by D. Laine
4
THEA
“Now that would be an excellent way to get over Kyle.”
I peeled my gaze away from the guy sitting at the bar to give my roommate a dark look. “I am over Kyle, Vivian. I’ve been over Kyle.”
“Yeah, okay. Whatever.” She waved dismissively. “But hooking up with the guy that just kicked his ass into next week will really drive home the message. Besides . . .” She turned to sweep an appreciative gaze over the mysterious stranger from the parking lot. “He looks like he’d be a god in bed. It would be a nice reward for finally ditching your psycho boyfriend.”
I nearly choked on my Jack and Coke. “You can tell he’s good in bed just from looking at him?”
“Girl, I’ve hooked up with enough guys to recognize a good lay when I see one.”
I sipped on my drink while I quietly observed him from a safe distance. He was gorgeous—in a dangerous kind of way. Dressed in a black hooded sweatshirt, it appeared that he wanted to blend into the background tonight. His shortly cropped hair screamed of military experience. He certainly carried himself like a guy trained to kill with his bare hands. Probably special forces, or something like that. Observant light-green eyes—surprisingly observant considering the number of times the bartender had refilled his drink.
He had hinted at having a bad couple of days so that certainly explained the speed at which he tossed them back. His frustration had most definitely been taken out on my ex-boyfriend. He certainly didn’t seem bothered by the fact that Kyle Davenport—MSU’s notorious party boy and fraternity row leader—had been left bruised and bloody in the parking lot fifteen minutes ago. His finger flicked at the rusty brown stain on his pant leg, which was likely a drop of Kyle’s blood, with annoyance and not an ounce of regret.
Not that Kyle hadn’t deserved the beat down. Only his reputation as the campus enforcer had kept him from getting his ass kicked sooner. That and the fact that most of the guys around here were scared of him now.
Kyle hadn’t always been an asshole. I noticed the drastic change the first week back from summer break, after not seeing him for nearly three months. His temperament had only gotten worse in the two weeks since then, and culminated in me breaking off our one-year long, off-and-on relationship for good.
His denial, and persistence in winning me back, was embarrassing. He deserved a bit of humility. For the first time in the three years I’d known him, I witnessed him get dealt a heavy dose of it.
“I’m telling you, Thea,” Vivian droned on. “Look. He’s here alone. That means he’s looking to hook up tonight. Perfect opportunity to put this outfit I picked out for you to the test.”
At her mention of the cursed outfit, I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. Skin-tight jeans and a top two sizes too small wasn’t my preferred choice in ensemble. I’d let her dress me only to appease her. She was on a mission: help me get over Kyle by sleeping with someone else. Her persistence was nearly as bad as Kyle’s.
“No offense, Viv, but I’m not looking to hook up with anyone,” I countered. “Let alone someone who could—”
“Make you orgasm over and over and over again? Yeah, what was I thinking?” She threw her hands up and shifted her gaze over my shoulder. “Right, Davey?”
I shot Vivian a warning glare as my friend, David Banks, approached our table cautiously. From his red-tinted cheeks and the uncomfortable grimace on his face, I assumed he’d overheard the tail end of Vivian’s statement.
“Always a pleasure to see you, Vivian,” he mocked.
“Wish I could say the same,” she fired back.
“I wish I actually meant it,” he muttered before turning to me with a bright smile. “Hey, Thea. Need another drink?”
“You bet!” I chugged down most of what was left in my glass—anything to separate these two.
His smile grew. “Come up to the bar with me?”
“Sure.” I slid from my seat to follow David and found my legs to be a little on the rubbery side. I feared it was going to be a long night.
Vivian caught my arm as I started past her. Her eyes narrowed on me. “If you waste your post-breakup, wild sexcapade on him, I will never speak to you again.”
I yanked my arm out of her grasp. Casting a glance over my shoulder to ensure David was out of earshot, I snapped, “You know I don’t look at him like that.”
She sat back with a huff. “God, I hope not.”
“Be nice. He’s a good guy, and he’s my friend,” I reminded her.
