“I wasn’t hitting on you,” I clarified.
I wasn’t. I would be crazy to hit on Ms. Welch, even if her laugh made me want to crack more jokes. Even if her smile made me light up inside. She wasn’t like the chicks I normally hung out with, whose smiles and laughs were a bit too bright, a bit on the fake side because they knew that was the reaction I wanted. It meant so much more when Bri smiled because I knew I had earned it.
“I know,” she said quickly, but I couldn’t tell if she was being truthful.
Hell. I couldn’t tell if I was being truthful. I must have breathed in too much smoke from the fire or something.
Take a step back, Davidson.
“Okay,” I said. “Safe subject. Where are you from? Wait, no, you already told me that. Virginia Beach. Okay then, what’s your family like?”
She shifted uncomfortably and stared into the fire.
“Fuck me,” I said. “Even when I’m not trying to be an asshole I’m an asshole.”
“No, it’s not you,” she said. “It’s totally me.” She blushed. Damn. She was cute when her cheeks were all pink. “I can’t believe I just said that. It works in this context, though.”
“You don’t have to talk about your family if you don’t want to.”
“No, it’s okay,” she said slowly. “It’s just a little complicated.”
Now it was my turn to stare at the fire. “Aren’t they all.” Bringing up her family was a stupid move on my part. Not because I wasn’t interested, but because logically her next question would be about mine. Shit, I really needed to think things through.
Starting tomorrow. Tonight was just a lost cause for thinking, especially when the glow of the flames was dancing across her skin and lighting up her dark eyes, making her look even more tempting.
Holy fuck. I needed a drink to counter these thoughts running through my head.
I popped open another Beast Lite. That shit was foul, but it was all we served in the party room, and I hadn’t wanted to take the time to swing by my room to get the good stuff.
“I’m actually adopted,” Bri said. “But I didn’t get adopted until I was ten, so I was in and out of foster homes for about eight years.”
“Shit, I’m—” I stopped myself. I’m sorry? Was that appropriate? Maybe I needed to reconsider waiting until tomorrow to think about what words came flying out of my mouth.
She shrugged. “It was okay. I mean, not great, obviously, but Frank and Marie are fantastic. They’re my parents. Most people think it’s weird that I call them by their first names, but I was ten when I moved in with them, so…yeah. They didn’t officially adopt me until I was twelve. It took a while for the paperwork to go through.”
“What do they do?”
“Frank is an orthodontist.” She smiled widely and pointed to her teeth, which were perfectly aligned. “Well, he was. He retired last year. Marie also retired last year. She was a school secretary. They’re a bit older than most parents. I’m incredibly blessed to have them in my life.”
That last line sounded rehearsed, like she recited it often. I’m sure it was true, but it also made me wonder what shitty stuff she’d gone through before her life became so blessed. I had no firsthand knowledge of the foster system whatsoever, but I’d seen movies, heard stories.
She didn’t seem overly uncomfortable talking about it, but there was a certain detachment in her voice.
She tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear, and that made me realize—her hands were empty. And here I was pounding back the Beast Lite and crushing empty cans.
“Shit,” I said. “You don’t have a drink. Why has no one offered you a drink?”
“No, it’s okay. I’m not a big drinker, anyway.”
“Come on.” I stood. “Let’s get you a drink, and I’ll show you around. Besides, you came out here for a party, and this”—I gestured to Amber and Brad, who had their hands all over one another—“isn’t really a party.”
Bri gripped the armrests of the chair for a moment, looking over at the PDA king and queen. She seemed to be debating something. Then she sighed and stood, “Okay.”
“Wait, are you two going in?” Cori said. “I’m going too, then. I don’t want to be left alone with these two.” She jerked her thumb at Brad and Amber, who were so into each other they didn’t even notice we were leaving.
“Are they always like that?” Bri asked as we walked toward the house.
“No,” I said at the same time Cori said, “Yes.”
