by J. Saman
Shaking my head, I let go of his arm. His hand drops to his side, but his eyes stay on me for a minute longer. I feel like he can see right through me. He doesn’t comment, just waits until I start to move further into the house before he follows after.
What else can I do?
The main room is big and smells of cheap stale beer, cologne and sweat.
Not a very pleasant combination, but not that uncommon I’m sure for a house where six boys live. House music is blasting from two large speakers at the far wall that are positioned up on cinder blocks and there is a massive sound system and television in between them. College football is silently being played on the television. The center of the room is cleared of most of the furniture and there are some very scantily clad women and a few guys dancing on the makeshift dance floor, holding red plastic cups.
I don’t see Brandon anywhere.
I also don’t recognize a single person here, which automatically sets me on edge. Aubrey takes my arm, pulling me through the large living room and into the back of the house where the kitchen is located, as well as the kegs.
“Hey. There’s my girl,” Brandon’s voice climbs over the cacophony of drunken chatter. “And I see you brought your henchmen,” he laughs at his own joke.
Great, he’s drunk.
Brandon comes strolling up to me, wrapping his arms around me and picking me up, giving me a tight squeeze. He sets me down after I wiggle a little and he nods his head at Aubrey and Xander, who don’t look too pleased.
“Hey guys. You want a beer?”
For a second, I’m afraid Aubrey is going to start something and get pummeled, but he just nods his head. “Yeah. Sure man, thanks.”
I mean, Aubrey and Xander are tall and well-built, but I don’t think they’d stand a chance against the lacrosse and football boys.
Brandon gives a lazy smile, throwing his enormous heavy arm over my shoulder and leading me in the direction of the keg that’s over by the sink. The small crowd of bodies surrounding it part like the Red Sea as Brandon walks up.
“Oh hey,” I yell loudly so that he can hear me. “Did you win your game?”
He smiles big, looking down at me with glassy blue eyes. “I did. Scored the winning goal.”
“Great.” I try for enthusiastic.
Some guy gives Brandon two red cups, but I decline it when he tries to hand one to me. “Oh, come on,” he pouts. “Celebrate with me.”
“I am.” I smile. “But I don’t drink beer, remember?”
“Right.” He laughs at a joke only he’s privy to, and hands Xander and Aubrey the two red cups before nodding to the guy manning the keg for another cup. “Do you want me to get you a whiskey or something? I know we have some bottles somewhere around here.” Brandon looks around the kitchen in search of what I assume are bottles of whiskey, but I shake my head.
“Nah. I’m good. I’m driving tonight.”
“Oh.” He looks disappointed, but quickly gets over it, turning back to Aubrey and Xander who are both doing double time, scoping the room for girls and watching my little exchange with Brandon. “You guys good?” They nod in unison, Xander holding up his cup, a scowl etched on his full lips. “Awesome.” Brandon turns back to me. “Come with me.” He takes my hand and leads me out of the kitchen before anyone, including me, can protest.
But as I turn back, I catch Xander’s eyes on me and he looks crestfallen.
CHAPTER 10
BRANDON SMILES AT ME OVER his shoulder. But it’s not the type of smile that says, I’m going to have my wicked way with you, so I follow him down the absurdly long dark hallway, past a half a dozen rooms until we reach two glass French doors at the end of the hall.
“Ready?” he asks with a boyish smile that I find just a little endearing.
“Sure.”
Brandon pulls down on the two brass levers, bringing the doors toward us. We both step outside onto the worn but sturdy balcony, and I inch over to the ledge, putting my hands on the peeling railing, peering down at the ground below. This is clearly the back of the house because it’s quiet and secluded, and even though I’m out here alone with a drunk Brandon, I’m grateful to be out of the smelly crowded downstairs.
“This is great,” I tell him, breathing in the cool night air.
“Yeah.” He nods, bending forward at the waist and leaning his forearms on the railing, the same way I am. He’s much taller than I am, so I have to crane my neck up to see him. “I come out here a lot actually. It’s one of my favorite reading spots.”
