by Jacob Chance
Claire’s eyes flare with surprise before she answers. “I’m always nice, Brady.”
I don’t answer. Leaning down, my lips near Harlow’s ear I say, “let’s go get something to drink.”
She nods her head.
“We’ll be back in a bit. We’re going to grab some drinks and I want to introduce Harlow to some of the other guys.”
Zeke holds his fist out and I bump it with mine. “Later,” I say then usher Harlow along with me toward the kitchen. We’re at my old frat house, the same one I met her at a couple weeks ago. There are so many people here I end up taking Harlow’s hand, keeping her slightly behind me as I shoulder us through the crowd. Nodding my head hello to those I know, I don’t stop moving forward. I need a beer and I want to get a drink in her hand before she decides she’s had enough of this madhouse and wants to leave.
When we reach the kitchen there’s a crowd gathered around the table where Cameron and a few of my teammates are playing a game of strip poker with some of the cheerleaders. Judging by the noise level and the lack of clothes they’ve all started drinking the hard stuff early.
Harlow’s eyes show how surprised she is at what we walked in on. I forget this is all new to her. Hell, this is tame compared to some of the shit that goes on here. There are a few cheerleaders who like to be watched. They’ll suck anyone’s dick on the football team and they don’t care who sees. The larger the audience the better and they’ll act like it’s a fucking honor. Those are the girls I avoid. I might not be the most selective about who I fuck, but I do have some standards.
“What do you want to drink?” I ask, gesturing to the long line of bottles spread out on the granite counter.
I watch her eyes move over all the different kinds of liquor before she glances up at me.
“Do you have any wine coolers? I don’t want anything that strong.” Her teeth bite into her bottom lip with worry. “I don’t usually drink,” she adds.
I squeeze her hand, reassuring her. “No problem. Let me see what I can find.” Releasing my hold on her I open the fridge and move things around until I find a berry wine cooler. I grimace. This bottle’s probably been in here for four years. Does alcohol ever expire?
I search some more, but this is the only thing I come up with. Closing the door, I hand her the bottle.
She smiles. “Thanks. I’ve had this kind before. It’s pretty good.”
“Don’t thank me yet. I’m not sure how long it’s been buried inside our fridge. It could be from my freshman year.”
She giggles and searches the bottle for an expiration date. “I don’t see a date so I guess that means it never expires.” She twists open the top, breaking the paper seal. “Here goes nothing. Cheers,” she toasts before taking a sip. Once she swallows it all down she nods her head, pressing her lips together. “Tastes okay to me.”
“You’re taken care of. Now what am I in the mood for?” I spot a bottle of Captain Morgan spiced rum and add a good dose to some ice in a red cup. A little Coke goes in last and when I realize there’s no straw in sight, I give it a stir with my index finger. I shrug my shoulders. “Desperate times call for desperate measures.”
Harlow giggles as she watches me.
Pulling my finger from the cold beverage I hold it in front of her mouth. A complete look of panic comes over her face before she shakes her head.
Chuckling at her horrified expression, I dry my finger on her jeans. She jumps at my touch. “Calm down, kitten. I’m just joking. Believe me, my finger is not the body part I want you to suck.”
She gasps, then covers her eyes with her hand.
I lean down, my lips close to her ear. “You do know I can still see you, right?” She shivers when she feels the heat of my breath fanning her skin with each word I say. I press a gentle kiss below her ear and run my nose along the graceful line of her neck. Her scent reminds me of a combination of strawberries and vanilla. “You smell delicious; good enough to eat. I can’t wait to find out what you taste like,” I growl.
She gasps again, lowering her hand down enough to reveal her large gray eyes. “Brady, you can’t say things like that to me,” she says, her voice so low it’s barely audible.
