As I yank my T-shirt over my head, Colton asks, “Are you going to Alyssa’s party?”
I shrug and try to play off the question. Not because I haven’t given the invitation any consideration. You bet your damn ass I have. It’s more that I don’t want to rub it in his face. There are some couples who can part ways and remain friends.
Alyssa and Colton are not one of those couples.
But yeah, I have every intention of showing up.
Mia has spent the last couple of years avoiding me. Not that she would ever admit it, but I’ve caught glimpses of her on campus as she did a quick about-face and hightailed it in the opposite direction. One time is a coincidence and can be overlooked. More than that…
Not so much.
When Colton remains silent, I say, “You could always crash the party.”
“Somehow I don’t think that would go over well.”
“Have you considered giving her a gift she really wants?” When he raises a brow, I smirk. “Like your balls on a silver platter?”
He wads up his sweaty practice jersey and throws it at my face. I bat it away before it ever makes contact.
“You’re a dick,” he laughs.
I grin, glad the tension has been broken. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
Chapter Eleven
Mia
“Welcome home, bitch,” I shout, attempting to be heard over the pulsing beat of techno music as we clink our shots of Fireball together and toss them back. The cinnamon flavored liquor burns a fiery trail down my throat, killing any bacteria in its path.
“Holy shit, that’s terrible!” I sputter, coughing as tears gather in my eyes. “No more shots. I’m tapping out.”
She laughs and orders another round.
Alyssa is in her element, chatting with friends who have shown up to celebrate her return to Wesley. For the festivities, she bought a short sparkly silver dress that clings to every curve. Her hair has been curled and left loose so it can float around her bare shoulders. The girl looks seriously hot. And I’m not the only one who thinks so either. There’s been a ton of guys sniffing around and she’s been flirting with all of them.
Not that I’ve been keeping track, but my guess is that she’s downed at least half a dozen shots. More impressive than that, she’s standing upright and doesn’t look the least bit affected. Apparently, dancing wasn’t the only thing she worked on in England.
My head is already swimming, and I haven’t consumed nearly as much. A few mixers and three shots.
When a song with a great beat comes on, Alyssa squeals and grabs my hand, dragging me to the dance floor. “I freaking love this one!”
We shove our way through the crush of bodies before carving out a tiny space. Our hands go in the air as we lose ourselves in the music. It’s not difficult. All I have to do is close my eyes and everything that has been nagging at me melts away into nothingness. The mounting stress of applying to law school and trying to figure out the next chapter of my life floats away on the beat.
One song bleeds into the next and we continue to shake our asses, shouting the lyrics in each other’s faces. At one point, I grab Alyssa’s hand and twirl her around. A smile lights up her face as she laughs hysterically.
Friends come and go as the music continues.
As the DJ plays another song, Alyssa leans in and shouts, “I need to use the bathroom.”
“Want me to come with you?”
“Nah.” With a shake of her head, she waves me off. “I’ll be back in a sec, stay here so I can find you.”
Works for me.
In the blink of an eye, she’s swallowed up by the crowd. I’m surrounded by a writhing mass of bodies. The club is dark with strobe lights that flicker. It’s difficult to tell what limbs belong to which bodies. Music reverberates off the walls before seeping into my bones. Even though I’m alone, it’s all too easy to lose myself in the rhythm.
Alcohol pounds through my system, making me feel alive and free. I want this feeling to last forever. Or, at the very least, until the end of the night.
Male hands wrap around my hips and tug me close. I turn my head and find a guy I recognize from a few of my classes. He’s always seemed nice enough.
“Hey, beautiful, want to get out of here?” he slurs.
“No, thanks.” I shake my head, remembering that Alyssa will return from the bathroom any moment.
“Aww, come on,” he growls against my ear, tugging me uncomfortably close. “You’re so damn sexy.”
“Thanks, but I’m not interested.” Why can’t these guys take no for an answer? Is it really that difficult of a concept to comprehend?
As I attempt to knock his hands away, they disappear on their own and a deep voice I recognize all too well says, “You heard her the first time. She’s not interested, so do us both a favor and back off.”