CHAPTER 2
“You comfy?”
I burrowed deeper into the down comforter, nodding at Slade in the darkness. Pale light filtered through the blinds, hitting Slade’s face in all the right places. His cheekbone flashed white in the gloom. The hollows of his cheeks were shadowed, but when his eyes moved, they glinted.
I lay against the pillows as he looked down at me, propped up on his elbow.
Even after one year together, I still couldn’t believe he was mine.
He grazed his hand across my temple. “I can’t tell you how happy I am you’re here.”
I smiled. “Even if I brought my crazy sidekick with me?”
He shifted so he was on top of me and both his arms were framing my body. “Nah, I’m glad Lara’s here. I didn’t want you to be lonely.”
I wrapped my arms around his bare waist, exploring those agile muscles again. “We’re both going to have to get used to this, aren’t we?”
“No kidding. You know I’m already signing autographs? I’m already being recognized?”
I smacked him on the back. “You were signing autographs at USC! Everyone knew where you were going. You broke too many records not to go somewhere.”
His hot breath tickled my cheek as he said, “As long as you go somewhere with me.”
Slade lowered his head so his nose touched mine, and he moved it back and forth before he kissed me.
I held him tighter. The taste of him rode along my tongue as I brought my hand to the back of his neck and coaxed him deeper. He moved his lips to my jawline and groaned, his voice vibrating down my neck and sending tingles along its trail.
Our breath mixed, getting heavier, and our bodies moved in that familiar synch I’d ached for since the day he left. He smoothed his hand down my side, causing a shimmering zing when he hit the point between my hips and my ribs and moved down. Ticklish pleasure raced across my skin, and my head dropped against the pillow. My lips parted against his as my back arched and his fingers moved in that rhythm he knew so well.
Soon, Slade’s body was shining in the moonlight, and we turned into nothing but flashes of sweat-coated limbs in the navy dark, our breaths louder than the city noises outside.
When a car honked, the endless shriek of a car alarm followed suit, and our sounds changed to laughter—his more frustrated than charmed.
I was straddling him, so he rose up and pulled me closer.
“Come on, finish with me,” he whispered against my ear, his fingers conjuring that amazing tingle again.
I forgot about the road rage outside.
“I love you, Char,” he said, his hands tangling in my hair as I lay sprawled on top of him.
“I think it goes without saying,” I said, exhaling heavily through my words, “but I love you, too.”
Out of all the women who wanted him, of all the opportunities laid out for him, he’d chosen me. I pictured the moment I met him like a teen movie—I was at my first college party and he picked me out of a crowd. He noticed me across the room, ignoring the short skirts and gorgeous limbs of the other women swirling around him. He lifted his chin so he could see over their suddenly inconsequential heads and elbowed his friend. “Who’s that blonde over there? Why haven’t I seen her before?”
And then there was me, looking up from my expert dance moves, my hair tangled in that amazingly undone way, no greasy snarls sticking to the wet gloss of my lips. Of course my sweat was just a slight sheen across my glowing cheeks, carrying the scent of a vanilla-infused beach. And I fell in love in an instant.
Slade met my eyes, capturing me. The music faded into a sweet and earnest instrumental as he made his way over in a spellbound daze.
Yeah.
That didn’t happen.
“You remember when we first met?” I asked.
His chest shook with laughter. “How could I not? You puked on me.”
“It’s not my fault you walked into the trajectory!”
“Your ‘trajectory,’ as you call it, was in the middle of the living room.”
I groaned, hiding my face against his chest. He patted my head. “Hey, you were the most beautiful girl there.”
“Or the most drunk one.”
He laughed. “Seriously, Char, you were the one girl who hadn’t talked to me. The only person who hadn’t even looked at me during the entire party. It was like I was nothing but an average guy.”
I lifted my head. “Yikes, I sound like a bitch.”
He rubbed the pad of his thumb across my chin. “No. You were just…normal. Something I hadn’t seen in a long time.”
He wasn’t wrong, but he wasn’t entirely right, either. When Lara and I went to that frat party celebrating Labor Day, I think, or maybe just celebrating nothing and partying anyway, I’d heard of him, but I’d never spoken to him before, never mind been within five feet of him.
We’d decided to go on a whim, more out of curiosity than craving. I was a nerd who focused more on studies and GPA than on recreational activities. Not surprisingly, Lara was the opposite, and she dragged me to these things, usually when I was drunk because she pressured me into taking shots before going anywhere.