“They’re a PDA kind of couple,” Cori clarified. “But they just made up after a fight, so this is much worse than normal.”
Bri started to go toward the door that led to the brothers’ rooms, but I grabbed her hand. “This way,” I said. “I invited you to a party, so let’s visit the party for a while.”
Even in the darkness, I could see Bri gulp. I smiled a little to myself. Yeah, it was shitty to enjoy her battling with her obvious social anxiety, but I’d felt so lacking in her presence these last few weeks that it was nice to have her on my turf for a change.
We could feel the hot air blasting out of the open door a few feet before we got there. Even though we’d turned off the heat earlier in the day, the massive number of warm bodies kept the room toasty. Too toasty if you asked me.
“Ladies, your coats? I’ll put them away.”
They stripped off their coats, and I left to take them up to my room, feeling confident Bri was in good hands with Cori. Even though I’d invited her to this party to make a point, to get her out of her comfort zone—and those goddamned suits she always wore—she was my guest, and I wanted her to have a good time.
Hell. I wanted everyone to have a good time. If you weren’t having a good time, then what’s the point?
And we were stuck with one another this semester, for better or for worse. I’d decided to take the high road and try to make peace with her and the situation.
Shit—passing three tests and playing nice with my academic counselor? If I got any more responsible, my brothers might ask me to run for fraternity president. I might have to scale it back a bit.
I locked the coats in my room and trotted back downstairs. Our normal DJ was taking the night off, and the replacement—a newly inducted freshman—was failing miserably. I didn’t know what the hell was blaring out of the speakers. Some techno shit. All the girls in their tight jeans and short skirts, who should have been dancing, were standing around, looking bored.
Oh, no. Not at my party.
Okay, it was Beta’s party, but still.
“Dude,” I said, entering the DJ booth. “You’re killing it.”
“Man, this shit’s off the hook. I just mixed it last night.”
“No, I mean you’re killing it. Like killing the party. Look around. It’s dead.”
The DJ scanned the room, his face falling a little when he saw people’s expressions.
“Lemme see your playlist.”
He stepped aside so I could scan the list. I shook my head. I wasn’t a DJ—didn’t claim to be—but it wasn’t hard to pick music that would get people moving. My tastes ran more toward Dave Matthews, but I’d been to enough parties to know what to play.
I deleted most of what he’d had lined up and replaced it with some of the usual fare, starting with the vintage “Baby Got Back.”
“Nuh-uh, man. That shit’s so old.”
I shrugged. “So what? Girls like to shake their asses. It’s an ass song.”
He reached for the mouse, and I grabbed his hand. “No,” I said. “I’m calling scroll on you. Do not touch that playlist.”
He cursed and crossed his arms. Since he was so new, he wouldn’t dare disobey me.
Scroll was how fraternities kept track of seniority. Each brother was given a number when they were formally initiated. Obviously, the lower the number, the more seniority. Luke technically had scroll on me, but the older brothers didn’t use it on one another. It was pretty much just used to keep the new guys in li
ne.
I exited the DJ booth, but leaned on the outside of it, surveying the room. As soon as the techno song faded and the opening dialogue in “Baby Got Back” came on, girls shrieked and pulled their friends onto the dance floor. I smirked and looked back at the DJ. Told him so.
Across the room, Cori was trying to convince Bri to dance with her. I hadn’t been spotted yet, so I stayed where I was to watch. Finally she let Cori drag her to the dance floor. While Cori broke it down, Bri did some awkward shuffling thing that barely passed as dancing. I stifled my laugh at first, but then I just let it loose. She wasn’t looking at me anyway.
She was kinda cute—in an awkward, all knees and elbows with no rhythm kind of way.
It was obvious she was way out of her element. And vulnerable. She was totally exposed out there, and her expression showed just how terrified she was.
Big, bad Ms. Welch brought down by Sir Mix-A-Lot.
