by W. Winters
“No problem,” I tell her and take another sip as she walks off. She’s cute but the one girl I want to see hasn’t come through the front door. I’ve been sitting here all night long, the beer right next to me. My back’s against the counter as I face the front door watching everyone shuffle in and out, with the night sky getting darker, the music louder and everyone in here drinking more and more.
James’s family house is the perfect location for these parties. Right off campus and it’s within walking distance to the dorms but also the frat and sorority housing. All you have to do is follow the train tracks up the block and it leads you right here. Walking on the railroad tracks isn’t the best thing to do when you’re drunk, but at least you can’t take a turn down the wrong street.
Just as I down the rest of the beer and think about heading to the pool room in the back, the front door opens and in walks Allison. Her pouty lips are pulled into a curious smile as she tucks her clutch under her arm and closes the door. I like how she leans against the door, taking in the place before pushing off and heading this way.
My eyes follow her, waiting for the moment when she sees me. Her hips sway in the most tempting rhythm as she glances over her shoulder, moving the hair behind her ear and exposing more of her neck. With her black dress and red lips, she’s elegantly beautiful, but it’s tainted.
By the way she walks.
By the expression on her face.
By the way she halts, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip and looking me up and down. I smirk as she lets her eyes roam and then stalks toward me.
“You’re late,” I tell her and that only makes her laugh.
“I come when I’m ready,” she says in a sultry voice. She eyes the keg and then where I’m standing, which is right in the fucking way.
I’m only an observer as she takes a cup off the counter and then slips between me and the keg, settling her ass right against my dick. She takes her time, bending over as much as she can while she fills her cup.
My dick stiffens and the second it does, she winks over her shoulder at me.
Taking a sip of beer, she scoots out from between me and the keg and then turns to face me. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d walked right out of the kitchen, leaving me hanging again.
“Oh, and I always come first too,” she says, holding up her cup and arching her brow. “That’s one of my rules.”
“You’re a tease,” I tell her as my pulse quickens. She holds my gaze and those pale green eyes flicker with heat.
More people filter into the room, a horde of girls all stumbling in their heels and spilling their drinks, laughing as they crowd the kitchen.
Allison doesn’t object when I grab her hand and pull her out of there, heading to the living room on the right.
“It’s loud,” she says, raising her voice and tugging on my hand, stopping me from taking her to the back.
“There’s a rec room this way,” I tell her and move my hand around her waist to keep her moving. I love how she doesn’t protest.
She walks with me through the living room, past the speakers, through the back hall and straight out to the pool room. There are a few arcade games too in the back and there are more people waiting around them than there are playing pool.
I tilt my chin up at Daniel as he stands up, holding the pool cue in his hands and watching the six ball sink straight into a back pocket. He’s an all right guy. Out of all the guys, he’s the one I’ve clicked with most since I moved here. He’s an outsider in a lot of ways. Like me. And I know he only hangs around because of some dealings he’s got going on under the table. It’s not my business and I stay out of it. It’s as simple as that.
The second he sees my Allie Cat, he smiles wider. It’s a triumphant grin and it matches the one on my face when he gives me a nod.
“Aw,” Allison says as she walks toward the side wall where the barstools are set up, “I thought it was going to be empty.” She smirks after saying it and her eyes light up with mischief.
“Like I said, you’re a fucking tease.”
“And you like it,” she says back then lifts the cup to her lips. She doesn’t take her eyes off me, though.
I have to readjust my dick in my pants before I can sit down and watch the pool game.
“Admit it,” she says, her voice a bit stronger than I expected.
“Admit what?” I ask her.
“That you like it.”
“Yeah, so what if I do?” I tell her with confidence. “You already know that.”
“I just like hearing you say it,” she says and shrugs her small shoulders, making the dip in her collarbone that much more pronounced. The second she turns away from me, her cheeks color a beautiful shade and her legs sway. Like she’s shy all of a sudden, just hearing that I like her. I’ll keep that in mind, how easy it is to make her look like that. I like seeing this timid side of her.
“What else do you like to hear?” I ask her, and she just smiles slightly into her cup, tilting it back and taking a larger gulp. “I’ll tell you whatever you want.” My offer goes with the rest unspoken. I’ll give you what you want, you give me what I want. It seems fair as fuck to me.
“Is this the room?” she asks me curiously and tilts her head.
“The room?” I ask her to clarify and she slips her hand up my shirt. Her fingers tickle along my skin as she leans forward. “You know,” she says then licks her lower lip and adds, “the room where everything happens. Or is there an empty bedroom?” As she leans back, she takes her touch with her, leaving me wanting more and wishing there was a room to take her fine ass.
“I’m in the dorms, I don’t stay at the frat house.” She seems surprised by that, so I fill her in. “Kev’s uncle is paying my ride here to keep me out of trouble and Kev thought I’d make a good addition, but this isn’t really my style.”
“Then what is your style, Dean Warren?”
“Doing whatever I have to, so I can hear you say my name just how I’ve been dreaming.”
Her delicate simper widens, and I take a chance, setting my hand on her thigh.