I know he said he reads a lot, but when I tried to talk about books with him, he balked. I don’t know if he says this because he knows I’m an English major and thinks it’s something I’d be into, or what. But I highly doubt he comes out here to read.
I blink, looking out at the night sky and trying to find various constellations, which isn’t difficult in this part of the world.
“I’m glad you came tonight. I was a little worried that you might bail on me since you said you got home late last night and were tired,” he admits, looking out at the backyard.
“I told you I’d come.” I nudge his arm with my shoulder. “But I am tired and I doubt I’ll stay all that long.”
He turns his body to face me with a warm smile that lights up his darkened eyes. “But not yet, right?”
“Right,” I confirm. “I’m happy that you won your game.”
He smiles, reaching out and draping his arm over me, rubbing up and down like he’s trying to keep me warm, even though I’m wearing a jacket and it’s rather mild out for the end of January. “It was just a scrimmage game. The real season doesn’t start for another couple of weeks. Maybe you can come to a home game sometime?”
“Sure.” I shrug, though I have little interest or understanding in the sport. “That could be fun.”
“I know I’ve had a few beers tonight and that you’re not really into that, but would it be okay if I kiss you?”
I love how he asks me that.
Freaking love it.
I don’t answer him, instead I turn in his arms so that I’m facing his chest and glide my hands up his arms, into his hair. His mouth comes down on mine in a soft slow kiss, with no tongue. But that only lasts a minute or two before he’s asking for entrance and I’m giving it.
He tastes of beer and toothpaste and smells of his soap and cologne. He doesn’t try anything more than this kiss, which I also like, but I know he wants to.
I can feel his restraint practically buzzing through him.
His arm is snaked around the back of my waist, pressing me up against his warm hard chest.
But he’s drunk.
I can taste that on him too, feel it in the slightly sloppy way he kisses me and it turns me off.
Especially when he tries to slide his hand down my jeans.
Brandon groans into my mouth, and that’s my cue to pull back. I need air and space. The taste of beer on him revolts me for some reason.
And I absolutely hate that he just tried to get down my pants outside on a balcony when he’s drunk and I’m not.
I realize I’m at a party at his house, so I decide to cut him some slack.
“Shit,” he laughs, running a hand through his hair. “I need to stop.” I laugh too and he looks down at me. “Okay,” he starts, taking my hand and intertwining our fingers. “I’m about two seconds away from picking you up, hauling you over my shoulder and bringing you down the hall to my bedroom.” He smiles. “But I don’t want to do that with you.” He smirks shaking his head. “I mean, obviously I want to do that with you, just not yet. I’d like to take things slow with you, Abby.” His tone grows serious as his free hand comes up and brushes my cheek. “I like you. A lot. And I realize this is soon and sudden and all that, but I’ve wanted you for two years so, it doesn’t feel that way to me.”
I don’t know what to say.
I mean I like him, obviously, but not a lot. At least not yet. He’s a nice guy and fun to talk to and has
been super sweet. But, I just don’t know.
“So,” he continues in the midst of my contemplative silence. “Do you want to spend the day with me tomorrow?”
“Yes. I do.” He smiles big. “But I can’t until the afternoon because I have to work on my paper for a while.”
“That’s fine. I’m going to need to sleep in anyway.” He chuckles, pulling me into his chest and wrapping his arms around me. “Did I freak you out?”
I shake my head in his chest. “No.” He might have. Just a little. But I’m going to roll with it because as I said, I like him.
“Good.” He kisses the top of my head, pulling me back and letting me go. “You ready to go back downstairs?” I gaze back towards the French doors behind us and think about it. “Let me rephrase,” he says and my attention turn back to his. “We need to go back downstairs because I’m having trouble being out here alone with you when I’m a few beers deep.”
I laugh at his candor. “Then yes, I’m ready to go back downstairs.”
