“Some nights…but not tonight,” he answered with a smirk. “Tonight is all about drinking.”
“I can get down with that.”
Gripping the oh-shit handle as Matt rounded a corner a little faster than he should, I laughed and decided I’d allow myself this one night of fun. One night before I had to head back to Tennessee and take my dreaded finals and then return to Coldcreek for an undetermined length of time for a crash course in reality.
We turned down a street slammed with cars parked on either side and people walking in all directions. It was a little narrow in a few places for my liking, which made me glad I wasn’t the one driving.
“Jesus, I’m glad I got the radiator fixed before this fucking party,” Matt said. He turned down the music and I knew he was tense. “My fucking car would have overheated by now for sure otherwise, because of this freaking slow-ass pace.”
I didn’t say anything. Instead, I kept my eyes trained out my window. Norhurst University was a nice place. I hadn’t been here since I was a high schooler crashing college parties. That seemed like forever ago. But if old Gramps hung on longer than we all thought he would, me enrolling here might become a reality in the fall.
A group of girls staggering down the road caught my eye. The one on the far end had the right side of her tube top slid down just enough to show the beginnings of her little pink nipple. She was completely plastered, I knew this, but it didn’t stop me from staring. Her friend in the middle rolled her ankle in her super high heels and fell flat on her face. The short skirt she wore flipped up, giving me and Matt a front-row seat to view her lacy black thong as we drove past. Matt catcalled out my window at her and I grinned.
If I did have to enroll here in the fall, and Norhurst was going to be like this every weekend, then I figured I’d manage just fine.
Matt slung his Camaro into a spot and cut the engine. Rolling up my window, I opened my door and stepped out into the night air. There was a slight breeze, but it did nothing to lessen the humidity in the air. At this rate it was going to be one fucking hot summer.
“Lock it,” Matt instructed. He rounded the car, rubbing the palms of his hands together. A shit-eating grin plastered itself on his face.
“I did,” I said.
We started through the crammed parking lot and I glanced at the cluster of brick apartments ahead. It looked like there was a party going on in just about all of them. Everyone seemed to be in need of releasing some pre-finals tension.
“Which building are we headed to?” I asked Matt after we bypassed a few with some lovely ladies standing outside.
“Two more down,” Matt said. “It’s my buddy Roy’s place. You remember Roy Archer?”
Two more buildings down? Jesus, I hadn’t known we’d be walking a freaking mile to get there. Talk about taking the first parking space available.
“Roy Archer? Tall, lanky guy?” I asked, not sure I was thinking of the right guy.
“Yeah, always looked like he was stoned, even though he swore he never smoked.”
I laughed. “I remember him.”
“It’s his party and it’s supposed to be kick-ass.”
Comparing my version of kick-ass to what Matt’s might be, I prayed they were the same. Or at least somewhat similar.
“This is the one,” Matt said as we neared a building that couldn’t be packed with anymore people. “All right!”
Matt began to bob his head with the music that blared out of the apartment and flowed to the sidewalk where we were. I weaved my way through the maze of people standing around talking, following Matt inside while hoping he was heading straight for the alcohol. The music mixed with the sounds of people shouting the word “Chug” repeatedly the farther inside we made it. The first thing I noticed as we stepped into the tiny, white-walled living room was the keg sitting smack in the center. Some scrawny-looking guy without a shirt on was doing a keg stand. This was why everyone was chanting.
“Damn, that little guy can chug,” I said to Matt in awe.
“That’s Roy and he sure as shit can.”
When Roy finally flipped off the keg, his face was beet red and he looked slightly dizzy, but he regained his composure quickly. The room burst into hoots and hollers. Roy took a bow and grinned like a motherfucker, enjoying his twenty seconds of fame. Random people held twenties out to him and he collected them all with a smirk.
“What’s up, man,” Matt shouted as he walked to Roy’s side.
I looked Roy over, thinking he hadn’t changed a bit since high school. He still looked as though he’d just finished smoking a doobie.