“Oh, the first move has been made,” Allison says sarcastically but leaves my hand right where it is. She shifts on the barstool and it makes the thin fabric on her already short dress ride a little higher. My fingers are so fucking close to the hem, and just beneath that, the apex of her thighs.
“You like it,” I say and then pinch the hem of her dress and pull it down as much as I can before taking the cup from her hand.
“Hey, I wasn’t done,” she says and sulks but I ignore her, walking to the bar and grabbing the vodka and a can of Sprite. I hold it up for her to see and her eyes light up.
“I guess that’ll do,” she says with a devilish glint in her eyes.
I grab the whiskey for me and pour my own drink in a glass.
“No ice?” she asks when I hand her the drink I’ve fixed her and stand in front of her, effectively caging her in.
“You want ice in yours?” I ask her.
“I mean in yours,” she says softly, her voice a bit huskier than it was a moment ago. She says the words quickly as well. As though she’s afraid I’d mistake her questioning my drink for being unhappy with her own.
“No ice in mine. You like it?” I ask her, nodding to the drink in her hand and she nods back, biting down on her lip.
“Good.”
I watch as her breathing comes in harder. I let my left hand fall to her thigh and then slip slowly down, trailing my fingers across her soft skin before gripping the edge of the barstool she’s sitting on. Even with her up this high, I still tower over her. She’s a petite little thing.
“You come on strong,” she says, peeking up at me through her thick lashes. “Do you know that?”
I nod my head once and search her face for her reaction. “I don’t do small talk,” I tell her, thinking that’s what she wants to hear.
“What if I want small talk?” she asks me without any trace of humor in
her voice.
I make a show of taking an exaggerated look out the back window and tell her with a smile, “The weather’s nice tonight.”
She laughs at my stupid joke and the tension eases. Taking a step back, I pull out the barstool next to her further and take a seat.
“It’s hard to get a read on you,” I tell her and take another sip of the whiskey. It warms my chest as it goes down. It’s the good stuff, not that cheap shit I have back at my place.
“Mm-hmm, I’m such a puzzle,” she says flatly although I think it’s meant to be taken with humor. There’s something else there, some hint of truth that keeps me from laughing.
“Where are you from?” I ask her, keeping that small talk suggestion of hers in mind. I thought she’d be a bit easier than this. I know she wants it. And she knows I do too.
“Brunswick,” she says, holding my gaze.
“Small world; I’ve got family in Brunswick,” I tell her and start to think about my mother and the last time I was there. I regret referring to her as family the moment the word is out of my mouth. With both hands on my drink, I try to think of something else to talk about. The beer’s already hitting me though, clouding my mind with memories I don’t want to relive. Thankfully, she changes the subject.
“So, whose place is this?” she asks me and I tilt my head in James’s direction, back by the arcade games. “His father’s.” Spoiled rich kid is a term I’d use to describe James. I don’t really like him. Then again, I don’t much like anyone.
“Lot of alumni here,” she says beneath her breath, glancing at the row of photographs on the walls rather than at James.
“Your family go here?” I ask her and she shakes her head. The only people I know who are here because it’s their family’s college are Kev and James. My family sure as shit didn’t go to college.
“You’re good at small talk,” she says sweetly. “Maybe you should lead with that next time.”
“Next time?” I ask her, cocking a brow and leaning forward.
“Yeah, next time, with the next girl you try to pick up,” she says, and her legs swing slightly from side to side like she’s getting a kick out of teasing me.
“You should know better than that,” I tell her.
“Oh? Is this your last time?” She leans forward slightly. “You’re done with your old ways and I’m the only one for you?” she says, mocking me.
“As in, you should know better than to think I’m giving up on chasing you until I get what I want,” I correct her and hold her gaze. She breaks it though, easing back against the wall and crossing her ankles as she watches the pool game. The hard spheres crashing against one another and the crowd’s reaction when one sinks makes me turn around for a moment.
“I like the chase,” she says and then reaches out to brush her knuckles against my arm. “I bet you could catch me fast if I let you.”
I huff a laugh and smirk at her. “If you let me?”
“Yeah,” she says with a note of temptation in her voice like she’s baiting me, then takes another drink.
“Allie Cat, you don’t fool me. You love this little cat and mouse game.”
“If I’m the cat, that means you’re the mouse?” she asks me and it’s only then that I realize what I said and how I said it. Maybe the whiskey’s already getting to me.
“No, no, you got that wrong. You’re my Allie Cat, but this game we’re playing, I’m the one who’s doing the chasing.”
“Are you now?” she says in a seductive voice as she raises the cup to her lips. I don’t know if it’s the alcohol buzzing through my veins or the way she says it that makes me second-guess myself. She lets out a feminine chuckle into her cup and smiles at me with the hint of a blush creeping up her cheeks.
“I’m just playing with you, Dean,” she says sweetly and slides off the barstool. I widen my legs as she stands between them and pops up on her tiptoes to plant a small kiss on the side of my jaw. I close my eyes, enjoying the soft touch. My fingers slide down the curve of her waist. But she pulls away before I can get more of what I want.