I made my way through the crowd, coming up behind her. She still didn’t see me. When the song came to the “anaconda” part, I jumped in front of her, stuck “it” out, and moved “it” in time with the music.
When the part was over, I spun around to face her, and she was laughing with a huge grin on her face.
Mission accomplished.
I grabbed her hand and guided her through the crowd back to the DJ booth, where it was surprisingly a little quieter, since the speakers were mounted on the edges of the room and the booth was in the center. Before she could protest, I put my hands on her waist and lifted her so she could sit on the counter that surrounded the booth. Normally we didn’t let girls sit up there, and the DJ gave me a dirty look, but whatever. I was basically the DJ tonight anyway.
Bri leaned down close to my ear. “Smooth moves!” She laughed.
I pretended to buff my nails on my shirt. “When you’ve got it, you’ve got it.”
I leaned my elbows back on the counter, and we stayed there watching the party unfold around us. When she’d been in the center of the room, she’d been tense. I could feel it in her hand and in her when I lifted her. While we were technically even more in the center of the room—dead center to be exact—she was relaxed, content to watch the party around her rather than be part of it.
Yeah…she was definitely my polar opposite.
There wasn’t much we had in common. Actually, I don’t think we had anything in common other than attending the same school.
But that made her so much more interesting.
“Fuck!” I said suddenly. “I never got you a drink.”
She shook her head and put her hand on my shoulder to prevent me from walking away. “Seriously, I have to drive home later. I don’t need a drink.”
“We have a DD,” I said. “You don’t have to worry about driving.”
She shook her head again and gave me a firm look, a look I’d seen before, from across her desk. It was her counselor look.
I reached over the DJ counter and fished around until I came up with a bottle of water that I’d seen there earlier, and handed it to her. We usually kept a couple cases back there. Although I wanted her to cut loose and have a good time, I wasn’t going to do anything else to risk seeing the counselor look again. Note to self—don’t offer any more alcohol.
“Now this, I’ll take.” She opened the water and quickly drained half of it.
I felt like an ass. I wasn’t her date, but I’d invited her to this party, and here she was suffering from thirst. I was being a shitty host.
My cell buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out to read the text. “Fuck.”
I was about to be an even shittier host.
“I’ve got to help Luke with something. I’ll be right back.”
She nodded, and I was strangely reluctant to leave her there.
She’s not your responsibility, I kept telling myself. She was a big girl. She could take care of herself.
But damn, she looked hot sitting up there in her short little dress and high boots with her legs crossed. Any guy with any sense would check her out.
A fierce sense of protectiveness crept over me. I was tempted to text Luke back and tell him I was busy.
I couldn’t do that to him, though, and honestly I was being stupid. Bri was perfectly safe here. Even brothers who weren’t officially on risk still tried to look out for the girls at our parties. The last thing the fraternity needed was to have some girl get roofied at our party, but aside from that, it was just a shitty thing I wouldn’t wish on anyone.
So I wasn’t really worried about anything bad happening to her at one of our parties. The chance of that was slim, but the risk of some idiot hitting on her? High. And that was not okay with me.
She’s your counselor, dipshit. So what did it matter if someone hit on her? She was free to date whomever she wanted. It was none of my damn business, even if she was here as my date.
Wait, no. My guest, not my date.
When did that line get blurred?
I glanced at my phone one last time, and realized Bri had already done her time—her two hours was up. When she realized that, would she hightail it out of here?
I hoped not. I really wanted her to be here when I came back.
My academic counselor. Fuck.
…
Bri
As Josh walked away, my shoulders slumped. Great. Now what?
I remained on my perch on the DJ’s booth, drumming my fingers on my knee. It had been over two hours, so I’d fulfilled my obligation. I should have left.
But that would be rude. I couldn’t just slip out while Josh wasn’t looking. And as much as I hated to admit it, I was actually having fun. For the first time I realized that I didn’t need to be in the middle of a party to enjoy it. I was content sitting on the sidelines and watching the dancing, the drinking, and the drama unfold around me. It was a spectacle.
