Living at the Frat House - A College Romance

Then my lips part, and Malcolm’s mouth is on mine.

It’s like sweet fire that burns more than any alcohol that I’ve ever had. The goosebumps are back on my skin and my eyes close. I’m breathing him in, basking in the heat of this kiss. Malcolm’s lips are softer than I imagined they would be, and it’s the best kiss that I’ve ever had, even though it’s our first.

Our first? What am I thinking is about to happen here? This is going to be our only kiss. Once Malcolm finds out that I’m just a Tri Delta plant here to complete a dare…

I force the thoughts from my mind—or rather, Malcolm drives them out, when his free hand curls around my waist. This time it’s more than welcome. I want more of him and the solid feel of his body against mine. His tongue sweeps against my lips and another pure burst of heat ripples down my spine as I open for him and let him steal the last of my breath.

I feel hazy when he pulls away. Like the kiss packed the punch of ten drinks of whatever he’s had tonight. I lean back against the wall to catch my breath, but Malcolm is already turning away, stepping in on blondie from earlier.

“Are you messing with my girl?” He reaches out to shove the man back against the doorframe a second time, hard enough I hear wood splintering and cracking.

The guy’s eyes are wide, and he stammers. “I didn’t…I didn’t know that she was your girl.”

Malcolm cocks his head. “It shouldn’t matter whether she’s mine or not. You don’t touch people without permission in this house, do you understand?”

“Yes.”

Malcolm looks him up and down, and I’m glad that I’m not on the other end of that stare. “You’ve been drinking?”

The kid nods. “Yeah.”

“Can you walk home?”

He nods again. “Yeah, my dorm isn’t far. I’m just staying for the recruit meeting.”

A cold smile. “No you’re not,” Malcolm replies. “We don’t accept people who don’t listen to the word no.”

Blondie’s jaw drops open. “Are you serious? But—”

“What did I just say? I’m saying no. Take a hint and get the fuck out of here.” Blondie hesitates, and Malcolm practically snarls. “Now.”

The kid leaves, and Malcolm waits until he’s entirely gone before he takes a step back from me. “Thank you,” I tell him. At least his interaction has given me enough time to catch my breath, after that kiss.

That kiss. My whole body is still tingling, on fire, and all I want is for him to wrap his arms around me again. Pull me close, the same way he just did.

But…

“Not a problem. Like I said, we take harassment seriously.” His half-smile winds its way straight into my gut. I can’t just ignore the fact that I just had the hottest kiss of my life, or that I want him to do it again. “Sorry about the kiss. It tends to get the message through these meatheads’ thick skulls better, not to touch a girl who they know is taken.”

“No, I…” Are you kidding? I want to blurt. Instead, I just swallow, hard. “It’s fine.”

Fine? That’s what I’m going with? After that kiss?

But to judge by the slowly spreading smirk on Malcolm’s face, he knows exactly how more than fine it was.

Still, I swallow again. Make myself add, “I appreciate it.” I hope my tone sounds professional. Buttoned up. Like all I care about is that he helped me out, and not that my knees are still feeling weak from the way he decided to go about it.

“The least I can do for the only girl ever to pledge Granite House,” he says with a grin.

“The only one that’s trying,” I correct him. “You haven’t let me in yet.”

He smirks. “I like your chances.”

I smile too. It seems like he’s warming up to me a little bit. Or maybe he’s just being nice because since the last time we spoke he’s had more to drink and his inhibitions are even lower.

That has to be it.

But he didn’t taste or smell like alcohol when we kissed. He tasted like chocolate and smelled like the cologne I imagined he was the model for.

But that doesn’t mean he wasn’t drinking. He could have had jello shots or a chocolate martini for all I know. “How long till the meeting?”

“Not too long. Usually we let people stay as long as they want, but with classes starting tomorrow even Granite House has to draw the line somewhere, right?”

“Right.”

I wasn’t exactly expecting that, but it’s nice to hear. Because I’m here to study, and I can’t show up to my 8 AM lab after being kept up all night by a raging party. And it is kind of getting hectic. In the next room, someone is doing a keg-stand, and the people are chanting for him to chug. It gets louder and louder until it’s just pure cheering.