He arrived an hour ago and offered to drive me home, but I don’t want to ruin his time with Marie. As long as I don’t have to see Charles or that tent again, I’ll survive. Maybe I’m a prude, but sex clubs aren’t something I’m accustomed to. I never imagined anything like that. “Karlie, can I speak with you?” I cringe on hearing Charles’s voice. He lives here, so I really don’t have a choice. I gaze up at him. “Do whatever you want.” He joins me on the stairs. “You didn’t give me a chance to explain.” I don’t want to hear what he has to say. He asked me out nearly every day—teased me relentlessly—called me virgin girl—embarrassed me. Was he recruiting fresh meat for his club? I shudder at the thought. “I won’t lie to you. We indulge in activities that are repugnant to some people. I’m a jock, Karlie, not a priest. As long as it’s off campus and no one gets hurt, what’s the problem? My parents make substantial donations to the school. I’m magna cum laude and play ball like a pro.”
