As soon as I’m on the street, I flip the ignition and shift my bike into gear, barreling down the street at breakneck speed. Less than ten minutes pass before I make it to Greek Row. As soon as I’m in front of Zeta Pi, I kill my engine and get off my bike. Sprinting for the front door, I tear off my helmet.
My eyes scan the room as soon as I step inside, my gaze sweeping for Cecilia. The scene inside is pure chaos. Girls aredancing, guys are grinding behind them, and everyone seems to be in full party mode.
My heart pounds, and I scan each cluster of people, looking for any sign of Cecilia’s dark brown hair and delicate frame. She’s too damn tiny and hard to find in this sea of people.
Some unfamiliar chick sidles up to me. “Hey,” she says. “You killed it at this week's game against CPU.”
I grunt, hardly spare her a glance, and brush past her, but the girl is persistent.
“So uh, do you come to these parties a lot?”
I ignore the question, still scanning the crowd.
There.
My eyes latch onto what I know is the back of Felix’s head, and I shove my way toward him, ignoring the girl when she calls out my name.
“Gabriel! Wait up.”
Not happening. I’m not here for some cleat chaser’s attention. I’m here to get my girl.
“Where is she?” I demand as soon as I’m within earshot.
Felix looks up at the sound of my voice, relief washing over his features.
He steps aside, revealing Cecilia.
Her skin is pale, her brown eyes wide and filled with fear. Her hair is pulled back into twin braids, exposing the column of herneck, and I can see the rapid thrum of her pulse. But what my eyes get stuck on is what she’s wearing.
Cecilia’s in a dress.
I can’t help but do a double-take. Holy shit. That’s some dress—black and figure-hugging, short, resting on the tops of her thighs.
It’s a sight I can’t quite wrap my head around. Don’t get me wrong, she looks good. Better than good. She looks amazing. But still, my brows furrow in confusion.
Why is she dressed like this?
There’s a guy talking to her, but it doesn’t look like she’s paying him any attention, and Felix doesn’t let him get too close.
Good.
I give the guy a quick once-over. He’s not familiar, not someone I know.
“That was fast,” Felix comments, a hint of humor in his voice.
Fucker.
I shoot him a glare. Like he didn’t expect me to ride over here like a bat out of hell after that text he sent me. When Felix turns his attention to me, the guy trying to talk to Cecilia manages to shift closer, reaching out to touch her arm. My eyes sharpen, and my blood boils with barely tempered rage.
Why is this asshole touching her?
Cecilia flinches away from his touch, and my anger intensifies.
“What did you do?” I growl, my voice like gravel.
The guy jerks his eyes toward me. “I’ve got this,” he says to me with misplaced confidence.
Cecilia offers no response. Her eyes are locked on something in the distance, and I follow her gaze to see Austin Holt standing on the other side of the room, near the kitchen’s back door. He offers me a smug grin and raises his beer in a mocking salute.
