The Dixon Rule (Campus Diaries, #2)

by Elle Kennedy

Diana and I have a love-hate relationship. As in, she hates me, and I love to annoy her.

Diana doesn’t like me. But I’m not averse to confrontation, and for some reason, her dislike only makes me want to bother her even more. It’s the preschooler in me. All men regress to their kindergarten days every now and then.

If someone wants to be in a relationship with you, they will. They won’t string you along. They won’t hit you up in the middle of the night for sex. They won’t feed you endless excuses about how they’re “not cut out for relationships” or how “you deserve so much better.” They would be with you, plain and simple.

RYDER: Me personally? Fuck no. But lemme ask the wife. If she wants to go, I’ll go. BECKETT: Wow. RYDER: Wow what? BECKETT: That woman owns you now. You realize that, right, mate? RYDER: Yes and?

Although I suppose if my wife were Gigi Graham, I’d gladly let her handle my balls.

I kissed Shane last night as a dare in a game. It was the worst experience of my life and I ask for privacy during this time of great shame and suffering.

“On that note, you can leave now. I have a margarita to drink and four episodes of Fling or Forever to catch up on.” “Cool. Wanna order a pizza? I’ll grab some beer from my apartment.” I stare at him. “I didn’t invite you.” “Oh, I invited myself. Was that not clear?”

“Later, Dixon.” “Thanks for the ride, Daddy.” “Don’t turn me on this early in the morning, please.”

“I told them I had a girlfriend.” I start to laugh. “This is the greatest day of my life.” “Oh, it gets better, Dixon. I told them it was you.”

“Be my girlfriend, Diana!” he growls. “Please.” He called me Diana. And he said please. This must be dire.

“Oh, shit, I forgot to tell you. I actually screen all of my friends with benefits very, very carefully. There’s a whole application process.” Shane plays along. “Oh, is there. May I have a copy of the application?”

I can honestly say that Drunk Shane might be my favorite Shane.

Confession: doing this with Diana is fun. She’s an endless well of gusto. A bundle of energy.

And another confession: I like to dance.

“He asked me, as a friend, to have dinner with him tonight. It’s not a date, and I am the most loyal fake girlfriend you will ever have. I fake love you, Shane. I want to fake marry you and have your fake babies. Okay?” I glare at her. “Uncalled for. I can’t believe you brought our fake children into this.”

He sounds noncommittal. Typical guy. Yes, let’s keep everything bottled up instead. That’s always a splendid idea.

“That was the best fake sex I’ve ever had,” I tell her, and she laughs even harder.

“No man is allowed to touch you but me, Dixon.” His voice is low. Thick with desire. “And if one tries, I’ll rip his fucking hands off.”

“Yeah, ’cause he’s obnoxious. That hasn’t changed.” “Exactly. That hasn’t changed. So what’s different now?” “His dick,” I confess. “I’ve fallen into his dicksand.” Will nods solemnly. “I’m sorry.”

“And one more thing,” Shane says, tugging on my hand before I can leave. “You are unstoppable. Don’t let what this one asshole did convince you that you’re anything other than unstoppable. You’re Diana Dixon, for chrissake.”

“I CAN SEE YOUR BULGE, LINDLEY!” Jordan Trager’s voice breaks the silence, and I wish murder were legal in Massachusetts because I’d kill him if I could.

I’m proud of Diana, who throws herself wholeheartedly into her projects. She told me last night that her next goal is to learn Spanish, and there’s zero doubt in my mind that she’ll be fluent by the end of the year. She’s that kind of person. Pure dedication. I can’t believe I ever thought she was just a flighty cheerleader. I was so wrong about this woman.

The moment she steps into them, her towel falls to the floor. I snicker and peer down. “Oh. The seduction has started?” She snorts. “I’m not seducing you. But…now that I’m naked…I guess you can atone for tonight’s sins and give me an orgasm.” Chuckling, I pick up her naked body, walk to the kitchen counter, and set her ass down on it. “I shall begin my atonement.”

“You could always find yourself a sweet little wife who will be fine doing it all herself.” “I don’t want a sweet little wife.” He kisses my shoulder. “I want a sassy bitch.” I snicker. “Did you just call me a bitch?” “Mmm-hmmm.”

“Do we have to talk about this right now? I want to come,” she whines, twisting her head to kiss my neck. I gently roll her onto her back. “Fine. I’ll pretend I’m stirring soup. But only if I can grind against your leg and come in my pants.” “You’re so romantic. Stop being so romantic.”