Just as she does, I see Kev and Brant make their way into the room. Allie brushes her fingers along my knuckles and then takes a step back, rocking on her heels.
“You’re cute, but I have to go,” she says and tugs her hands away.
“Already?” I say. She hasn’t even been here for an hour.
“I got shit to do,” she tells me and I immediately bite back, “Yeah, me.”
She gets a laugh out of that, spearing her fingers through her hair and the floral fragrance of her shampoo drifts toward me as she turns on her heels. “I’ll see you on Monday,” she murmurs innocently like I’m just going to watch her go.
“I can at least walk you out,” I offer and stand up, reaching forward to snatch her by her waist.
She lets out a yelp that gets the attention of a few of the guys.
“I think I’m fine,” she tells me and grabs my wrist, moving my hand off her waist.
A crease settles deep in my forehead and I can feel it when I say, “You don’t want me to even walk you out?” I ask the question, but already I’m talking to her back.
She turns around to walk backward, teasing me some more. As she shakes her head, her hair falls over her shoulders, covering up that soft skin of hers. “Not tonight, Dean,” she says.
“I don’t know if this is a test, but that’s bullshit if it is,” I call after her, my feet planted firmly on the floor. Her sweet laugh follows her out of the room and I stay put.
I’ll chase her if she wants, but fuck if I know what’s going through that girl’s mind.
Craziest thing though is that watching her leave only makes me want her more.
11
Allison
My pen scribbles over the numbers, morphing them from identifiable figures to squares of black. I can’t pay attention to the lecture, not when I can feel Dean’s eyes on me.
I can hardly breathe as I close my eyes. I’m so close to the edge, to losing it and falling into a bottomless pit with no way to return. I can feel it now, how liberating it would be to just let go. Years of holding it in, years of doing nothing.
My eyes slowly open to the droning white noise of the professor’s lecture. It’s only then that I see I’ve broken the tip of the pen, the ink seeping into the pages and staining them.
Not just a few sheets but nearly all of them, maybe thirty or forty pages in this notepad. Have I been sitting here that long?
“You okay?” the girl to my right asks. I recognize her face. She has a certain look about her, like someone you could easily trust. Her voice is gentle too. She glances straight ahead and then back at me when I don’t answer, merely staring at her and trying to snap out of it.
“Fine.” I manage to push out the single word.
“I’m Angie, by the way,” the girl whispers as she brushes her curly blond hair away from her face. Then she asks, “Do you need another pen?” She practically mouths the words so she doesn’t disrupt the lecture.
“Oh, no,” I say and wave her off, pushing away all the thoughts. “I’m fine, thanks.”
We share an easy smile like nothing’s happened. I suppose outwardly, nothing has. Just a broken pen and spilled ink on a notebook.
I hear a desk somewhere to the left of and behind me scratch across the floor. Dean. My body begs me to look back, but I don’t.
God, I want to. It’s different with him. A good different in some ways, but so bad in others.
He’s a distraction.
With clammy hands, I reach into my bag and pull out another pen. I rip off a single piece of paper and wrap up the ruined pen, setting it to the side of the desk to toss on the way out.
That scraping sound catches my attention again, but this time Angie’s as well. She looks over her shoulder and then back to the front of the room.
My neck is refuses to budge, all because I can feel his gaze. I know he’s watching and he’s going to want an answer.
Or an explanation. Or maybe neither. Maybe if I just ignore him, he’ll leave me alone.
That’s what I should want, but it hurts to think of that possibility. Inexplicably so.
It’s funny how time passed so slowly before I came here. Every day was agonizingly painful. Now that I’m so very aware I need to make a decision, the class is over before I can let out a breath.
I need to force my body to relax and move normally so I’ll look just like everyone else. The moment I do, I look behind me, arching my neck and succumbing to temptation.
Dean’s dark eyes stare back at me.
I don’t know how I thought for even one second he’d have looked away.
Maybe he has an obsession like I do.
All that anxiety, that fear, it all slips away as the clock ticks and our gazes meet. As though I’m his reflection, his lips lift into a slow smile and mine follow.
Dean could be my personal heroin. And I want a hit. I want it hard and fast.
It terrifies me. But I want that distraction more than ever now. I want him to take me away from this. However he can. I know it’d be simple too. As effortless as jotting down on paper that I want him and exactly where to find me. It would be all too easy.
Time resumes as I wrap my hand around the leaking pen and toss it into the wastebasket at the front of the room. I don’t look up as everyone walks past me heading for the exit, including Angie and her friendly smile. Trying to keep my composure, I head back to my seat, only to peek up and see Dean waiting for me.
I fucking love it. I love how he makes his intentions clear and that he’s willing to give chase, to put himself out there. I love that he wants me.
“What’s on your mind?” he asks me. My first instinct is to joke, to flirt, to keep things light.
If only he knew the truth.
He’s already too close. And I’m too invested.
I should have stopped this before it got this far. A dark and deadly voice in the back of my mind whispers, coaxing in its cadence, It has to happen. It’s meant to be this way.