“Babe,” he gasps, his eyes wide. He starts to scramble after me, but I’m already gone, slamming the door behind me, the sound drowned by the thumping music.
Knowing Colby all too well, I make a break for it while trying not to think about the agonizing sting in my chest. I’m not about to have this argument out in the middle of a private party surrounded by a bunch of rich kids who are only going to laugh at my humiliation. All I want is to get out of here, get my ass home, and lock the door. The second I take off, Colby won’t be able to come after me. He’ll be stuck here, figuring out how to get himself home, and by the time his remaining two brain cells figure it out, it’ll be far too late.
Bodies cram the stairs, and I squeeze through them, shouldering my way past jocks of all shapes and sizes. Unfamiliar faces ripple with cocky grins as I pass them, their hands groping at my ass, seeing me as nothing but fresh meat.
Making my way to the bottom, I hear Colby calling my name from the top and risk glancing back. His shirt is unbuttoned and to anybody looking, it’s clear that he just got sprung doing something that he shouldn’t have been. But lucky for me, he’s had far too much to drink to concentrate on the crowd below. He scans over the bodies and I’m not going to lie, for once, I’m glad I’m vertically challenged.
I easily get lost in the crowd and beeline for the absurdly grand entrance of the home, trying to remember my way there. This place is like a maze, the dancing bodies and dark, flashing lights not making it any easier.
Taking a left, I try to peer around the bodies and crash straight into a hard wall of muscle, a red solo cup flying out of the guy’s hand and drenching his tight black shirt. “Oh fuck,” I screech, my stare snapping up to find a set of dark eyes glaring back at me.
Beer soaks through the guy’s shirt, sticking the material to his wide, toned chest, and if he weren’t so fucking terrifying, I might even take a moment to gape at how gorgeous he is. He’s tall and muscular with dark brown hair that probably shimmers in the sun and a jaw sharp enough to slice a woman’s underwear right off her body. Sleeves of tattoos wind up each of his arms, the tops of them peeking out around the neckline of his shirt and making something clench deep inside of me.
But those eyes. Fuck, they’re scary. These are the kind of eyes that are capable of destroying a woman.
He glares at me, and even though barely a moment has passed, he holds my stare hostage, every passing second making me feel as though I’m getting smaller and smaller. I struggle to catch my breath, absolutely certain that I’d rather deal with Colby than be stuck in this awkward stare-off with this dude. “I, ummm … I’m sorry. I was just trying to find my way out of here,” I tell him. “I didn’t mean to ruin your shirt.”
The guy clenches his jaw, and I shrink further under his monopolizing stare, even more so when his hand crushes the empty solo cup in anger. My knees weaken and my heart starts to race, certain that he’s about to curse me out and destroy me in one simple go.
Feet, meet the floor. NOW FUCKING WALK ACROSS IT. NO. RUN. Run as fast as you can.
Realizing that he’s more than content with staring at me until I wet my pants, I go to sidestep around him when another guy pushes in beside him, throwing his muscular arm over his shoulders, a drink in hand. He’s gorgeous with his flirty smile and sandy blonde hair. His gaze sails over me, his eyes lighting with the challenge. “Oh, fresh me—” he says before cutting himself off and scrunching his face in disgust, pulling back from his friend. “Bro, what the fuck? You’re drenched.”
Scary dude grunts, still not taking his eyes off me. “I know, and I have this little bitch to thank for it.”
His attitude rubs me the wrong way and my brow shoots up. “Excuse you?” I demand, my fiery, public-school attitude rearing its ugly head. “I’m just trying to get out of here. You’re the idiot not watching where he’s going. This isn’t all on me.”
His flirty friend laughs and my gaze darts to the way his button-down shirt gapes in the front, showing off his strong, tanned pecs. He watches me, his intrigue growing by the second, and I’m not going to lie, his attention is fun, but I’m in no mood for eighteen-year-old dudes and their need to get their dicks wet. “Shit, bro. This one’s got a bite as well as a bark. I wonder what else she can do.”