He leads me back down the hallway and the occasional sound of people having sex from within the doors only makes him squeeze the hand he’s holding tighter. I’m curious what his room looks like, but I know that’s a bad idea if we’re doing this whole taking-it-slow thing. As we round the bottom of the stairs, Brandon grabs my waist and directs me over to the corner of the room where a few other people are standing.
But I’m suddenly beyond tired and not wanting to be social in this sweaty, smelly house watching people grind against each other and call it dancing anymore.
“Hey,” I practically shout up to Brandon, garnering his attention away from whatever conversation he was having with whomever he was talking to. “I’m beat. I’m going to head out.”
His face falls a little, but he recovers quickly. “You sure?”
I nod. “Call me tomorrow when you get up and we’ll meet up, okay?”
“Sure, babe.” Babe? He leans down and kisses my lips. “Get home safe.”
“I will.” I grin, patting his stomach twice before walking away in search of Aubrey and Xander.
Heading back into the kitchen, I spot Aubrey leaning heavily into some blonde girl—they’re always blonde—who is giggling and smiling up at him like she can’t wait to attack.
Lovely.
Looks like I’m going to have to endure yet another morning guest.
“Hey Aub,” I yell out as I reach them. “You ready? I want to get out of here.”
Aubrey’s glazed-over eyes find mine and an easy smile stretches his face. “Abby!” he slurs. “This is Pamela. Pamela, my sister, Abby.” He waves a hand back and forth between us. I nod, not really feeling like chit-chat. “Pamela is going to be joining us at home this evening.”
“Fabulous,” I deadpan. “Where’s Xander?”
Aubrey shrugs, wrapping his arm around Pamela’s all too willing shoulders. “He went off a little while ago with some girl.”
I groan. “Fine, I’ll go find him. Just meet me at the car in five.”
Aubrey nods, waving me away. I spin around on my heels and make my way back through the kitchen toward the back of other side of the house, where there are three doors in a row off of a small hallway.
“Which one first?” I muse aloud playing my own version of eeny meeny miny mo. I knock softly on the first door, but with no answer, I hesitantly open it.
Bathroom.
Okay. On to the next. I repeat the process and this one is a closet. I realize that I don’t actually know if Xander is back here or if he’s upstairs. The thought of walking in on him with a girl makes my stomach roll. Maybe I should just text him and see if he responds? I reach into my bag, that’s hanging by my hip and as I finally locate my phone within its confines, the third door opens.
Xander walks out with red glassy eyes, flushed cheeks, disheveled hair and fingers in the process of zipping up his fly.
I freeze where I’m standing.
My breath catches in my lungs as a girl comes up from behind him, draping a hand over his shoulder seductively, using the other hand to wipe a finger across her bottom lip. She’s got long strawberry red hair and light green eyes, I think. It’s hard to tell in the dim hallway.
She’s pretty.
They haven’t noticed me yet and for a second I wonder if I have enough time to flee.
But then she starts to speak to him and I find I can no longer move. “So, that was fun,” she squeals and her high-pitched voice makes both Xander and I wince.
He shakes his head. “Um. Yeah . . .” he trails off, obviously not knowing her name.
And I feel sick.
Worst of all, I hate that I do.
I’ve seen Xander with girls before. This is not new and I’ve seen Aubrey with way too many to count. But for some reason, witnessing this moment, the way he looks in this moment, makes my heart hurt.
I turn to leave. I can’t be here.
“Abby?” Xander practically slurs out my name and I freeze once again.
“No,” the girl giggles shrilly. “That’s not my name. Why do you keep calling me that? That’s like the third time you’ve called me Abby.” I feel my eyes widen, my back still to them. “My name is Ally,” she emphasizes her name like he somehow cares to know.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” Xander says quietly, before coming up to me, leaving the annoying giggling girl behind. “What are you doing back here?” He’s all but accusing me, like I’m doing something wrong just by standing outside the door.
And maybe I am.