Lifting my head, I peer in her eyes. “I just did.” I wink, then continue in a more serious tone. “Harlow, I’m not saying anything I don’t mean. I’ve been pretty clear on how I feel about you from the start.” I take her hand from her face and place my cup down on the counter. Cradling her cheeks in my palms, I tell her, “I want you, plain and simple. I’m not going to pressure you into doing something you’re not ready for, but I’m also going to be open about my feelings for you.” I rub my nose against hers and then draw back. “I like you and I want to spend more time with you.”
Chapter Nine
HARLOW
Did I hear him correctly? He likes me? My heart painfully thumps in my chest. I want to jump up and down like a pogo stick screaming with happiness. I can’t believe Brady likes me. Now I don’t know what to say to him. If I admit I like him back he’ll wear me down and before you know it I’ll be naked beneath him in bed. My eyes close and I swallow the lump in my throat.
What would be bad about that scenario?
No, I caution myself. I need to play it cool.
“Do you like me?” he asks, his eyebrows raised high. “Maybe just a little?” He holds his index finger and thumb close together.
I don’t answer. I remain silent because I’m still fighting the urge to scream with excitement.
“Maybe like is too strong a word.” He rubs his fingers over his chin. “Do you not hate me?” He stares down at me with an expression similar to a puppy waiting for attention.
A giggle I can’t contain any longer bursts out of me. “I like you,” I say, easing his concern.
“You do?” he questions with narrowed eyes. “Because I’ve got to be honest with you Harlow, you confuse the fuck out of me.” His fingers gently wrap around my upper arms, pulling me closer. “Half the time I can’t tell if you like me or despise me.”
Placing my hands on his hips, I hook my thumbs through his belt loops. “Kiss me,” I say, staring up into his surprised blue eyes. I don’t need to ask again. His mouth swoops down, his tongue slips inside seeking mine. His fingers bury in my hair, holding my head in place as his kiss steals my breath from me. It steals all ability for clear thinking and if I’m not careful Brady Lincoln could easily steal my heart too.
My hands slide up his rock-hard body before I use the heels of my palms to push on his chest ending our connection. I wanted his lips on mine, but now that they were, I’m scared. I already feel more for him than I want to. Allowing myself to sink deeper into whatever this is could be a big mistake.
He pulls away, closely studying me. “Everything okay, kitten?”
“Yeah, I just need some time,” I answer honestly. There’s no sense in sugar coating it. Not to mention, I forgot we were standing in the middle of the kitchen with a table full of spectators. I peek around Brady’s shoulder and find a few of the girls watching with scowls on their faces. I’m thankful his broad-shouldered frame blocked the front row view of our kiss. They can only speculate about what we were doing.
He takes my hand, lifts it to his lips and places a kiss on the back. His warm gentle touch sends a signal directly to my heart. It’s such a sweet gesture and a massive contradiction to who I’ve perceived Brady to be for the past year. It makes my chest tighten with all the emotions he stirs up in me. Every wall I’ve surrounded myself with, he’s chipping away at. He’s causing cracks in my ivory tower and soon it will all come crashing down. Whether it’s with a positive result or a devastating one remains to be seen. Only time will tell. One thing’s for sure, I’m helpless to stop him.
He keeps hold of my hand. “Come on. I want to introduce you to some more friends of mine.” We walk side by side across the kitchen. I can’t avoid the temptation of glancing at the girls seated around the table. All eyes are narrowed on Br
ady and me. The malice in their stares has my stomach sinking with nerves. I don’t want them to notice me. I’m happy flying under the radar.
I breathe a sigh of relief when we leave the kitchen, but it only lasts for a short moment. As soon as I gaze around the room I realize all eyes are on us and the fact he’s holding my hand isn’t going unnoticed. Tugging on our connection I try to pull from his grasp, but he has a firm hold on me.
“Why are you pulling away?” he asks as we head toward a group of people directly across the room.
“Everyone’s looking at us,” I answer.
He smirks when his eyes meet mine. “Let them look. Who cares?” He raises our joined hands, kissing the back of mine. It’s just as sweet the second time around.
He’s unaffected by all the eyeballs aimed our way. He’s always the center of attention wherever he goes on campus. This moment is no different than any other day in the life of Brady Lincoln.
