Blissful Valentine: A Novella

by Amy L. Gale

  He sips his beer. “Who knows, maybe you’ll see it sometime.”

  A series of tingles jolt through my body. Never know—maybe I will meet Dean’s family sometime. I mean, assuming I can get through tonight. I stare at his smooth skin and chiseled jaw line, his cheeks tinged with just the slightest pink hue leading up to those deep blue eyes you can get lost in forever.

  “Let’s get ready to rumble. Beer Pong battle!” Tom screams through the megaphone, breaking my trance.

  Lexie tiptoes on her high-heeled boots trying to keep up with Tom. She stands in front of the beer pong table, staggering and swaying. Oh god, she’s actually playing.

  I stand up and turn toward Dean, gently tugging on our cuffs. “I’ve gotta be her cheerleader.”

  He rises from the couch and stands next me. “I’ll give the play-by-play.”

  We walk to the middle of the table and Dean takes the megaphone from Tom. “Round one. Tom and Lexie versus Olivia and Trevor.”

  Lexie rocks on her heels, swaying back and forth like she’s on an Alaskan fishing boat. Seriously? How the hell did she get wasted this fast?

  “You can’t be drunk already.”

  She twirls her hair around her finger with her free hand and lets out a slight giggle. “Not drunk, buzzed. We were doing shots with Trevor and Olivia.”

  Well, this round won’t last long, especially with Lexie’s superb drinking skills. I look over at Dean and shake my head. He shrugs and holds the megaphone to his mouth. “Rules are, no bouncing. The ball has to go directly into the cup. Ready… Go.”

  Lexie tosses the ball forward with all her might. It hits me square in the nose. I grimace. Oh, she is going to pay for that one. I rub my nose with my free hand.

  “Oops,” she mutters and she grips the end of the table for balance.

  Tom tosses two balls, landing each one in a cup as if he’s a professional in the sport. Olivia and Trevor make all four balls. Tom pushes two cups of beer toward Lexie and takes two cups for himself.

  “Bottoms up.” Tom raises his cups toward Lexie.

  “I think she’s had enough.” I step to the side, as far as my cuffs will allow, and hold her arm.

  “Rules are rules!” Tom shouts and slams both beers, crushing the cups.

  Now I remember why I hate frat parties. Nothing but testosterone- and alcohol-filled events in which men act like cavemen and women demean themselves to allowing it. Please let me make it through this unscathed.

  Lexie gestures for me with her finger. “You got to uncuff me,” she slurs, “before I puke all over.”

  I dig in my pocket for one of the spare keys and quickly unlatch Tom and Lexie’s handcuff.

  “Hey, what gives?” Tom snarls.

  “It’s this or puke all over you.” I scowl. He’s kind of an asshole. What does she see in him anyway?

  Tom raises his hand, the open cuff hanging down, and grabs the megaphone. “My partner bailed. Who wants the job?”

  Tanya Layton rises from the chair on the other side of the room. She raises her hands, no cuffs. I sweep my eyes over the room. That sneaky bitch. Randy leans on the chair, handcuffed to the spokes. His eyes are only small slits and his mouth has fallen open, exposing a small amount of drool.

  “Alright a taker.” Tom slams a beer and hooks the cuff on Tanya.

  She runs her nose along his cheek, planting a small kiss near his ear. What a whore! Tom grabs her by the waist and hoists her up on the beer pong table. The cups slide along the table, beer swooshing over the rim and spilling onto the green surface. He slams his lips against hers and reaches up to fondle her breast.

  Lexie walks in at that exact moment. She gasps and covers her face with her hands. “Bastard!” she screams. Her hands slowly slide down, exposing her tear-filled eyes and red cheeks. She marches forward, grabs a cup of beer, and throws it, spilling the liquid all over Tanya’s white shirt and Tom’s face. Lexie storms out of the room, tears running down her cheeks.

  I rush ahead, pulling Dean along. “I’ve got see if she’s okay.” Dean stumbles forward and trips over the megaphone, knocking into me on his way down. We both plummet to floor, my chin slides along the filthy carpet. Fire rips along my skin. Dear God, please let my skin be intact. Who knows what type of new and undiscovered bacteria live on this floor? I’ve got more important things to worry about at the moment. Poor Lexie.

