“I’m out,” I say, closing my palm over my watch so Justin can’t snatch it off. “You have fun, though.”
When I’m in the mood for sex, I choose the girl instead of leaving it to fate. Besides, I’m definitelynotin the mood after my earlier encounter with Ana. One stalker is quite enough.
She stopped by again like she has done every day since she found out where I live. I stopped answering her calls and texts, leaving her standing outside all week. But today was different... she got inside the building and knocked on my door.
Massaging my temples, I push the memory of our conversation aside. I yelled...
I fucking hate yelling at women, but Ana left me no choice.
Needing a distraction, I head to the kitchen for two more Coronas. By the time I’m back, Conor’s there with his girl, and Colt’s missing his watch.
“Come on, Cody.” He points at the bowl. “This is our last night of stupidity. Come Monday, we’re no longer students. Life starts. What have you got to lose?”
My lips part, but words don’t come because he’s right. I have nothing to lose, and it’s not like I never fucked a girl I barely know. Maybe a quick deed will help me work out the frustration seizing my muscles.
With a deep, defeated sigh, I pass him one beer, then flick my watch off, adding it to the pile.
“That’s what I’m talking about!” Finn yells, handing Vivienne the bowl. “Mix it up a bit, will you?”
She grins, elbowing Conor. “Give me your watch.”
He cocks an eyebrow, but like a good boy, he obeys, only placing his on top after she’s mixed the others.
“I pick first,” she announces, snatching Conor’s TAG Hauer off the pile with a cheeky smile. “Now what?”
Finn cackles beside us. “Now you have seven minutes to fuck in Brandon’s coat closet.”
At this point, I think she’ll back out, but to my surprise, she grabs Conor’s hand and follows Justin to the closet by the main entrance.
“Someone time them!” Colt shouts.
“Okay!” Finn calls over the music pumping in the garden and the excited chatter around us. “Girls, if you wanna play, step out of the crowd.”
At least twenty rush forward. Some sober, some tipsy, some barely holding their weight—those won’t be allowed to play. No way anyone’s touching a girl too drunk to know what she’s consenting to.
Not after what happened to Mia last year.
The whole campus saw the video, and not a single girl has been inappropriately touched since. Too bad it took Mia getting hurt for some of those fuckers to stop thinking with their dicks.
“What’s going on?” Brandon asks, arriving with Blair.
My whole body immediately stiffens.
Now thisgirl...thisgirl I’ve known my whole life. I have no idea who the girl playing peek-a-boo with my nephew was, but it wasn’t the Blair I know. It was an act, a façade now entirely ripped away. She’s back to her usual slutty, bitchy self.
It’s a relief if I’m honest. The uncertain, cute-tee-and-jeans-wearing Blair has been horning into my thoughts way too often this past week.
Technically, she’s showing less than she usually does at these kind of parties. Her boobs normally spill from the flimsy confinement of a deep cleavage dress, but tonight, there’s none of that. Her dress is a long-sleeved turtleneck, so her boobs aren’t on display.Technically.
In practice, the gold, shimmering scrap is so damn short her sky-high legs are bare, the hem an inch over her butt. It’s so damn tight I can count her fucking ribs.
How a girl so thin—even though she gained weight lately—can sport that chest is a mystery. Her boobs aren’t big. Quite small, actually, but so perky and perfectly round I could spend hours lost between them, I swear.
She sits opposite me, beside Brandon, and once our eyes lock, I’m fucking glowing.
My skin’s itching.
My mind’s reeling.