I don’t know if I can ever get used to the baggage being with him is sure to bring. Just thinking about it makes me anxious.
“Relax, kitten. It’s just a party.” He reassuringly squeezes my hand.
“Why do you call me kitten?” I question. I’ve been meaning to ask, but being around him is distracting and he has a way of making me forget about everything else.
“You reminded me of a kitten the first night we met. You were cute and tiny, but your words were like sharp little claws digging into my skin.”
“Wow, that’s kind of sweet,” I say, surprised at his words.
He winks, leading me toward a good-looking guy with dark brown hair. When he turns our way, I notice his hazel eyes and white smile.
“Hey Brady. Who’s this gorgeous creature with you?” he asks gesturing at me, a grin on his handsome face.
I flush at his complimentary words and instantly like him. And it’s not because he called me gorgeous - although it didn’t hurt.
Brady releases my hand, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “This is Harlow,” he introduces me. He gestures at the hazel eyed hottie, “this is Nick.”
I smile and we exchange hellos.
“Nick is my other roommate,” Brady informs me. “He’s the slob out of the three of us. Zeke and I are constantly picking up his shit.”
Nick doesn’t deny Brady’s claims or look remotely guilty about being called out. His posture is relaxed and he has a beer clasped in his left hand. “Why would I clean when you two take care of it for me?” he asks with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “There’s no shame in my game.” He shrugs and takes a long pull from his bottle.
I giggle and take in Brady’s exasperated expression.
He shakes his head. “Can you believe this fucker? It’s a good thing he’s got skills on the field or we’d be tempted to kick his slovenly ass out.”
“That’s not the only place I have skills,” he interjects with a smirk and polishes his fingernails on his puffed-out chest.
I giggle at his bad joke.
“Sure dude.” Brady slaps him twice on the side of his arm. He turns to me with a cocked eyebrow. “Did I forget to mention he’s a legend in his own mind?”
“Hey, if I’m not a legend in my own mind then why would anyone else think I’m one?” he asks with complete conviction, as if his words impart some great wisdom, instead of only confusing the listener.
I snort at his logic.
Brady grins, casting his blues in my direction. “You believe this guy?” He gestures toward him with his head.
I tap my finger on my lips. “I think I’m beginning to see why you guys are friends.”
“What?” Brady’s hand goes to his chest as if my words offend him.
I giggle. “I rest my case.”
He turns me in his arms, pulling me close, then kisses me on my forehead. It’s so spontaneous, it takes me by surprise. It’s the little gestures that get to me every time.
“I love your laugh. And it’s even better when I’m the reason for it.”
I place my hands on his upper arms. The solid muscles beneath my fingers don’t escape me, but right now I’m more interested in Brady the man, not the shape of his body. It was much easier to think of him as a shallow jock with no redeeming qualities. Now, I know that’s not true. I haven’t even scratched the surface of whom Brady really is.
“I need to use the bathroom. Which direction is it?” I ask, craving some distance between these conflicting emotions.
He spins me around, my back to the solid strength of his chest, his hands on my shoulders. He leans down, placing his lips next to my ear. “It’s right down the hallway, last door on the right.”
“Thanks,” I say, walking forward out of his grasp. As I round the corner I slam into someone. Their drink spills all over me, drenching my chest.
“Aah,” I cry out as the icy temperature of the liquid seeps through my sweater and makes contact with my skin.
“Oh, sorry.” She giggles.
My head lifts and I recognize her as one of the girls who was playing strip poker in the kitchen. Judging from the way she gave me the stink eye earlier, I start to wonder if this was an accident at all. If I was into betting I’d say probably not and I’d most likely win a bundle. Girls can be so horrible to each other. This is a perfect example of why I only hang out with Raine.
“Not a big deal,” I say maneuvering around her. I refuse to let her see me upset by what she did.
“Harlow,” she calls my name.
