his arms underneath his head and the movement causes his shirt to ride up the slightest bit. It’s far enough to showcase some seriously toned abs. One peek wasn’t enough, so I chance another glance. He catches me.

“Um. Kinesiology. I want to be a coach and an athletic trainer eventually.” I fiddle with the frayed edge of my denim shorts, again not looking at him while I’m speaking. His eyes are on me, though. My pulse is well aware.

“No shit. A chick into sports instead of shopping. It’s about damn time.”

“Kippy, play nice. There’s nothing wrong with shopping. I’m very good at it,” Cara says sarcastically. From the piles of clothing she’s putting away, I’d say she’s an expert. With my limited budget, I typically buy a few pieces and then mix and match to make as many outfits as possible. I’d like to consider myself a fashion chameleon, camouflaging my wardrobe to fit my mood.

“You’re a pro, Cara. I’ve seen you in action.”

I laugh at his honesty. They have a dynamic I’d love to have with a sibling. Being an only child can be very lonely. While my friends always complained about their brothers picking on them, I’d always wished I had someone to connect with besides my mom.

“So what do you want to coach?” he asks.

He’s staring at me again and it’s hard to focus with his gorgeous body on display. When I wrap my blankets around me tonight, it’ll be hard not to picture him exactly as he is right now. “Huh?”

“Coach. You said a trainer and a coach.”

“I want to run my own gym someday. I’m a gymnast.”

Kipton closes his eyes and moans, “Jesus. You’re getting hotter and hotter. Keep talking.”

I laugh and see him smiling. He’s looking up at the ceiling with his hands behind his head, waiting for me to continue explaining. But I want to be lying next to him—my bed never looked as inviting as it does in this moment.

“Sophie, he’s a wrestler. You’re speaking his language right now. He spends a lot of time working out too,” Cara chimes in.

“A real wrestler or a fake one?” I scrunch my nose at the thought of him standing in a ring pretending to be a testosterone fueled maniac. I understand it’s a production and its purpose is for entertainment and shock value, but it’s not the same.