“Where’s the band?” I yell so she can hear me.
“What band?” she yells back as she moves to the music.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
“What?” She leans closer. “I can’t hear you.”
“Never mind. You better get back to Todd. Just be careful, okay? You don’t know him that well.”
“I’ll be fine. Have fun tonight!” She gives me a quick hug, then runs off into Todd’s waiting arms. They kiss and he grabs her ass as she grinds against him. I bet they’ll be having sex by the end of the night, or maybe in a few minutes the way they’re going at it.
Megan’s a free spirit. Wild and crazy and up for anything. We became friends a few months ago when we were on a project together for marketing. We’re not close friends but just friends who go out now and then. She’s not someone I’d share my deepest, innermost secrets to because she can’t keep a secret to save her life. Last March I told her I liked this guy in our class and the next day he came up to me and told me he has a girlfriend. Megan had told him what I said! I was mortified. She said she was only trying to help because I hadn’t been on a date in a month but her ‘help’ backfired and left me feeling embarrassed around the guy for the rest of the semester. Thank God school is out for the summer so I don’t have to see him.
I should’ve known Megan would take off with some guy the minute we got here. Now I’m stuck at this party not knowing anyone. But it’s Friday night and I just finished a week of finals so I don’t want to go back to my apartment. I want to be out having fun.
I gulp down some of my spiked fruit punch. It’s way too sweet and whatever they spiked it with doesn’t mix well with the fruity taste of the punch.
“Hey,” a voice says from behind me.
I look over and see a blond guy walking toward me. He’s tall and thin, wearing a smile that says he’s looking for sex and wants to know if I’m interested. Maybe it’s presumptuous to assume all that from a simple smile but after attending two years of college and a ton of parties, I’ve seen that smile many times on many guys and I know what it means.
“How’s it going?” he asks, his eyes lowering to my breasts before returning to my face.
“Good,” I say. “How about you?”
Instead of answering, he holds his hand out. “I’m Alex.”
“Amber.” I shake his hand. It’s cold and clammy and his fingers are long and skinny and feel awkward wrapped around mine. I won’t date a guy if his hand doesn’t fit right in mine. Maybe that’s crazy, but would you really want to date a guy you can’t hold hands with? Or if you do hold hands with him, would you want it to feel awkward?
I’ve had this debate with Megan and she’s told me that nobody holds hands anymore, except for old people and little kids. She said she never holds hands with a guy, but that’s because she skips straight to the sex. There’s no time for handholding. Her hands are too busy doing other things.
As for me? I like holding a guy’s hand. I think it’s romantic. If you do it in public, it shows people you’re a couple. If you do it in private, it says you can’t help but touch the person even if you’re just sitting together watching TV.
“Need another drink?” Alex asks, pointing to my cup, which is still half full.
“No thanks. I’m good. So you go to school at Townsend?”
“Yeah. I’m a senior, or I will be in the fall.” He finishes his drink.
“What’s your major?”
“Business,” he says, seeming completely uninterested in the topic. He wants sex, not someone to talk to. “You sure you don’t want another drink?”
He wants me to drink up and get drunk so we can move this along.
“I still have some left,” I say, holding up the cup.
He nods, and his eyes go to my breasts again. I’m wearing a sleeveless button-up blouse and the silky fabric clings to my chest. It’s tucked into my short skirt, which Alex has taken note of, his eyes now skimming down my legs.
He’s smiling, so obviously he likes what he sees but I’m not feeling the same way. I’m not feeling anything for him. Not even the tiniest spark. It’s not like there’s anything wrong with him. He has a good-looking face, bright blond hair, and pale blue eyes. I’m sure plenty of girls find him attractive, but not me. I’m not into blonds, despite being one myself. Maybe that’s why I don’t like them. I want something different. I tend to go for guys with dark hair and dark eyes, so this guy? Not at all my type. Add in the skinny fingers and the fact that he won’t stop leering at me and wants to get me drunk, and I feel the sudden need to get away from him.
“I need to find my friend,” I tell him. “But I’ll see ya around.” I walk off and he doesn’t bother to follow me. He knows he wasn’t getting any.
Glancing back at the dance floor, I see Megan and Todd grinding against each other to the slow pulsing beat of the music. I’m surprised they haven’t found a room by now. When Megan likes a guy, she moves fast. A few weeks ago I went to a club with her and she hooked up with a guy ten minutes after meeting him. I admit he was hot, but hooking up after knowing him for ten minutes? That’s crazy.
And yet, I was oddly envious of it because it’s so unlike anything I would ever do. A one-night stand? Never had one and probably never will. Although…I’m not completely opposed to the idea.
I’ve never told anyone this, not even my best friend, Kira, who lives back in Michigan, but the truth is, I’ve fantasized about having a one-night stand. Not the kind where I’m so drunk I can’t remember it the next day. And not the kind that’s instigated by some overly aggressive guy like Alex who doesn’t care who he’s with as long as he gets sex. No. My fantasy is that I meet a guy I instantly connect with and have major chemistry with and we do it without any thought or reservations. We act on pure instinct, like those scenes in the movies where two people meet and have such a strong attraction to each other that they throw caution to the wind and act on their urges.