“Cashin’ in, brother,” Roy said over the music. “What’s up?”
“Nothin’ much, just brought my boy here who’s in town for a minute to have a little fun before he has to head back home tomorrow,” Matt replied. “You remember Jason, right?”
Roy looked at me and nodded in recognition. “Yeah. Bryant, right?”
“That’s me,” I said. Introductions were always awkward, even if I’d already met the guy three years ago in high school.
Matt cut in front of some short, pudgy girl with a side ponytail and grabbed a red plastic cup. He cocked it to the side and filled it up with frothy goodness. Passing it to me, he grabbed up another for himself. The girl behind him merely scowled, but didn’t protest.
Putting the cup to my lips, I took a long guzzle while scanning around the crowded apartment. There wasn’t much to look at; the place was tiny. A group of girls standing in the kitchen caught my eye. The one in the green dress had a bangin’ body and one of those cute little faces that hinted at innocence. I swore she looked familiar, but I couldn’t place her. Matt said something then, but I didn’t catch it.
“What’d you say?” I asked, taking another swig of my drink.
“I asked you if you wanted to smoke?” He held a joint between his fingers out to me.
“Nah, man. I’m cool for right now.”
I didn’t care for weed. Never had. Seeing Matt toke up made me think of just how much he’d changed over the last three years. He’d always been a drinker, known to pop a pill or two here and there, but never a stoner. Matt passed the joint to some girl with blue streaks in her hair who was now hanging on him and exhaled.
“You sure?” he asked me again.
“Yeah.”
I shifted my gaze back to the cluster of three girls standing in the tiny kitchen. Some douchebag guy now stood with them. The girl who I’d thought looked familiar was hanging on his every word and I wondered if they were a couple or if she was just reeling him in for a one-night stand. I stood there, watching her and thinking she was just the type of girl I needed right now—innocent face with a tad of kinkiness shining through her eyes. She leaned to her right and onto her friend’s shoulder while laughing hysterically at whatever the douche she stood with had said, and then there she was. The girl I’d always thought of as an unobtainable pass in high school—Blaire Hayes.
CHAPTER THREE
BLAIRE
My throat was scratchy. I wished I’d brought another throat lozenge with me, but Paige had said my clutch purse didn’t go with my dress and that there was no point in even bringing it. Reluctantly, I’d listened to her and now I wished I hadn’t. Maybe I should have worn something with pockets.
“Yeah, it was a wild weekend,” Craig Owen said. He was trying a little too hard for my taste to seem cool, but Paige was eating it up. “You lovely ladies should come with me some time.”
“Tubing could be fun,” Paige said. She batted her heavily coated eyelashes and flashed him a sexy grin.
Horrible. This guy was a douche, couldn’t she see that? I took a long sip of my drink to ease my scratchy throat while at the same time to keep me from saying something rude.
“Oh, it’s fun and with you there…it would be even funner,” Craig said. Funner wasn’t even a word. Loser. His eyes trailed down the length of Paige and I knew he was insinuating seeing her in a bikini would
be fun. “We tether a few extra tubes to some of ours and let the coolers crammed with tasty beverages float along with us.”
“I need to use the restroom. Blaire, will you come with me?” Lauren asked. She didn’t wait for me to answer. Instead, she tugged on my arm and pulled me into the narrow hallway with her. “Wipe that bitchy look off your face,” she scolded me as we pushed our way toward the bathroom.
“Bitchy look?”
“Yeah, bitchy look. Paige looks like she’s having a good time,” Lauren said. “Be happy for her and try to have a good time too.”
“I am having a good time. See, this is me having a good time.” I took a swig of my drink and smiled. “And I am happy Paige is having fun. I just think Craig seems sort of conceited and dim-witted. She always goes for the asshats and then wonders why they treat her like shit. This guy seems like one-night stand material, like he makes it his life goal to rack up as many as he can or something.”
We continued down the constricted hall in search of a bathroom. I was pretty sure it would be the door around the little corner at the end.
“Maybe, but that’s exactly what she needs after Karl… A sexy as shit, conceited, one-night stand.” Lauren smirked.
