Nothing But Wild (Malibu University 2)

“He’s at the bar,” Reagan remarks.

All of us turn to find Dallas leaning against the bar, waiting to be served. His heavy-lidded eyes meet mine and he grins from ear to ear, practically bludgeoning me with his sex appeal. As if I needed more material for my dirty daydreams.

Zoe groans. “Do I have to?”

“I’d appreciate it.”

“That’s asking a lot.”

“I’ll owe you,” Reagan presses, a sly smile growing on his handsome face. It’s nice to see him smile for a change.

“Yes. You will.”

Everyone’s attention returns to Dallas, who’s approaching quickly. The urge to flee kicks me in the pants. After indicating to Blake that I’m heading to the ladies room, I take off across the dance floor, march down a dimly lit hallway, and find it. Inside the bathroom, I pass by the mirror and stop short. The image staring back at me is enough to make anyone stop and stare.

I am one hot mess. My shirt––my black shirt, thank God––may as well be painted on. I keep poking at my pointed nipples and they bounce right back. The black eyeliner Zoe applied a few hours ago is halfway down my face. And my long hair looks like it’s been back combed for an hour. This is going to take some effort to clean up.

While I get busy doing that, the girl standing next to me keeps stealing glances in the mirror while she applies fresh gloss. She’s whippet thin and very pretty, wearing a minidress that looks right off the runway. Enviously, I stare at her long, shapely legs. I’d kill for those legs.

Slamming the applicator back in the tube, her black almond-shaped eyes meet mine in the mirror. “I’d kill for your boobs,” she flatly announces, then proceeds out the door without a backward glance.

The shock takes a minute to wear off. As soon as it does, it morphs into intrigue. Is that what we’re all doing? Going around envying the next person instead of recognizing the best aspects of ourselves? I know I’m guilty of it. I can’t even tally how many times I’ve done it unconsciously. It seems wrong for some reason. And something else to add to the long list of things I need to change.

Dazedly, I walk out into the dark hallway. The only sources of light are a bunch of neon word signs hanging on the walls, each one emitting a different color.

“Are you avoiding me?” a familiar male voice queries. He’s leaning against the wall next to a sign that reads Stay Wild with his arms crossed, the neon glow outlining his profile. Bathed in blue light, most people would look sinister. Not Dallas. It only compliments his perfection. Which seems par for the course.

His gaze slowly slides from my face to my heels, my skin burning from his open and deliberate examination and it has nothing to do with shame. One heavy-lidded look from him and my body lights up like the Vegas strip at night.

“Are you?” he repeats.

Rooted to the floor, I shake my head. People walk between us. Some stumbling drunkenly. A few necks snap to get a second look at him. And yet it doesn’t break the heightened sense of awareness I’m feeling. We may as well be alone.

“Then why does it feel like you are?”

Pushing off the wall, he swaggers over with deliberate slowness. “You weren’t sick, were you…”

I plead the Fifth.

He nods. “It was just a kiss, Dora. We’ve kissed before, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“I haven’t. T-trust me,” I mumble under my breath.

When he reaches me, he plants a hand on the wall next to my head. “Screw it, let’s do it.”

“E-Excuse me?” I say shocked breathless.

“Screw it, let’s do it,” he repeats. Smiling wickedly, he points to the glowing pink word sign a few inches to the right of us.

Planting a hand on his chest, I push and he goes back easily. Then I make a break for it, heading for the dance floor. Number 8 on my Eff-It list will never happen––nor will number 9 for that matter––if I don’t put some distance between us. He’s too much fun to be around, too much of a temptation, he’s too much period.

Alice and Rea are gone by the time I return, and Blake and Zoe are dancing with a bunch of guys. It’s time to put my actions where my intentions are so I start dancing too. It doesn’t take long before one the guys surrounding Zoe is grinding up against my behind.

That’s when I hear “Hey, man, she’s underage. I’d look elsewhere if I were you.”

I glance over my shoulder at the grinder who seems seriously spooked. He glares at me.

“H-He’s lying.”

“She’s not worth the trouble, bro. Walk away.”

As he’s staring me down with an expression of total revulsion, the grinder backs away, eventually disappearing into the crowd. I look up with a glare of my own and find Dallas’s smile is one for the books.