Yeah, the party room was a little crazier than I liked, but the fraternity party was nothing like what I’d expected. There was no pressure to get wild. I could be as lame as I wanted, and no one cared. And upstairs in the brothers’ rooms, it was low key—no body shots, no keg stands, none of the outrageous stuff I’d imagined.
Much to my surprise, I wasn’t ready to leave quite yet.
Part of that had to do with Josh. My relationship with him had been so adversarial, but now that we were out of my cubicle, and his academics weren’t front and center, I realized something.
I actually liked him.
He was a good guy, had nice friends, and was decidedly not an asshole. Hopefully it would make the academic counseling aspect of our relationship go more smoothly, now that I understood him a little better.
Wait…part of our relationship? That implied there were other parts. What the heck was I thinking? We only had—and could only ever have—one relationship. Me, counselor. Josh, student.
This night was an anomaly, a lesson learned. No more bets at work.
Twenty minutes later, Josh still hadn’t returned. When thirty minutes passed, I started to get worried and a bit annoyed. He’d said he’d be right back. Didn’t that imply a few minutes, maybe ten at most? It was after one, and the party was starting to thin out a bit, the DJ having made announcements that the DD was making runs to campus.
My phone chimed with a text from Josh.
Can you come to the upstairs bathroom?
I blinked. Had I read that right?
I hesitated, seriously considering texting back that I’d already left and using the opportunity to slip out. Instead I sighed, hopped off the DJ booth, and went in search of Josh.
Luke was standing in the hall upstairs, a drill in his hand and an irritated expression on his face. Josh was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. His expression was slightly amused.
Then I noticed the bathroom door off its hinges and leaning against the wall. A closer inspection revealed the doorframe had been beat to hell and now had huge dents. Guess the door hadn’t come off easily.
“What’s up?�
� I asked.
Josh jerked his head toward the doorway. I peeked into the bathroom at an obviously drunk girl who had her arms wrapped around a pipe that ran the length of the wall. She reminded me of a protester who had chained herself to a tree. Her smeared makeup made her resemble a raccoon.
“Who’s that?” I asked.
“Tara,” Josh said matter-of-factly.
“Okay?”
“She had a fight with her boyfriend—”
“He’s not my boyfriend!” she shrieked. “Not after I caught him with that slut! Men are assholes!”
“To make a long story short,” Josh said, giving the girl a disparaging look. “She locked herself in the bathroom, and Luke had to break the door down. Now she refuses to let our DD drive her home.”
“I’m not getting in a car with an asshole!” she yelled, tightening her arms around the pipe.
“Ah,” I said, understanding. “Because all guys are assholes.”
“You got it.”
Josh reached over and tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear, his fingers grazing my cheek. Then he quickly put his hand in his pocket, like he’d realized how intimate a gesture it was.
I wondered if he truly realized what he’d really done—tipped the scales. I could no longer deny that I liked him.
“So I hate to ask,” Josh continued and cleared his throat. I focused on the wall just above his head, willing my heart to stop pounding against my rib cage. “But would you mind driving her home?”
“Yes,” I said without hesitation. “I mean, yes, I’ll do it, not that I mind.”
I blushed at my babble.
I’d like to say I was being benevolent, but this gave me an immediate exit from this situation. My heartbeat wasn’t showing any sign of slowing. And I was sure passers-by could read the truth on my face—Ms. Welch has stupidly and irresponsibly fallen for her client.
I needed distance, and I needed it five minutes ago. Heck, who was I kidding? I’d needed it the minute Josh walked into my cubicle.
“Are you taking her home?” Cori had come up behind me. “I’ll go with you.” I was about to turn down her offer, but then I thought better of it. I didn’t want to be alone in my car with this drunk girl, especially if she felt the need to puke.
Wanting More (Love on Campus #2) Page 8