“I guess.” I rolled my eyes.
Lauren slipped into the bathroom while I waited in the hall. Taking another sip of my drink, I pulled open the bi-fold closet door to my right and peeked inside. I was sure all that was behind it was a mildew-scented washer and dryer set, but even so, I was curious. These apartments were a little on the small side, but the appliances in the kitchen had looked brand new as well as the countertops, and I found myself wondering if the washer and dryer would be too. There was a nice front-loading set gleaming at me in the dim light of the hallway. I scrunched up my face, wishing our apartment had come with a set like that.
“Blaire, what are you doing?” Lauren asked slowly from behind me.
I spun, startled, and busted my elbow on the closet door. Lauren was looking at me like I was nuts.
“Jesus, you scared me.” I pressed my hand to my chest. “I didn’t even hear the bathroom door open.”
She laughed. “What were you doing? Scoping out their dirty laundry?”
“No.” I took another sip of my beer and looped my arm through hers. “Come on. Let’s make sure Paige hasn’t started dry humping the conceited cutie’s leg yet.”
When we made it back to the tiny kitchen, Paige was standing right where we’d left her. I knew she wasn’t plastered yet, but she was halfway there. She’d without doubt had more to drink than me and it was becoming noticeable in the tone of her laugh and the little slur entering her words. I finished the last of the warm beer in the bottom of my cup.
“I’m gonna get another.” I held up my cup. “Anyone need another one too?”
Susan Baron—who I knew from my Intro to Health Concepts class during my first year of college—held out her cup to me, pausing in her conversation for only a brief moment.
“Me, thanks!” she said. She was talking with Lauren about how gross old men balls were.
She’d just started interning at a nursing home in the next town over. While I had seen my fair share of old men balls at Cross Meadows—and yes, I could attest it was a pretty gross sight—there was no way in hell I was going to sit here and snicker about it with her. It wasn’t like the old men could help it, nor was it their finest moment—having a young girl change their underwear because they couldn’t. It had to be freaking humiliating at times.
Maybe this cold I had was putting me in a sourer mood than I’d thought. A party was not the place for me tonight. I should have just stayed home. Thirty more minutes. That’s all Paige and Lauren were getting out of me. After thirty minutes, I was pressing for them to take me home.
“Sure,” I said, taking Susan’s cup. “No problem.”
Weaving through the small kitchen, I made my way to the keg in the center of the living room. The heavy scent of marijuana floated to my nose and I knew that Roy or Matt or one of their pothead goony friends had lit up another joint somewhere. Part of me prayed I’d get a contact buzz while the other part worried I’d fail the next random drug test at work from just smelling it.
Waiting in line at the keg, I stood behind some guy with a black baseball cap on backwards. I glanced around him to see the couple in front of him attempt to pour themselves another drink. The girl wore a tight-fitting polka-dot sundress and a pair of brown cowboy boots. The guy wore a low-hung pair of blue jeans and a red plaid shirt. They were the perfect country-looking couple. I smiled while watching them flirt as they filled their cups.
“Come on,” baseball cap guy in front of me yelled at them. “Get your fucking drinks already.”
“Sorry, man,” the country guy smirked. He stopped messing around and filled their cups, then moved out of the way. “There you go,”
Baseball Cap muttered something and shouldered his way past country boy; obviously he wasn’t a nice drunk. Gotta love the idiots like that. Banging the two cups I held together lightly while I waited for my turn at the keg, I glanced around the apartment. Lauren was still talking with Susan, and some guy with red hair and loads of freckles was trying to gain her attention beside her. I smirked. Poor guy. Little did he know, Lauren was so completely turned off by redheaded guys it wasn’t even funny. My eyes shifted to Paige. She and Craig were hitting it off really well still. Figures, her rebound guy would be the only cocky ass at the party.
“You gonna be able to handle this?” Baseball Cap asked me, still holding the tap firmly.
“Uh, yeah,” I said. I hadn’t intended for my words to come out so clipped and sarcastic, but they had. “Thanks.”