I freeze in place; my eyes squeeze shut for a moment. How the hell does she know my name? Spinning around to face her once more, I relax my features. “Yes?”
“You seem like a nice girl and nice girls should stay away from Brady Lincoln. Unless you’re happy being one of many.”
Pressing my lips together, I nod my head. “Good to know. Thanks for the warning.” I take a step backward and then pivot around, walking toward the bathroom as fast as I can. It’s vacant, thank god. I can’t lock myself in there fast enough and once I do the tears start to flow. I’m not even sure why I’m crying. Maybe it’s the wet sweater or maybe it’s the reminder I was just given this is Brady’s scene, not mine.
Why am I even here?
Staring at my reflection in the mirror I see a girl who has no business being at this party. And there’s no one to blame but myself. I let him bring me - let him weaken my resolve with his charm.
Ripping the hand towel from the rack, I press it against my black sweater and do my best to soak up the sticky brown liquid. The thick wet material feels horrible touching my skin; I want to strip it right off. There’s no way I can remain here now. I’ll be glad to get home and shower this night away.
Leaving the bathroom, I head back toward where I left Brady. As I come around the corner to enter the living room my eyes seek him out. What I see has me stopping short. He’s talking to the girl who dumped her drink on me. Not only is he talking to her, he seems pretty fucking happy about it. What a jerk.
What am I going to do? My heart races in my chest as my eyes scan the immediate area for anyone I know, but my search is futile. I need to tell Brady I’m ready to leave and all the better if I interrupt their conversation. I don’t owe either of these jerks anything.
My stride is fast as I walk in his direction. He notices me when I’m three steps away and smiles throwing me off balance. I stop when I’m next to him and he slips his arm around me.
“Harlow this is Tabby. She’s Nick’s younger sister and I feel like she’s mine too.”
My lips spread into a wide smile at his words and the sour look on Tabby’s face. “Oh, we’ve already met, up close and personal on my way to the bathroom.”
“Great. I should probably introduce you to some more people.”
“Before you do that, I need to talk to you.”
He looks concerned as he glances down at me. “Everything okay?” he asks.
My eyes flick in Tabby’s direction and then back to him. He picks up on the signal. “Tabby, if you�
��ll excuse us,” he says with impeccable manners. Too bad they’re wasted on her.
She takes the hint, glaring at me and then walking away without a word.
“What’s up?” he asks, pulling me in front of him.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to go home now.”
His eyebrows draw together as he frowns. “You’re not having a good time?” he questions, his blue eyes delving into mine.
“No, it’s not that. Someone spilled their drink on me and I want to get home and change.”
He reaches out, brushing his fingers over the material above my chest. “Wet and sticky.” He pushes his finger between his lips and then removes it. “But tasty. Let’s get you out of here.”
We say a few quick goodbyes to some of his friends and then we’re on our way. When we reach the sidewalk, Brady takes my hand as he turns left. “Where are we going? My dorm is in the other direction,” I say dragging my feet.
He keeps walking. “I know it is, but my apartment is closer. You can shower, change into one of my shirts and we can continue our date.” When he grins down at me, I can’t even be annoyed at his bossiness. I swear he could charm the panties off a nun.
How am I supposed to resist him?
His place is only a block from the frat house and I’m glad for the closeness. My damp sweater and the chill of the night air don’t mix.
Once we’re inside he directs me to his bathroom. “Clean towels are under the sink, there’s soap and shampoo in the shower. Give a yell if you need anything, like someone to wash your back or other body parts.” He wiggles his eyebrows up and down as he backs out the door. I giggle, pushing it closed in his face.
“Hey, that was cold,” he yells from the hallway.
Shaking my head, I smile and begin to remove my clothes. Not only is my sweater a mess but so is my bra. I won’t be wearing either again until they’ve been washed.
I turn on the shower and wait for the water to heat before I step inside. Soaping up my body with one hand, while I hold my hair up with the other is harder than it sounds. A quick rinse is all I dare, knowing Brady could come barging through the door at any moment.