  Dean hops to his feet and pulls me up, ending my struggle. I continue moving my head from side to side to try and catch a glimpse of where she went. A flash of her long-brown curls and purple sweater rush through the door, slamming it hard. I lunge forward into a sprint, pulling Dean behind me.

  “I don’t work out this hard at practice. Maybe coach should hire you.” He jogs by my side, quickly catching up. White vapors pour from his mouth.

  “Motivation is the key…there she is.” We spot Lexie and catch up to her. The frigid air blows through the quiet night. I slow to a trot, shivering.

  She slows to a fast walk, wiping a few tears away from her eyes with one hand and clenches a cup of beer with the other. “What an asshole.”

  “Scum of the earth,” I say, pulling her into a side hug, my teeth chattering.

  Dean walks alongside, silent. Clearly guys have no clue what to say at times like these. I’ve got to give him a break, Tom although an asshole, is still his fraternity brother. It’s not like Dean is going to go bashing him with the girls.

  “I hope he fucking rots in hell, and that slut Tanya can go with him.” She sips her beer.

  Flashing hues of blue and red illuminate the night sky and a blaring siren cuts through the air. Crap. The cops. My pulse rate doubles. Memories rush through my head like a ton of bricks. Last time I was in a situation like this, Mom had to pick me up from the precinct after Kayley’s mega beach party got busted. Not a memory I’d like to relive.

  “Ma’am, what’s in the cup?” An officer pulls alongside us in his car, flashing a light at Lexie.

  She shrugs and wipes a stray tear away from her face.

  “It’s mine, officer.” Dean stops and walks up to the police cruiser.

  What the hell is he doing? He just said the scholarship committee won’t tolerate any criminal activity. Is he insane? He’s got everything to lose.

  The officer steps out of the car and shines his flashlight in Dean’s face. Dean squints, temporarily blinded.

  The officer moves the light down to our handcuffs. “Can you explain this?”

  “Yes, officer. We’re coming from a handcuff party at Beta Omega. I was just making sure the girls made it home safe.”

  The officer shakes his head. “I’m sorry, there are open container laws. I’ll have to take you in.”

  “No.” I stand in front of Dean. I can’t let him take the blame for this. I stare up at the cop, my heart pounding like a jackhammer. What the hell am I doing? This is how people end up on the news, beaten by cops. I step to the side, frozen. “Can’t we just get a warning? We’ll never do it again. Please, just give us a break.” My eyes well up with tears.

  The officer shakes his head. “I’m sorry, he’s coming with me.”

  The officer twists our novelty handcuffs and slides them off. He grabs Dean by the arm and shoves him in the back of the cruiser. I cover my mouth with my hands and take in small breaths between gasps. A river of tears flow down my cheeks as our eyes lock through the window. The police cruiser drives away, taking my superhero to be tried for a crime he didn’t commit. Typical, like a million love stories through the ages. I guess it is kind of romantic. I wipe my cheeks and let the cold breeze dry my eyes. Sometimes the hero is the one who needs saving and I’m off to the rescue.

  CHAPTER 7—STAY

  I bounce my knee so fast my whole body trembles. I lean back in the hard plastic chair of campus police headquarters. Guess I was so preoccupied with the shit storm happening in front of me that I didn’t notice the huge Lakeview U emblem on the police car. Thank god it wasn’t the actual police departm
ent. Tonight would be going a whole lot different. I nibble at my nails and stare at the large clock on the wall of the small room. The second hand ticks slowly, almost as if it’s going backward. I scan the bright white walls adorned with a poster of Stevie Wonder that reads “I’d rather drive than get in a car with someone who’s been drinking” and a few pictures of the campus police officers. I set my feet flat on the tan tiles and gaze at the campus officer, sitting in a large mahogany desk in front of me, scribbling on some papers.

  I replay the scene in my mind over and over again. If Dean knew these were the campus police he would’ve never even stopped. There’s no way he knew or he would’ve let them just take Lexie home, or at least let her sober up in headquarters. No, he was willing to lay his whole scholarship on the line just to protect me and Lexie. What was he thinking? I’m torn between hugging and slapping him when I see him.

