“That would be Gina.” Rush blinks in the redhead’s direction.
“Regina Feldmen—ah, yes.” Lucky gives a silent laugh. “The nocturnal vamp. Rumor has it she never sleeps, and when she does—well, let’s just say some people still haven’t outgrown wetting their beds.”
“Crap.” Rush hisses. “Thanks for the heads-up. I just had an adjustable bed delivered. I’ll have to get creative with this one.”
“There’s always her place.” Lucky flits her eyes to mine for a moment. It feels odd standing feet apart from her as if we were strangers. It feels odd not having spoken to her in over twenty-four hours after what we experienced. And now here she is, so casual as if nothing happened at all.
“Are you kidding?” Rush balks at the idea of camping out at Kappa G. “Have you met your captains? I’ve been suspended from any further sexual shenanigans per Sharon Ridgefield and that little mishap that involved a small fire—no thanks to that megawatt desk lamp of hers. In my defense, she insisted on tossing a scarf over it.”
“So that was you!” Lucky swats him, clearly impressed with said sexual shenanigans. “The great fire of fall semester!”
Rush nods and flicks his fingers as if egging on her enthusiasm. “I’ll figure it out. I haven’t conquered the Mustang Dome yet. And I happen to know the door leading in from the locker room is open half the time.”
He takes off and Lucky howls, “Go Mustangs!”
“You didn’t suggest the laundry room?” I butt my shoulder into hers, still gauging what our standing might be this evening.
Lucky looks up with those pools of lavender and freezes.
A breath escapes my lungs, and I can’t seem to draw the very next one. Our eyes lock, and neither one of us seems able to look away. The last time we laid eyes on one another we were pieced together in the most intimate way, and yet here in this room filled with hundreds of bodies, a foot between us, it feels just as intimate.
“Why would I suggest the laundry room?” She winces as if daring me to go there, and it takes everything in me to stop from knotting my fingers up in her hair the way I want to—from sealing my lips over hers.
I take a deep breath while racking my brain on how to steer away from falling into an open pit.
“Because that’s where all the best things happen.” I mean that, but from a personal standpoint and considering she’s the only girl I’ve taken down there, it’s saying something far more than I want it to.
“Best things, huh?” A smile curves on her lips. “I bet you’re in need of getting some laundry done right about now, aren’t you?” Her brow hooks high into her forehead, and for the life of me I cannot read this girl.
Is she propositioning me?
“Do you need to do laundry?” I cock my head to the side and hold my breath in anticipation. “Do you want me to doyourlaundry?” I just went there. God knows I’d like a do-over in that arena. I selfishly took care of my fluffed and folded needs yesterday and left hers hanging out to dry.
“I don’t know if you can handle my laundry.” She widens those powerful eyes like she’s casting a spell. “I’m not in it for a simple spin cycle. I need someone to handle my delicates until they come just right.”
And there it is. Lucky Madden is laying out her sexual grievances, and for whatever reason, this makes me want her ten times more. She didn’t finish. I was greedy and took care of my own needs, and she’s not letting me off the hook. Oddly, I love it.
“Oh, look, there’s Eli.” She gives a little wave his way, but he’s too busy chatting it up with his prospect for the evening. “Maybe he’s up for a little tumble dry later tonight?”
“You’re messing with me.” There. I called her on her bullshit. Someone has to. Lucky thinks life is one big head game. I should know. I’ve driven down the same lane for the past two decades of my life.
“Why would I be messing with you?” A crowd of people muscle by, and Lucky lands pressed to my chest, her face blushing like a rose as she’s forced to look straight up at me. My heart thumps once out of rhythm. Lucky Madden is beautiful in a mean, knife-your-balls-off-with-one-dirty-look kind of way. My breathing picks up, and my muscles start to shake because every last part of me demands I wrap myself around this girl.
My hand finds its way to her lower back, and I don’t hesitate pressing in.
“Eli’s busy tonight. You’ll have to find someone else to entertain you.”
She wrinkles her nose as if this actually vexed her, and a spear of jealousy runs through me. What the hell was that? I don’t want Lucky to myself, do I? I’m unattached until grad school and beyond, right? My throat grows parched, and I swallow hard.
“Someone like who?” Her hands press against my chest as if she’s about to launch me backward.
And just like that, I give. The tension rod that’s been holding me together since the time my mother left snaps in two, and I can breathe again, first time in years.
“Someone like me.” I take up her hands with mine and interlace our fingers. Lucky’s features elongate with either horror or surprise—I’m hoping it’s the latter. “Let’s get out of here. I want to show you something.”
I weave us out through the tangle of bodies, straight to the front door, down to the sidewalk, and keep heading north at a decent clip until the sounds of the party, the music become dimly muted.
“Are you kidnapping me?” She skips and laughs as if approving of the abduction.