Her dismissive shrug didn’t give me a lot of hope, but I didn’t feel like pushing her for more reassurance. I knew I wouldn’t get it.
I plastered on a smile as I joined a clueless David at the bar. I’d met him freshman year, in the core English class everyone was required to take. After buddying up for a group project, we’d been friends ever since. Though I’d long suspected the crush he had developed on me, I had never returned his affection beyond a friendship level.
It was safe to say our feelings for each other were not mutual.
While David tried to grab the attention of the busy bartender, my attention wasn’t on him, but on the occupant of the bar stool a few inches to my left. Of course, David had positioned us directly beside the guy from the parking lot.
He was even more alluring up close. My body reacted to his presence with a confusing combination of anxiety and intrigue. I wanted to rub my hands across the day-old stubble on his jaw, and run as fast as I could in the opposite direction.
I blamed Vivian for the war raging in my head. Maybe if she hadn’t labeled him an obvious sex god, I wouldn’t be so intimidated by him right now. Or maybe it was that very suggestion that intrigued me.
David cast me a small smile over his shoulder as he tried in vain to flag down the bartender. To my right, Vivian waved her arms while mouthing the words “go for it.” I shook my head at her, and pulled my shoulders back in defiance.
I wasn’t going to talk to him because she wanted me to. I wasn’t going to do anything I didn’t want to, and I most certainly wasn’t going to take some guy I didn’t know home with me.
I pretended not to notice when his head rolled in my direction as I finished the last of my drink. I felt his eyes on me when I stepped between his seat and David to lay my empty glass on the bar. He’d noticed me—possibly recognized me from the parking lot—and I felt required to say something. A simple “hi” didn’t equate an invitation into my bed—as Vivian suggested.
“I’m sorry, Thea,” David breathed into my ear. “Looks like they’re understaffed tonight.”
“It’s fine. I’m not in any hurry.”
“I’m going to . . .” David pushed onto his toes, and peered around the island of liquor bottles in the center of the bar. “It doesn’t look to be as busy over there. I’ll be right back.”
He quickly darted toward the other side of the bar, where a waitress was busy taking orders. Seconds later, the bartender set two matching drinks on the counter in front of the guy from the parking lot.
He wordlessly slid one of the glasses toward me. My eyes darted to his in surprise, and he shrugged. “You look thirsty.”
I picked up the glass with a grateful smile, and helped myself to a sip of the cool liquid. Jack and Coke—exactly what I wanted. He was observant. “Thank you.”
As he nodded, his eyes moved over my shoulder, in the general vicinity of Vivian. A small grin tugged at the corner of his lips. He glanced up at me briefly before giving undivided attention to his drink. “How’s your boyfriend?”
“Who? You mean the guy from earlier?”
“Well, I’m not talking about him.” His head nodded across the bar, where David was doing his best to catch the waitress’s attention. “That poor fucker doesn’t stand a chance, does he?”
“David is my friend,” I responded defensively. “And Kyle isn’t my boyfriend. You’re wrong on both counts.”
His eyes snapped to mine, then slowly lowered. Heat followed his gaze as it
swept across my lips before settling on my neck. I was forced to sweep the hair off my shoulders in an attempt to cool off. It didn’t help.
He squinted at my neck like he considered devouring me right then and there. With the hot ball of lava tumbling through me, and ultimately settling in my core, I considered letting him. One look. That was all it took.
No guy had ever . . .
Oh, God. Vivian was totally right.
His mouth curved like he had read my thoughts. Then his hand shot out to mine as he stated, “Dylan.”
I accepted his hand with a smile. “Thea.”
His head angled closer to mine. “Thea?” When I nodded, he leaned back with a smirk. “Are you a librarian, or something?”
“What?” I demanded, suddenly on edge.
“Hot librarian,” he corrected with a lazy shrug, as if that somehow made his comment less insulting. At my unamused glare, he used his hand to cover the smile spreading across his face, and muttered, “I’m sorry. I don’t think I’ve ever met a Thea before. It’s, uh . . .”