Unfortunately, I’m not good at throwing caution to the wind. There’s always this part of me holding me back, telling me not to do it. I fight that part of me and yet it always seems to win out.
Maybe that’s why I keep hanging out with Megan. I’m hoping her free spirit will rub off on me. So far it hasn’t, but I recently promised myself that before the summer ends, I’ll do at least one thing that’s outside my comfort zone.
This promise was inspired a few weeks ago by a girl in my speech class. She talked about seizing the day, going after what you want. I’m sure the rest of the class thought the speech was cheesy and a total cliché but I actually found it inspiring. Although I’m very rational and realistic in my everyday life, I also have a dreamy, head-in-the-clouds side, so that girl’s speech ignited a spark in me, inspiring me to go for it. To do something I’ve always wanted to do without letting my rational side stop me.
“Amber?” a girl says from beside me. I turn and see it’s Reese, a girl I worked with last March at the women’s business expo downtown. We were both volunteers at a booth for an organization that promotes women in marketing. We’re both marketing majors but at different colleges.
“Reese.” I smile, happy to see someone I know. “How have you been?”
“Great! How about you?”
“Good. Just finished a week of finals so I’m exhausted.”
“Yeah, me too. You heading home for the summer?”
“No, I’m staying here and working and taking a couple classes.”
She glances behind her. “Well, I just wanted to say hi. I’m here with my boyfriend so I should probably get back to him.”
“Yeah, okay. See ya later.” I was hoping she’d stick around so we could talk.
“Sorry,” a guy says as he bumps into me, trying to squeeze through the crowd.
People keep bumping into me. I should go stand somewhere else but there aren’t any open spaces. Looking to my left I spot Alex with a girl. He’s still got that looking-for-sex smile and so does she.
Well, there you go. A match is made. There’s someone for everyone, at least for a night.
Maybe I should leave. The only two people I know here are hanging out with their guys and I’m feeling awkward standing here by myself.
As I contemplate this, my eyes wander to the front door.
And that’s when I see him.
Tall. Dark hair. Dark eyes. A strong jaw and pronounced cheekbones that give him that pretty boy, model look. Like a rich, prep school boy. He steps into the room, his eyes scanning the crowd. His eyes are brooding. Mysterious. Hot.
Thump, thump. Thump, thump. That’s my heart, beating so loud it’s thumping in my eardrums. I don’t know who this guy is but he’s got my heart shifted into overdrive.
I can’t look away. There’s something about him. Is it his face? His eyes?
Oh no, he just saw me. He saw me staring at him! And now he’s staring back! This is so embarrassing and yet I can’t look away. His eyes are piercing through me, like they’re willing mine to stay connected to his. He takes a step toward me, his lips slightly parted, almost like he’s saying something to me.
Do I know this guy? Does he know me? And if not, why do I feel this odd connection to him? And why is my heart beating so freaking fast?
Our eyes remain locked as he makes his way over to me. When he finally reaches me, I’m unable to say anything. I just keep staring at him. Those brooding eyes. Those lips. He has perfect lips. And his jaw. It’s strong, angular, with a thin layer of scruff.
“What’s your name?” he asks. I love his voice. It’s smooth. Deep. Sexy.
I pause, suddenly unable to remember my name. What the hell? What’s my damn name?
“Amber,” I blurt out. “My name is Amber.” I’m so breathless my words come out in almost a whisper. I finally break my gaze from his and look down, embarrassed that I’m acting so strange.
“Amber,” he says, not like he’s confirming what he heard but more like he’s saying my name aloud to himself. And when he said it, I could feel his breath on my face. That’s how close we’re standing.
I swallow and close my eyes for a moment, trying to make sense of this, trying to get myself together, because what’s happening right now? It’s surreal.
I feel his hand under my chin as he slowly lifts my face back to his. I open my eyes and see him watching me. Whatever this is I’m feeling, he’s feeling it too. I can sense it. There’s this incredibly strong attraction between us that makes absolutely no logical sense. This can’t be real, can it? Am I drunk? I only had a few sips of punch. I don’t feel drunk.
Yet I feel an intense urge to kiss this guy. A complete stranger.
As if he read my mind, his hand gently cups the side of my face and he leans down and kisses me. His soft, warm lips press gently against mine and a shiver of pleasurable sensations ripple through me from head to toe.
The feeling takes me by surprise and I tense up. He notices and lets me go.
He backs away, his dark brown eyes returning to mine. He looks regretful for what he did. Actually, not regretful, but more like he knew he shouldn’t have done that, but isn’t sorry that he did. He went with his gut. Followed his urges. Did what felt right in the moment.
I wish I could be like that. But who says I can’t? Nobody, except me. I’m the only one standing in my way.
Seize the day. Seize the moment. The words from that girl’s speech yell at me inside my head. This is my chance. This is my opportunity to do that one bold thing that’s outside my comfort zone. To do what I want. To act on my instincts.
The decision is made. I’m doing this.
Want to keep reading? One Night is available now!