“I love when I bring Charles out to play,” she always said before shoving a shot glass at my lips, and I’d sputter and cough after I swallowed her liquor du jour.
She’d happily named my drunk alter ego Charles, and she was the only one who could call me that and get away with it. That night, she’d been determined to get Charles to make an appearance.
“You’ve been studying, and school hasn’t even started yet,” she said, pouring another shot of vodka. “This is our last year of college. Please be fun this year.”
She held out the glass, making sure to give me her best lonely kitten sad face. She even threw in a trembling lower lip.
Lara was right. I’d been a hobbit. No, I’d been Gollum. Trapped in the caverns, studying my precious books while college moved on without me. In Lara’s presence, with her perfectly straight raven hair and her gorgeous, toned body slinked into a tight black dress, I was, for a painful moment, envious.
I’d never wanted to compete with Lara in the looks department before. It was a new feeling, and I nearly toppled under the weight of it. I was twenty-one and I hadn’t even lived a life. God, I was still a virgin. College was ending, and I hadn’t made those memories everyone always talks about years later, usually tipsy and lamenting the amazing shit they did during their glory years.
I couldn’t even lay claim to spring break memories.
I’m not sure what made me feel that way, but in a moment of revelation, I saw nothing but naps, sweatpants, binge-streaming and conversations with Google flash before my eyes.
“You know what?” I said. “You’re right.”
“Really?” Vodka splashed over the rim of the glass as she twisted toward me.
I snatched the shot and knocked it back. Wincing but proud I wasn’t coughing, I said, “Really. Let’s fucking do this.”
“Holy shit, who abducted you?”
“Funny.”
“No, seriously, was it Martians?”
“Lara—”
“Were you probed?”
“Lara!”
She shrugged, poured herself another shot, and sipped it as she would expensive champagne from a flute. “Had to ask, considering it’s highly probable I’m talking to a mutant host at the helm of your brain right now.”
I spread out my arms in submission. “Shut up and do it.”
She raised a brow. “Are you sure about this? I know this is a big step.”
I closed my eyes, nodding. “I know. Do it before I lose my nerve.”
She reached behind her to her nightstand and pulled open the drawer. Clinking sounds came from its depths as she rummaged. Plastic smacked against other objects and she mumbled unintelligible words before saying, “Aha!”
She lifted a spare cosmetics bag. I wouldn’t even blink in surprise if someone told me she’d hidd
en such plastic baggies around campus for any time she was hit by a creative whim and a muse was near.
“This won’t hurt a bit,” she said, already bending over me with a sharp weapon-utensil thing.
When we’d arrived at the party, I felt like a different person—all tight clothing and enhanced makeup—but looking H-O-T, according to Lara. I was in some sort of navy sequined miniskirt and flowing, off-the-shoulder white top. Lara’s platform heels anchored me. I towered over the freshman as we made our tipsy-whipsy way to the door. Those shots were doing their job.
When we entered, he was already there.
The area he occupied was almost in a different universe given the way he changed the atmosphere. People were hushed but smiling wide. They turned his way constantly but pretended to be looking at something else before going back to their friends and whispering. In his group, he was comfortable, his shoulders relaxed, his smile easy. He was laughing and gesturing with a cup in his hand.
I glanced at him once and then told myself never to look at him again.
He was someone I’d only read about in print or watched on television. He was a bachelor; he was a playboy. I knew from that one peek. If I ever came within a few feet of him, I’d tear off my clothes like every other college girl who’d heard the name Jason Sladerman and seen the face that came with it.
I also knew he was, without a doubt, way out of my orbit. Way, way out of my solar system.
Slade was on the fast track to stardom. He’d been nominated for the acclaimed Heisman Trophy, and eventually won. He’d been breaking football records with his unpredictable methods, and he’d also been sleeping around and generally living a fabulous life. He was even rumored to have dated a Victoria’s Secret model whom he dumped after two months.
Lara’s gaze brushed over him without pausing, which wasn’t surprising. She was unconcerned with quarterbacks or football or sports unless someone’s shirt was ripped off.
I took on the same air, remembering my goal: be a different person and embrace Charles.
Lara snatched my hand and led me to the room where most of the booze was. She picked up two bottles and started making some sort of drink for us. I let her, knowing she was way better at this sort of stuff than I was. I took the drink she offered and gulped it down.