“A librarian’s name, apparently,” I finished for him sourly.
He chuckled. “I like it, alright? I do. In fact, you’ve given me a new standard to associate with the name Thea. Next time I hear it, I won’t imagine a ninety-year-old librarian. I’ll picture you instead.”
He somehow made me like the sound of him thinking about me, despite the example he used. Some small, gullible part of me liked it. The rest of me reared back with revulsion.
“Need to picture me to get you through the night, huh?” I quipped.
His lips pursed as he considered my question. Then a broad grin turned his lips up. “Never really gone for a good girl before. Unless it’s an act . . .” His eyes swept down the length of me with obvious interest, and I folded my arms over my chest to interrupt his uncensored gaze. When he finally made it back to my eyes, he hooked an inquisitive brow.
“It’s not an act,” I stated firmly, “and I don’t play games.”
He shook his head at the counter, and muttered, “I didn’t think so.”
“Not like it would matter anyway.” My eyes lowered to his lap in mock consideration, then to the drink in front of him. “You’ve had so many of those, I doubt you could even play your part at this point.”
Dylan’s head rolled back as a deep laugh rumbled through him. I refused to acknowledge how sexy it sounded.
“First of all . . .” He lifted a finger in the air. “I’m always up to playing my part. Got it?” I kept my arms folded, my face unreadable, as he lifted another finger. “Secondly . . . I find it interesting that you know how much I’ve had to drink tonight.”
My arms slowly uncrossed under his amused and knowing gaze. His eyebrows shot up in silent inquiry, and when I offered no explanation, his grin broadened.
“I thought so.” With a flirty wink, he turned in his seat to face the bar.
Mortification shot through me. He knew I had noticed him. He knew I had been watching him. What were the chances he had heard my conversation with Vivian? She had one of those voices that carried. Annoying as hell to live with at times. Downright humiliating now.
I barely noticed when Dylan pushed to his feet—not until his warm breath danced across the sensitive spot behind my ear. He didn’t touch me, but I felt him. His presence enveloped me as he hovered behind me.
“Just so you know, Thea,” he whispered into my ear, “I noticed you, too.”
My knees wobbled, forcing me to press my palms to the bar for support. By the time I pulled myself together and managed to turn around, he was gone.
I’d let him get the last word. Dammit.
I caught Vivian’s eyes, and she pointed toward the exit. I looked just in time to watch Dylan’s broad shoulders slip through the door before he disappeared. I took a step to follow him, then skidded to a stop when David appeared in front of me with a drink in his hand. I accepted the drink—not Jack and Coke—with a polite smile.
I didn’t look at the door again. Nor did I see Dylan.
It only seemed fitting that I returned to my apartment alone an hour later, despite Vivian’s attempt to find me another man to get over Kyle. Her plan. Not mine. I didn’t need the extra motivation to forget that jerk.
After peeling off Vivian’s skintight clothes, I strolled through the missed messages on my phone. I skimmed over the many texts Kyle had sent this evening. I already knew that they would start off apologetic, then venture into sweet and reminiscent before taking a drastic turn into harsh and degrading. It was easier to ignore his mood swings.
I had one missed call from my mom. I played it on speakerphone as I finished dressing for bed in my favorite sleep shirt.
“Thea . . . it’s Mom. I was just wondering if you’ve seen the news this evening. Another earthquake in California. Your father’s been in the bunker all day, stocking up. We would feel so much better if you came home, where it’s safer. The world is becoming a dangerous place, honey. The end is nearly upon us. Please call us back. Remember, we love you. We only want you to be safe . . .”
I sighed as I settled into bed. Through the haze of alcohol, I mulled over my mother’s call. Her plea was one I’d heard repeatedly over the years, more so in the wake of the recent events that had plagued the world.
My parents—notorious doomsday preppers—considered every earthquake, tsunami, volcanic eruption, and declaration of war a sign of the end. I didn’t know what it was, other than a really bad string of global luck, but I wasn’t screaming apocalypse to anyone that would listen. Not like my parents and their circle of friends.
