Read Pulse (Contemporary new adult/college romance) (Club Grit Trilogy) for Free Online Page A

hand. Why did he have to be so cute but so infuriating? Why did he have to be a bouncer instead of a student here? Fuck.
    “Funny and cute? Truly, I am blessed,” he said. Something was different about his voice, about the way he talked. It wasn’t like it was in the club. It was...smarter. He sounded like a teacher’s aide instead of a body builder. Now that I looked at him, he dressed like one too. I’d half expected him to roll up on a motorcycle, wearing gold chains, a graphic shirt with rhinestones, and a snapback with a witty phrase, but instead, he looked like an actual grown-up adult, like someone’s sexy dad.
    But, some things never changed.
    Like those tattooed arms.
    Like those firms biceps.
    Like the sly turn of his smile and the way it made the two dimples pop out as they popped in.
    Like the way he made me want him.
    I ordered my usual, a vanilla bean Frappuccino, extra whip, with whole milk in the base, and three pumps of raspberry syrup. Kim, who basically used this as her office away from the sorority when things got too loud, too noisy, too social, had taught me about that recipe. It tasted like cotton candy and had probably, like, ten times the calories, but I didn’t care. I’d just hit the sorority’s state of the art private in home gym later, double time. Skylar just got plain green tea in a plain paper cup. Boring!
    It was also cheaper than what I got by a few dollars. I remembered when that mattered, back before the black card, the credit limit that was nonexistent, the ability to charge whatever I wanted to some checking account my dad kept full. I remembered when I couldn’t afford to go to Starbucks on even a monthly basis, when it was cheaper for me to get a shake to split with my siblings at a fast food restaurant or when we packed thermoses of powdered drinks mixed with water in custom flavor combos because it was too expensive to buy juice, not to mention soda at a gas station. That wasn’t the time I wanted to remember because that wasn’t the girl I wanted to be anymore, especially not around Skylar. If he didn’t like me now, he wouldn’t like me if he learned about my past.
    We got a seat on a couch and put our stuff under the coffee table. He asked me about my day, I asked about his. He was surprised to learn I was nineteen; I was surprised to learn he was twenty three because he looked a lot younger, even with the tats and muscles. I learned that he didn’t work during the day, just nights as a bouncer at the club because he was in a band, The Eldritch Poet’s Society, inspired by the works of some guy named Dell Hatecraft or something. I asked what had gotten him into it.
    And so Skylar explained. “I’ve lived in LA all my life, and I’m in the music scene. No, you haven’t heard of my band, and yes, we’re trying to change that. But anyway, I was at a show and afterwards, I was approached by a nightclub owner. This guy, he wasn’t the kind of guy I’d take for decent, but obviously, I’m not about to judge someone based on appearances. I know what it’s like to be judged.” He rolled up his sleeves and I knew what he meant. My heart dropped and I looked away: what would he think of me if he’d known what I’d thought about him the first time I saw him? That he’d have to be an easy lay because he had his hair gel’d up and had arms full of tats? It wouldn’t be cute. At all.
    “You look a lot different outside of the club,” I blurted out and instantly wished I hadn’t. Fuck. Why was I so awkward around him, when he was the only guy I wanted to be my usually up-beat, cheery, fun self? Why was he getting this sort of reaction out of me? Was it the pills or something different? I’d been out with guys at parties and stuff stoned and high off my ass and I’d never made such an ass of myself, but then again, they’d also been majorly #fuckedup and Skylar was far from that. Did he even drink or smoke or do anything fun? For a bouncer, he wasn’t exactly