It’s after midnight, and it’s dark andsoquiet. When I hear a sound behind me, I still, but I don’t hear it again. “I’m trippin’,” Isay to myself, hurrying along toward the frat, my head spinning more than I’d like it to be. Fuuuuuck. I better not puke. I haven’t drunk so much I puked since freshman year.
As I’m stepping off the curb, my foot twists and I stumble, feet getting tangled together just before I hit the pavement. This is…embarrassing.
A hand wraps around my biceps, steadying me. I look up, expecting to see one of my frat brothers about to give me shit, but it’s Miles Tanner’s steel-blue eyes meeting mine. God, maybe he’s a walking warning sign, but he has really pretty eyes, and why the fuck am I fixated on his eyes?
I’m surprised when he pulls me to my feet.
“Are you going to blame me for trying to trip you again?” I ask snarkily.
“I’m trying to help. You literally just fell.”
He is, in fact, right, but I don’t know why he would want to help me when he clearly hates me. “But you saved the day. My hero.” My tone drips with sarcasm. Again, I’m being an ass, but can he really blame me?
“You know what? Fine. Whatever. Stumble your way home, then.” There’s a weird look in his eyes, Miles’s gaze darting away, not meeting mine. He’s not great at eye contact on a good day, but it’s worse now.
“Hey, listen.”
“Fuck off,” he says, and there he is, the Miles I know. He’s the one who is an asshole to me, not the guy who tries to help me. Why the fuck did he help me up, and what is he doing out here?
I figure he’s gonna bolt, but without so much as asking, he takes my arm, drapes it around his shoulders, and starts pulling me with him.
“Kinky,” I tease, but he ignores me, and while his gesture seems a bit dramatic, the more we walk, the more I realize it’s probably the only thing keeping me from falling.
We don’t speak as we continue down the street. Hell, I’m not even sure what to say to him, but it’s not long before we’ve reached Alpha Theta Mu, where he leads me up the front porch steps before pulling my arm off him.
“Key?” he asks, and I fetch it from my pocket, handing it over. He unlocks the door and starts to move toward me.
“You gonna escort me to my room?” I ask, genuinely curious how far he plans to take this, which is maybe a little weird since he wanted to take my head off last week, but I’m drunk, and giving him shit is fun.
His eyes flare. “No, I…just wanted to make sure you got inside,” he rushes out before handing me back my key.
I’m good at reading people, it’s kind of my thing, so I try to get a read on why the hell he just did this, but the whole not looking at me isn’t helping…and probably the alcohol isn’t helping in that department either.
“Night, Dax.” Without another word, he walks away.
“Thank y—” I haven’t even finished the words before he’s halfway down the lawn.
Although, I guess him walking away is the least surprising part of tonight, and as my blurry, drunken vision catches him tucking his hands in his pockets and heading down the fraternity row, all I can think is,What…the hell…was that?
1
Miles
Fall Semester
“Oh, fuck, yeah…oh…”Tatum calls out as I shove him against the floor-length mirror. With his hand against the mirror as he pushes that ass back toward me, in the reflection, his eyes roll back the way they usually do when he’s really enjoying himself, which is pretty typical when he’s with me. Not to brag, but I know what I’m doing with this cock, and the way his body vibrates with each stroke assures me it’s hitting everything it needs to. With a smudge of purple paint smeared across his cheek, his lips curl into a sexy smirk as I keep drilling away.
We’ve been going for over half an hour.
On the floor by the piece I finished painting.
On my bed.
On the desk.
And now against the mirror.
It’s even better than usual, maybe because neither of us got enough action over the summer. But I can’t fuck all day, even if that feels like a good idea right now. I don’t let up my pace as I say, “As fun as this is, you know I have to be in class.”