  The officer fits the paperwork into a manila folder and closes it. He glides his chair along the tiles and rises up like a mighty oak. “He’s on his way out.”

  I stand up and fidget with my fingers. “Thanks.”

  The officer shakes his head and sits back down, grabbing another paper from his desk.

  I stare at the door in front of me, willing it to open. Footsteps thump toward me, getting louder with each passing moment. The large gray door swings open and a jolt of electricity shoots through my body.

  Dean runs his hand through his hair, tousling it into that perfect mess. He drops his hands to his sides and walks forward. He’s never looked sexier than he does right at this moment.

  “I’m all yours.” He winks and flashes a sexy half-smile.

  My eyes well up with tears and I laugh at the same time, lunging forward and wrapping my arms around his neck. “What were you thinking, you goof?” Probably not the best reaction. I step backward and raise my head, meeting his gaze.

  “That’s no way to thank your wingman.” He wraps his arm around me and walks forward. “I’ve had enough of the precinct.” He waves at the cops. “Later guys.”

  They nod. “Good luck this season,” the officer behind the desk says. He looks up for a split second, then returns to his paperwork.

  I hand Dean an oversized hoodie I won at my last dance team competition. One size fits all, plus it’s the only thing at my apartment that has a chance of fitting him. When he used his one phone call on me I had to get to him as fast as I could. Besides, if anyone can pull off hot pink, it’s him.

  He takes the hoodie and holds it up. “Just my color.” He slips it on and grazes his fingers over mine, gripping my hand. We huddle together and walk into the cold winter night. A gust of frigid air along with a few stray snowflakes caresses my skin, sending goose bumps throughout my body. Dean presses against me. My stomach drops to the ground.

  “At least my apartment’s only a block away.” I trudge forward leaning into Dean, trying to soak up the warmth from his hot body.

  “Guess I’m heading back with no cuffs, no girl, and a pink hoodie. Just how I imagined the night would go.” He squeezes me tighter.

  I look up at him and shake my head. My teeth chatter and white vapors escape from my mouth. “You’re staying with me.”

  He scrunches his eyebrows and slightly jerks his head back. “At your apartment?”

  I nod. “It’s a rule, I have to monitor anyone I bust out of jail.”

  A wide smile creeps across his face. “You’re the sheriff.”

  I smirk. Weaving my arm with his, we make our way back to my apartment.

  My hand trembles as I jiggle the key in the lock. With a soft click it gives, opening the door. My pulse skyrockets; no going back now.

  Dean smacks his feet against the doormat, shaking loose snow from his black boots. “Want me to take them off?”

  Lava flows through my veins. “Leave them in here so they don’t freeze. Unless you want high-heeled boots to go with your pink hoodie on the walk back tomorrow.” I toss the keys on the counter.

  “Wouldn’t be the first time.” He snickers and sets his boots on the throw carpet in the kitchen, closing the door behind him.

  I open the fridge. “Big decision. Sweet girly wine, diet soda, or pink champagne.” I turn toward Dean.

  “Pink’s my color.” He pulls the hoodie over his head, catching his T-shirt.

  My eyes lock onto the hem of the shirt on its journey over the treacherous terrain of Dean’s abs. Sweet Jesus he’s got an eight-pack. My lips part and heat floods through my body, from my head to my toes. My nerve endings stir and tingle. I follow the fabric over his pecs. He’s so much more impressive than I gave him credit for. Who knew he was hiding a body that should be chiseled in stone underneath all those clothes? My hand releases the refrigerator door and it slams shut.

  My eyes glue to the fabric as he pulls it down over each peak and valley slowly. My mouth falls open and I stare in awe.

  “See something you like?” He flashes a sexy half-smile and pulls his T-shirt down.

  Caught red-handed. Warmth spreads across my cheeks like wildfire. I take out the bottle of pink champagne and hold it by its neck. “Making sure there’s no weapons on you.”

  He holds out his hands. “Maybe you should frisk me.”

  Oh God. There’s no way on earth I can act like one of those flirty frat-party girls, especially completely sober. Sure, I’ve done it a hundred times drunk but that was another time, another me. I bite at my lip. Please don’t let me ruin this.

  I shake my head and take two clear plastic cups from the stack on the countertop. “Follow me, if you know what’s good for you.” I wink and walk into the hallway.