“Another.”
Lara chortled—actually chortled—at me. “What is this? Are you determined to lose your virginity tonight or something?”
I shushed her, horrified, even though the music was pounding. “No! I mean I just want to have fun.”
After mixing another concoction, she handed it to me. “Just wait until tomorrow, honey. That’ll show you what fun is.”
Ignoring her, I gulped down the sugary sweet liquid. And the next. Suddenly, the party became awesome.
I danced, I laughed, and I made friends, though if you asked me, I’d never be able to tell you their names. Lara stayed at my side, shaking her head but enjoying every minute of Charles’s appearance.
“I’d been keeping my eye on you, you know, ever since you walked in. Watching you laugh like there was nothing holding you back.”
I blinked, remembering where I was—lying on top of Slade. Naked, sweaty, and satisfied.
“I think I was laughing because I had two gallons of vodka sloshing around inside me,” I said.
“No. There was something about you. Once I got past those legs of yours.” He rested his hand against my cheek. “Not once did you look at me. It wasn’t something I was used to.”
“Cocky bastard.”
“You know what I mean.” He laughed. “How it was. But with you, man. I came within inches of you, even caught your eye, and still nothing. No spark of recognition, no smile…”
“Just glazed over and cross-eyed?” I lifted my head again. “Probably because you were blurry.”
He tickled my side and I laughed, elbowing his hands out of the way.
“I considered you a challenge,” he said.
Funny, because I’d known exactly who he was when he stepped close to me that night. My body had gone rigid as if a cop pointed a gun at me and yelled at me to get on the ground.
But with Charles at the wheel, I schooled my face, trying to channel a nonchalant expression, which was probably more vague and lopsided than anything that could be called casual.
But still, I’d caught his interest. Somehow. By some strange twist of fate.
That was until my stomach lurched and I latched onto his biceps for balance. And then puked on his chest.
I groaned, remembering the humiliation. The whole room had gone silent. The whole. Fucking. Room.
All I heard, all I registered, was the pulse of the music and a resounding “Oh shiiiit,” from somewhere in the back.
“That could have gone two ways,” I said to Slade, settling the sheets around our bodies. “And I’m still surprised which way it went.”
He didn't curse or push me into the crowd or yell at someone to get this tanked chick off him. He just stood there, holding my arms as be bent and said quietly, “Are you okay?”
My head was bowed, my face bright, bright red. I couldn’t meet his eyes. Even drunk, I felt the horror of what I’d done. Hearing his voice and the knowledge behind it—he was aware of how humiliated I was. And like a decent and kind human being, he didn’t want to shame me further.
I fell in love with him right then. I was sure of it.
“Come on,” he’d said, his voice hushed in the now-silent room.
I was praying at that point. For Lara, who I’d somehow lost, for my soul, which had shrunk down two sizes inside me, for the chance that this wouldn’t make front-page campus news the next day. I didn’t notice when he tore off his shirt and finally broke the horrifying soundlessness in the room. A type of atmosphere that should never happen at a party unless, of course, someone did something so shocking people were rendered speechless. Oh wait, that was me.
Claps and catcalls spread throughout the room as he tossed his shirt aside. He put on a show for them, nodding and waving, yet still somehow managing to be bashful, before he put his arm around me and led me out of the room with my head ducked as low as it could go without tripping over my feet.
“You don’t have to do this,” I whispered to him as he ushered me into the bathroom. I realized then how close I was to tears.
“I want to,” he said, yanking a towel off the rod and holding a section of it under the water. Once it was damp enough, he dabbed it around my mouth.
Ashamed, I took it from him. “Really. You don’t. I threw up on you.”
One side of his mouth lifted up. “Don’t I know it.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.” He leaned against the counter, using another towel to clean his chest as I tried to disappear against the wall.
“Shit happens,” he said. “It’s okay. Honestly.”
I fought the urge to gnaw nervously on a fistful of cotton. “Why are you being so nice about it? I mean, you’re you. I’m me—nobody.”
“Did you want me to yell at you instead? Laugh at you?” When a mortified sound left my throat, he said, “I have two little brothers I helped raise. I’m used to dealing with puke.”
He tossed his towel over the sink and stepped closer. I swear he gave off heat, sparks of fire bursting against my skin the nearer he drew.