Maybe I’m the one in the wrong for not knowing how to feel about him saying my name when he was with her. Ally and Abby are similar and Xander is drunk enough that he probably just said the familiar A name. He doesn’t seem bothered by what she said about him saying my name while they were together.
So why am I?
“I—uh.” I can’t look at him as he stands in front of me now. I swallow hard. “I was looking for you. I wanted to leave and was wondering if you wanted a ride back.” My voice is so weak and my eyes are fixed on the floor in front of us, staring at my damn sneakers.
“You found me.” His hand comes up to my chin, lifting my face and my eyes to his glazed dark ones. “Something bothering you, Abby? Something you’d like to say?” I wish he would stop saying my name. It’s almost like he’s doing it to get a reaction out of me. His eyes scan around my face.
“Wait,” Ally with the shrillest voice on the planet says, coming up to join my own personal nightmare. “You’re Abby?”
I want to die. Right now. I wish something would come up out of the floor and swallow me whole. She giggles again and I swear it’s like fingernails on a goddamn chalkboard.
“I just thought you misheard my name all this time.”
Shoot. Me. Now.
And why on earth does this stupid, brainless, girl think it’s funny?
“Where’s Brandon?” Xander asks with an unmistakable edge, looking around like he’s expecting him to materialize any moment. He’s completely untroubled by the fact that this girl just called him out, again, for saying my name.
“I don’t know. Somewhere in the house.” My tone is clipped. “Are you ready to go or are you staying with your friend here?” I nod my head back towards the girl I cannot look at.
I don’t wait for his answer because I need out of here this very instant. Xander says something to the girl that I cannot hear and then he’s next to me. Walking alongside as casual as ever. Totally and completely unaffected. I make my way through the house and out the front door to see Aubrey and Pamela going at it up against my car.
Could this night get any worse?
I hit the unlock button on my clicker that causes a double beep and the headlights to flash. They break apart instantly, which was of course the point. I’m inside and starting the car before I can think about anything else. Before I can notice that Aubrey and his blonde de jour are mauling each other in the backseat. Before I can notice Xander sitting next to me
in the front seat, watching me as he pretends nothing happened.
And maybe that’s how I should be too.
It doesn’t bother him, so why does it bother me so much?
I turn up the music playing through the Bluetooth so I don’t have to hear the sound of Aubrey’s smacking lips and her excessive moans. I can’t get us home fast enough and when I pull my car into my designated garage spot, I turn off the car and I’m out the door in record time.
Mercifully, Aubrey and Pamela call it quits as we all ride up in the elevator together in silence. Tossing my keys on the entry table, I scramble for my room. I need to shower off the stink of that party and this night and just go to sleep.
But just as my hand reaches the knob of my door, I hear Xander call out to me, “Good night, Abby.”
And there it is.
Right there.
The way he says my name with so much heat and seduction makes my skin crawl in so many different ways I hardly know how to analyze it. I twist around to see him standing in front of his door, which is really just a few feet from mine. I’m tempted to yell a what-the-fuck at him. I’m tempted to scream and curse him for what he just did to me. For making me feel things that I know I should not feel.
For all of it.
But then he speaks and ruins everything inside of me.
“Don’t let that little scene back there go to your pretty head. I was so drunk I barely knew my name, let alone hers.”
And then he opens the door to his room, walks inside, and shuts it behind him.
CHAPTER 11
IT’S STILL PITCH BLACK OUTSIDE when I wake up. Normally I don’t run on Sundays, but I figured that after last night I could use a really good one to help clear my mind. I get dressed quickly in the dark of my room that is only illuminated by the glowing red numbers on my alarm clock. Padding quietly through my apartment, I wonder if Aubrey’s chippie will be gone by the time I get back.
I hope so.
Shutting the door softly behind me, I head for the stairs in lieu of the elevator. The second my sneakers hit the cold concrete, I’m off. The frigid predawn wind blows across my face and through my swinging ponytail. And though I’m trying really hard for it not to happen, my mind automatically goes back to last night.