Bonus Sneak Peek
Still Love You, A Friends to Lovers Romance
Chapter One of Still Love You, a standalone new adult romance, available now in ebook and paperback!
Willow
I cannot believe Silas is standing in my dorm room. Driving me home. Back to Berkeley. Where he is now living…and working for my dad! How could my dad hire him? Out of all the people he could’ve chosen, he had to pick Silas?
What is Silas even doing here? He’s supposed to be traveling the world, hiking up mountains, doing volunteer work.
“Willow?” He’s standing in front of me now. The door is closed and it’s just the two of us. His full lips—the ones I know so well because they’ve touched every single part of my body—slowly slide up into a smile. “Are you going to say something? Maybe a hello?”
I swallow, my eyes diverting back to his. “Oh, um, yes. Hello. Sorry. I’m just surprised to see you here.”
“I thought your parents told you I was moving back.”
“Yeah. They did. I just didn’t believe them.”
His eyes remain on mine. “Why wouldn’t you believe them?”
I glance away from him. “Because you have a history of not following through on things.”
I shouldn’t have said that. He just got here and I don’t want to start fighting with him before we even get in the car.
Silas and I used to fight about a lot of things. The fights were intense but short-lived, always ending in a passionate kiss, followed by clothes being ripped off and our bodies colliding. Just the thought of that has me sweating even more in this sweltering hot room.
“They turned the air off,” I say, fanning myself. “That’s why my room is so hot. I guess they thought we didn’t need it since everyone’s moving out today.”
Spring semester at Camsburg College just ended and half of the girls on my floor have already left for the summer. I was saying goodbye to my friend, Lilly, who lives next door, when Silas appeared. Months ago, my parents told me Silas might be moving back to Berkeley and working on their farm, but I never thought it would actually happen. Silas is a free spirit. He changes his mind all the time. He said he’d be in Europe for two weeks, but ended up being there for two years. I assumed he’d never come back.
My parents were supposed to pick me up today but instead they sent Silas. I’m sure this was all some ploy to get me to be friends with him again, or more than friends. My parents always liked Silas and wanted us to be together. But all good things must come to an end. And they did, the day he left.
“I don’t think it’s hot in here,” he says, “but I spent the past couple years working outside all day in some of the hottest regions on Earth, so this is nothing.”
I haven’t talked to Silas in two years. When he left, he told me he was going backpacking in Europe, but apparently he only did that for a couple weeks, then spent the rest of the time doing volunteer work. I only know that because my parents told me. They’re good friends with Silas’ parents.
“So you’ve been volunteering?” I ask, still fanning myself.
“Yeah. Building houses. Bridges. Planting crops. Mostly physical labor.”
I can tell. God, he looks good. All muscle. He was always lean, with defined shoulder and ab muscles that come from surfing. But now? His shoulders are wider, his arms bigger. He looks older, more like a man than the teen boy I remember. His jawline is sharper, more defined, and covered with a thin layer of stubble.
It’s feeling even hotter in here. Did they turn on the heat? Or why is it so hot? And why am I the only one sweating? Silas isn’t sweating. He seems perfectly comfortable. And he’s wearing jeans! Jeans are heavy and hot. I’m wearing a short red cotton sundress with cutouts in the back. I should feel cool. But instead, I’m on fire. Maybe it’s early menopause. Maybe this is a hot flash. At 19? Probably not.
I need to face facts. I’m burning up inside because the man I was in love with—the man who turns my insides into hot molten lava—is standing before me, looking even better than I remember.
“Should we get going?” he asks. “The truck is parked right outside.”
“Your mom got a truck?” I ask, shocked that his mom would drive something that uses that much gas.
“No, it’s mine. It’s not brand new. It’s a couple years old.
Anyway, it’s still cool from the air conditioning. I’ll get it running again and you could wait out there while I load up your stuff.”
“You used the air conditioning?” I ask, shocked again. Silas comes from a family of hippies, as do I. Both our families believe in embracing what nature gives us, which means if it’s hot outside, you suck it up. They’re always trying to conserve energy, and since air conditioning uses gas, a natural resource that’s dwindling in supply, they refuse to use it.
I’m all for conserving energy, but I don’t like sweating and feeling like I’m going to pass out, so I have no problem running the air conditioning.
“I know you don’t like the heat,” Silas says, “so I made sure to cool down the truck before I got here.”
“Thanks.” I smile.
His gaze pauses on my lips. Silas always liked my smile. He said it was what made him want to be friends with me when we met on the first day of second grade.
“No problem,” he says.
We both keep staring at each other. It makes sense that I would stare at him. He’s changed a lot since I saw him last. But me? I look pretty much the same.
Our eyes meet again. I’ve always loved Silas’ eyes. In fact, I’m jealous of them. They’re this rich turquoise blue that doesn’t even look real. If I saw them in a photo, I’d think they were doctored to look that color. But no, his eyes are actually that color, surrounded by thick black lashes, which I am also envious of.
I need to stop this. I can’t be around him all summer and act like this. I admit there’s still something between us. A spark. An energy. An undeniable attraction. But I need to ignore it. We both do.
Game On: A Sports Romance Box Set Page 85