“Just because people consider me someone, it doesn’t mean I want the people around me to turn into no one,” he said, his brows drawing over his eyes. “Sorry. Overshare.”
I lowered the damp towel from my mouth, no longer feeling the need to hide my face in it and just barely suppressed my mind’s urge to quip, well, I sure overshared on you. “You’re not.”
“You just, I don’t know. Out there you seemed so…sweet. Genuine.” He paused, as though where he was going with this confused him.
“Really?” I held the towel back up to my lips, frowning. The shift in balance had me stumbling sideways against
the wall, and he caught my elbow. “Careful there.”
I glared at the wall, daring it to move again.
“Here,” he said, resting me against the bathroom sink and holding his hands out on either side of me just in case I fell askew once more. But the countertop was smooth and sturdy, and my stormy stomach was better for it. Bending over the sink and cupping my hand under the tap to rinse out my mouth—which, holy shit, I should’ve done immediately upon being in a closed-in environment with him—I nearly choked on the cold water.
He cocked his head. “Are you—do you need to go over to the toilet?”
“No, I’m fine. Went down the wrong way,” I said before mumbling into the sink, “This is what I get for channeling my inner bad girl.”
“Oh?” He smirked, no doubt refreshing himself on my knee-raising, hip-jerking, roof-raising moves on the makeshift dance floor, but it wasn’t unkind. It was more as though I amused him to no end. “How’s that working out for you?”
“I hate it.”
“Good...because I’m thinking this girl right here is pretty cool.” He flashed his dimples, and I stared at them, wondering why I enjoyed dimples so much, especially when they were on his face. He lowered his chin to come closer. “I’m trying to figure out whether you like me or hate me.”
I burst into laughter and straightened from the sink. I wasn’t sure if he was feeding me lines or allowing himself to be vulnerable or if I was dreaming up this whole scenario and my mind was just being an asshole to me.
“I’m still trying to process my situation right now. Like I’m in a bathroom with a shirtless star quarterback who I just puked on.”
I pressed my lips together hard, flushing. It seemed as though Charles hadn’t gone to bed yet.
He smiled slowly. “You have a really nice laugh, you know that? You make this cute little sound with your nose at the beginning.”
“Oh God.” This gorgeous specimen was in a private bathroom with me, half-naked, talking about my snort.
With him standing so near, the dark indigo rim of his blue eyes was startlingly apparent, as well as the whites of his teeth, and even the glistening tip of his tongue. Then my mind went to all sorts of things that tongue could do, and I flushed a brighter red.
He pushed a damp tendril of hair off my forehead, his fingers activating nerves I never knew existed. Tentatively, I smiled back.
When Lara’s voice cut through the air, followed by her pounding surprisingly strong fists against the door, I was reminded where I was, my stomach adding to my reality by gurgling its queasiness.
“You better not be pawing at her!” she shrieked. “Open the damn door!”
I backed away from the sink and leaned against the wall as I groaned. “And it begins…”
Slade turned and unlocked the door, stepping out of the way before Lara fell in, her hair tangling in her face.
Flicking the strands out of the way, she gasped at the sight of his naked torso. “Get your shirt on, asshole!”
I balked. “Lara!”
Slade just looked at her, bemused.
“He wasn’t doing anything,” I said. “He was just helping me.”
“You’re okay?” Slade asked me.
All I could do was nod. He took all the words from my mouth.
“Good. I’ll, uh...I’ll see you around, okay?” He slipped past Lara with his hands up in surrender before he walked out the door and shut it quietly behind him. I heard the whistles start up again.
“Sports wonks,” Lara grumbled as she adjusted herself.
“He…”
Lara raised her eyes to me. “What’s that, mumbles?”
“He didn’t get my name,” was all I could say before my knees went out from underneath me and I retched. That time I’d aimed correctly and hid my face inside the toilet.
Almost one year ago.
I couldn’t believe it all happened eleven months ago. I was a different person, less naïve and speechless, somewhat more confident with the odd flight of idiocy. It was as if I was remembering another Charlie, someone far removed from who I was now.
Slade’s light snores reached my ears, and I realized he was fast asleep, his arms still wrapped around me, the heat of his chest sinking into my cheek.
I turned my head and kissed his collarbone before I closed my eyes, feeling more secure than I’d ever felt in my entire life.
SNAPPED: Part 1 Page 3