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can’t party hard in season, but I like to show my face once in a while.”
    Sam glanced out at the dance floor. Rita was grinding one out with a drunken frat boy who looked like he had multiple sets of hands.
    “Social—?” she drawled. “That what they call this?”
    “Is she your friend?” Chris asked, watching Rita as she threw her head back and laughed hard, arm looped around the frat boy’s shoulders. There was no way that guy was that funny, so Sam figured all the tequila had finally caught up to her.
    “Unfortunately,” Sam admitted, sheepish. “I’m not sure if she’s dancing or trying to get laid.”
    “Probably a bit of both?” Chris replied. “Either way, it’s not a bad way to start the year, is it?” he added with a grin, that hopeful look back in his eyes.
    Sam considered him with a wry smile. “I’ll give you points for boldness and optimism, Chris. But that’s about it.”
    “So you won’t dance with me?”
    “I don’t make a habit of dating classmates, sorry.”
    “Word is you don’t make a habit of dating anybody,” he replied. “And it’s just a dance besides.”
    Sam’s brows rose. “Been checking up on me, Chris?”
    “You’re the one who knew I was a football player.”
    “Have you looked at yourself in the mirror?” she taunted. “What the hell else would you be?”
    “Stereotype much?” he replied, though he looked more amused than put off.
    “Is it a stereotype if it’s true?” she countered. “Besides, you’re not the only one I’ve paid attention to in that class.”
    Chris’s brow lifted. “So I do have competition.”
    “Maybe.” She shrugged, smiling.
    “Tell me the name of this other guy, and I’ll tackle him so hard, he’ll never get up again,” Chris joked, playfully smashing his fist into his other hand.
    “No one in particular—I’ve just been paying attention,” she shrugged. “Are you aware that most of our projects this year will be in groups? I figure I might as well know who’s who if my classmates are going to have a hand in determining my grade.”
    “And you don’t want to partner with me because you think I’m a dumb jock?” he guessed.
    “No,” Sam shook her head. “That would be an unfair stereotype. You have a high GPA from what I’ve heard. It’s just that if I do decide to partner with you on a project, I don’t want you focused on my chest instead of my mind.”
    He grinned. “Now I definitely want to dance with you.”
    Sam smiled at his boldness.
    Chris scratched his chin as he considered her. “I never met a girl who’d reconned a room of over fifty students for the sole purpose of engineering a better grade.”
    “What did you think I was doing when the TA was droning on and on about the syllabus?” she asked, brows raised.
    “Guess I was kind of hoping you were drawing those little hearts and curlicues around my name.” He drew a heart in the air with a blunt fingertip. “Chris and Samantha— forever .”
    Sam smiled, enjoying the flirty banter. She liked Chris. He had a laid-back, easy-going way about him. He was clearly bright. Looking at the heavy slabs of muscles clearly visible on his broad frame, she could see he worked hard to maintain his shape and physique, so he had discipline too—a trait she admired.
    “I’ve got a proposal for you,” she said after a moment.
    Chris leaned closer, eyes twinkling. “Shoot.”
    “You and me team up on this upcoming project.”
    “Okay… ?” Chris replied quizzically. “And?” he prompted.
    Sam sipped her water. “We get an A, and you just might get that dance.”
    “You drive a hard bargain, Samantha.”
    “Call me Sam,” she replied casually. “And I prefer to think of it as a win-win.”
    Chris extended his giant paw of a hand. “You got a deal, Sam.”
    “Perfect.” She smiled as they shook on it. “I’ll see you on Monday, then.”
    “Wait, you’re leaving?” he protested, glancing at his watch. “It’s barely