  Okay, maybe not the best way to get him into my bedroom but I’ve got to be realistic. With my luck, Lexie will wake up for a glass of water in her underwear and freak if she sees Dean. It’s not like I can warn her. She’s passed out and three sheets to the wind.

  My muscles quiver and my stomach rolls. I step onto the soft tan carpet of my bedroom. Dean follows closely behind. I set the champagne and cups down on my desk and wipe my palms against my jeans.

  He looks around at my collage of pictures with a few of my medals earned from dance competitions hanging around the frames. He walks toward them and holds the metal medallion. “You must be good.”

  Lifting my shoulders, I shrug, “I was okay.”

  “Was?”

  I pop open the champagne and pour us two glasses, handing one to Dean. I take a sip, the bubbles tickling my nose. “I’m done competing.”

  He scrunches his eyebrows and opens his mouth, but quickly closes it.

  No way in hell am I getting into this conversation now. I’ve got to move things in a different direction. I take his free hand and guide him to my bed. I sit on the edge and scooch up. He plops down next to me, sloshing champagne to the rim of his cup.

  “I never said thank you for covering for me and Lexie.” I sip my champagne and fidget.

  “All in a day’s work.” He sips his champagne and grimaces. “Ugh, it’s like battery acid mixed with sugar. Girls like this crap?”

  I let out a slight chuckle. “Want something else?” I slug the rest of my champagne and toss my cup in the trashcan.

  He shakes his head and sets his cup down on the nightstand. “The slammer sobered me up.”

  My lips press into a white slash and I fold my arms across my chest. “What the hell were you thinking?”

  “Huh?” He crinkles his eyebrows and tilts his head.

  “You’re unbelievable.” My head shakes while my eyes roll. “What if they were real cops?”

  He shrugs. “Then I guess I’d be screwed.”

  That’s it? “Don’t you care about the future?”

  His body tenses and he glares with hard eyes. “You’re not great at thank you’s.”

  I throw my hands in the air. “You could have lost your scholarship, got kicked off the team, and had a police record. Don’t you think before you do things?”

  He shakes his head and m
utters something under his breath. “Yeah, and we could’ve all been cited for having an open container. Doubt real cops would dig the whole handcuff deal.” He locks his eyes with mine, his face flushed. “Don’t you get it? All I think about is you.” He runs his hand through his hair and exhales loudly. “You’re in my head every second of every day. No way in hell I’d let you go down. Not tonight, not ever.”

  The heat of a thousand suns radiates through my body. He’s willing to risk everything just to protect me? I leap on top of him, slamming my lips onto his. The force knocks his body against the bed, pinning him underneath me.

  He freezes for a second then glides his fingers along the bottom hem of my shirt. Slowly pulling it up, he runs his fingertips along the curve of my back. No holding back now. Jolts of electric energy flows through my veins. Oh my god, this is really happening. I lift myself until I’m straddling him and hold my arms in the air. He rises up to a sitting position and slides off my shirt, tossing it to the floor. Our lips break for a split second as the fabric moves over my head, then lock back together as if they can’t stand to be apart. How did I manage to resist him this long? I lower my arms and trace my fingertips along the thin fabric of his T-shirt, gliding them along the peaks and valleys of his back. God, I need him, now. I grip the hem and pull it hard, up and over his head, flinging it into oblivion. I pull back and catch my breath, admiring the view. Amazing, that body looks better every time I see those sculpted biceps and eight-pack abs; pure perfection at its finest.

  He eases his fingers underneath the straps of my bra, slowly lowering them down my shoulders. He places soft kisses along my neck. Adrenaline flows through my veins, pushing my body into overdrive. He reaches around and unhooks my bra with a snap of his fingers. I let out a soft moan as he slides his hands forward, cupping my breasts with his calloused hands. The sensation sends shockwaves through my core.

  Dean shifts his weight and leans over, nudging me down against the soft purple comforter. He hovers above me. My focus shifts to the eyes that can pierce my soul. I can’t take any more; I need to feel him. I flatten my hands up his back, pulling him close against me. My heart stammers and my breathing turns into panting. He moves his hand down my breast and shifts his body to the side, unbuckling my jeans with his nimble fingers.