Chapter 3
Rafe
Two Midori sours later, Rafe was officially drunk. It was partially the jet lag, but those drinks were surprisingly strong. Louisa had four of them, and she was strolling like she was stone-cold sober. Eamonn and Heath kicked back five pints, and they seemed barely buzzed. It didn’t makesense.
“It doesn’t make sense,” Rafe said aloud. The campus was quiet, except for wind rustling through the leaves. “How are y’all notshitfaced?”
“We only had a few drinks. Bleeding Christ, Yank, you are a lightweight.” Eamonn’s hearty laugh echoed off buildings. He lit a cigarette he had rolled in the bar. Rafe wasn’t a fan of smoking, but there was something sexy about watching Eamonn roll it, watching those assured fingers do their work, and that tongue slick up the paper and seal itshut.
“We’ve been drinking for years,” Heath said. “I’ve been having a pint with my mum and dad at dinner since I was fourteen. Just more of atolerance.”
“Heath obviously comes from a family of lushes,” Louisasaid.
“And Louisa is a bastion of temperance over here,” he shot back. Rafe loved their repartee. He and his friends were way too nice to each other. “Don’t forget. All the people who don’t drink fled Britain and founded America. All the cool people stayedhere.”
Rafe couldn’t argue with that logic. His brain couldn’t really handle logic right now. And his body couldn’t handle the dip into the valley of their dorms. He held his arms out to balance himself as they walked down the hill. He was not going to fall splat in front of his new friends.Friends. Yes, they are myfriends.
“You are all my friends,” Rafe proclaimed. “I love ithere!”
He knew they were laughing at his drunken state, or with. He realized that getting made fun of was a sign of acceptance in thisgroup.
Suddenly, Rafe felt sturdy hands on his sides and a warm cloud of cigarette smoke blow past his ears. “What are you doing?” he askedEamonn.
“Making sure you don’t fall on your arse,” he said with a cigarette hanging from hismouth.
“I have it. I can work. I mean,walk.”
“We all need a little help sometimes.” Eamonn stomped out his cigarette and tossed it in a nearby trash. He wrapped an arm around Rafe’s hips and guided him down the slippery slope. Rafe had no choice but to put his arm around the guy’sshoulders.
“Poor Yank can’t hold his liquor.” Louisalaughed.
“You’re one to talk, Louisa,” Heath said. “I distinctly remember last year on a walk home from the pub, you chundered in every rubbish bin from here to thedorm.”
“There we go.” Eamonn’s grip was tight and protective. Rafe thought he felt Eamonn’s thumb massaging his side as they walked, but that was probably wishful thinking. Rafe couldn’t get enough of the way his lingering smoke and cologne mixed together into a manly, almost forbiddenscent.
“I said I have—” But Rafe so obviously didn’t. The hill had more of an incline than he realized, and balance became a tricky thing. He stumbled forward, but Eamonn yanked him back like a great-smelling seatbelt. “I guess I don’t haveit.”
When they reached the bottom, Rafe thought Eamonn would let go, but his hands remained solidly on his body. Eamonn directed them to Sweeney. Rafe wondered if he really was that drunk, or if there was something more to Eamonn’s gentlemanly gesture. The British accent really messed with his gaydar. With the accent, all British guys sounded a little gay. It was the polished thing, and maybe Heath was right. All the uptight people left England. American guys were so scared of coming off the least bit homo that they made themselves sound likecavemen.
Heath held open the door to Sweeney for the three of them. Eamonn moved him and Rafe sideways to getinside.
“I’m fine. I can enter a door,” Rafe said, before knocking his shoulder against theframe.
“Right.” Eamonn didn’t relinquish his hold on Rafe, not even as they walked up the stairs, which Rafe did not mind. It felt good to be taken care of, though he knew he shouldn’t get attached. Eamonn was just being a nice guy and there was nothing more to read intoit.
Nothingmore.
“Which one is your room?” Rafe asked. Eamonn motioned for him to keep his voicedown.
“You are perfectly pissed.” Eamonnlaughed.
Louisa hugged Rafe good night. “We’re happy you’re here,Rafe.”
“Really?”
“Of course, mate.” Heath clapped him on the shoulder. He looked over his head to Eamonn, and Rafe wondered they were saying telepathically to each other.I say old chap, this stupid American can’t hold hisalcohol.
“I’m happy I’m here,too!”