“Suit yourself,” he said as he handed me the tap and walked off.
Sighing, I struggled to keep hold of the two cups in my hand and maneuver the tap to fill one. Tipping the cup to the side, I gripped the tap a little more lightly, hoping the beer would flow out slowly. It didn’t. Instead, it sprayed against the inside of the cup and splashed all over the front of my dress.
Awesome.
“Need some help?” someone chuckled from behind me.
“I guess so,” I said, still in shock that I’d just managed to soak myself with alcohol and I wasn’t even smashed yet.
This was more affirmation that I did not need to be here right now. I needed to be at home, suffering with my scratchy throat and stuffy nose in private, while I crammed some more for finals. I spun around to thank whoever had offered and hand him Susan’s cup. My heart stopped. It was Jason Bryant.
What was he doing here? He was supposed to be going to school in Tennessee. How I knew this wasn’t important; what was important was that he was here. Right now. Standing in front of me. While I was covered in beer that I’d sprayed on myself and he’d obviously witnessed.
“Thanks,” I said. My voice sounded strange, strangled even. I cleared my throat. “Apparently I’m not as talented as I thought I was with a tap.”
Lame. That was so freaking lame.
His blue eyes locked on mine. Amusement swirled within them. God, he still looked exactly the same as when we were in high school. I’d learned over the last three years that some guys I’d found attractive while in high school had hit their prime in the looks department back then and it had gone downhill since, but Jason, he was nowhere near that category. Was it crazy to think that he looked even better?
“Here, let me take one,” he offered, reaching for a cup. I released one to him. “So, what’s Blaire Hayes doing in a place like this?”
He remembered my name. I swallowed hard. My throat had suddenly gotten scratchier and drier than before. “Same as you, I guess,” I said, proud my voice sounded somewhat normal.
His eyes flicked from the keg to mine again. “Figured you’d be locked away studying until your eyes popped out.”
“Actually that was my plan for the night, but my friends talked me into doing otherwise.” What was I thinking? He didn’t ne
ed to know that about me right away, that I was still a stick in the mud.
“Some people never change.” Jason smiled. He handed me a cup back, filled to the rim, and took the other one from my fingers while I wondered if what he’d said was a good thing. He’d said it like it was. “I’m glad those friends of yours talked you into coming.”
I smiled. “Oh, yeah? And why is that?”
I was flirting. I was flirting with freaking Jason Bryant.
This was the guy I’d been madly in love with all through high school. The guy who, in our sophomore year, had made a complete idiot of me and I still managed to think he was hot after. Back then, when it came to Jason Bryant, I was a goner… Apparently that was true even now. Three years after high school graduation.
Jason handed me my other beer and his smile widened. “Because, it’s nice to run into a gorgeous familiar face every now and then.”
Only two words stuck out to me. Gorgeous and face. Dear God, I needed to get a grip on myself. I took a sip of the beer he’d just handed me while watching him as he refilled his own cup. His dark hair was tousled and his face was covered with a slight amount of stubble. He wore a pair of blue jeans and a plain baby blue T-shirt that matched the color of his eyes and accentuated his toned, sculpted upper body in all the right ways.
Jason stood and put the rim of his cup to his lips. There was a hint of a smile twisting at the corners before he took a sip. “What?” he asked.
“Huh? Nothing,” I said. My cheeks heated. He’d obviously caught me checking him out.
Should I walk away? The moment had become awkward now.
“Okay,” he dragged the word out. “So, you live here now or are you still in Coldcreek?”
“Here,” I said.
“Are you a student?”
“Yeah.”
My stomach flipped and tied itself into knots. He was trying to start up a conversation; I knew this, but I still could only manage to give him one-word answers. I took another sip of my drink, hoping it would be that magic sip number of the night and make my lips a little looser. I needed to relax.
“And what are you majoring in?” he tried again.
“I’m going for my RN license. This is my second year. Actually, finals are next week, which was why I wanted to stay home and study.”
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