“Apocalypse” wasn’t a part of my vocabulary, despite being raised by parents that considered it inevitable.
5
DYLAN
I stood on the sidewalk, a block from the university, and stared up at a tall brick building that many would consider a mansion. On the broad face of the building were three Greek letters identical to the ones I’d seen on the shirt of the vessel Saturday night. Next door, four sorority girls reclined on the front yard of an equally massive house and soaked up the last of the sun before fall settled in.
I had been raised a fighter. Since the age of twelve, I knew I would lead a special life. Never before had I wished for a mundane existence—one that might have enabled me to live amongst the naïve and enjoy my short time on Earth without knowing how it would end. Never before had I wished to be a frat boy so that I could stare at girls that looked like that all damn day long, but it sure was tempting.
My gaze reluctantly swung away from the sunbathers at the sound of a car door slamming shut behind me. A guy approached with a duffel bag slung over his shoulders, the letters of the fraternity stitched into the front pocket.
“Hey, man!” I called to him as he veered toward the front door of the house. He slowed, and wrinkled his brow as I put a hand out. With growing confusion, he took my hand, and I proceeded to do the fist-bump, back slap combination all these college guys seemed to do.
“Hell of a party the other night,” I continued as I took a leading step toward the house.
He fell in beside me with a chuckle. “Yeah?”
“I’ve been meaning to thank you for that hookup you set up for me.”
“What hookup?”
“Ah, shit. I don’t remember her name,” I grumbled, then brightened with a grin. “But she was fun.”
He nodded. “Oh, yeah?”
“Hella fun. Anyway . . .” I turned to peer up at the house as we approached the door. “I was just coming by to talk to Kyle. He has something for me. I assume he’s home?”
The guy opened the door, and I breezed in behind him like I’d been in this house a hundred times. In the grand marble-floored foyer, he turned to me. “I thought Kyle had class this afternoon?”
“Shit. What time is it?” I pretended to survey my watch in confusion. “I swear he said he’d meet me here at four. I’ve got to have his part of our assignment to hand in by five. Maybe I can j
ust . . .” I veered in the direction of the large spiral staircase.
“Uh, I should probably check with Kyle first,” the guy said, stopping me.
“Yeah, no problem.” I whipped out my phone. “I’ll call him now. See if he’s out of class yet.”
I quickly pulled up Jake’s number, and hit CALL. Just once, I wouldn’t mind him letting it go to voice mail, but he answered on the first ring.
“What’s up?”
“Kyle?” I smiled at the guy watching me. “Hey, it’s Jon. You forget you were supposed to get me that assignment this afternoon?”
“Oh, Jesus,” Jake groaned through the speaker pressed to my ear. “What the hell are you doing now?”
“Ah, no, it’s all good. Shit happens, right?” I chuckled.
“I swear to God, Dylan, I will not break you out of jail again,” Jake muttered.
“Yeah? You don’t mind?” I paused for fake Kyle’s end of the conversation. “That’s great. I’ll tell . . .” I raised my eyebrows expectantly at the frat guy staring at me.
“Uh . . . Bobby,” he supplied anxiously.
“I’ll let Bobby know it’s cool with you,” I spoke into the phone.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” Jake grumbled.
“Nah, he’s been cool. Just watching your back.” I smiled reassuringly at Bobby as he fidgeted. “Yeah. Thanks again, man,” I added before disconnecting the call.
Bobby shrugged as I slid the phone into my pocket. “Alright. If Kyle said it’s cool, go ahead. Get what you need.” He backed up with a peculiar look on his face, and I figured he was trying to remember how he knew me. “I guess I’ll see you at the next party?”
“I’ll be here,” I proclaimed. When he turned his back to head into the lounge, where three other guys were playing a video game in their boxers, I muttered, “Idiot.”
I had actually bullshitted my way into the house. When I’d shown up ten minutes ago, I had no idea how I was going to get in. But even if I was in, I wasn’t out of the clear yet.