Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 91299 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91299 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
He came into class the next day a little cool. I caught him giving me long glances, and part of me—the stupid side—wanted to talk to him more, see if I could get more out of him, but he got up and left as soon as class was over.
After he gets his beer and steps back a few feet, I let out a sigh of relief.
Penelope, who I elbowed when he showed up, studies him over my shoulder. She recognizes him too. “Ah, Blaze. He’s not the same, you know. I mean, I see him smiling, but Ryker says he’s moody.” She frowns and looks back at me. “I feel like we haven’t talked much. Are you doing okay?”
I toss back my drink. “I will be as soon as I get another one of these in me.” It has been difficult sitting next to him in class. How am I going to be able to finish the semester?
Her eyes take in my face. “You aren’t seeing anyone. You won’t even entertain the idea of me setting you up. There’s a cute guy in one of my classes. I think you’d like—”
I stop her with a pointed look. “I have a date coming up. I’m fine.” I consider telling her about Mike, but I don’t. The truth is, I’m not looking forward to it.
She sighs, clinking her glass with mine. “Fine, I’ll shut up. I’ve missed this with you.”
“Well, good thing Ryker wanted to study.”
She blushes. “He’ll see me later at the house.”
I exhale. Of course. Glad I got earplugs.
We order another round, and I’m acutely aware that Blaze hasn’t moved from a spot near the fridge. I refuse to look at him head-on, in case I’m not incognito enough for him. I keep facing the bar, but my ears strain to hear him talking.
And why? Hasn’t he made it plain he doesn’t want me anymore?
FTS.
“Let’s go downstairs,” I say, and we head that way.
The basement is dark and we take the steps carefully, passing people with different styles of masks. I take in every person, and it’s easy to recognize a few. Dillon, shaved head and all, is on the dance floor with a girl in his arms. I recognize some Thetas and keep my head down. You can’t go to school here and be Greek and not know other Greeks, but with my pink hair covered, I’m feeling confident, especially when we breeze past the Theta president and she doesn’t give us a second look.
Margo drifts away to check out the back sitting area where a group of Thetas are talking—eavesdropping, probably. Penelope darts to the restroom, and I lean against the wall and watch the gyrating bodies on the dance floor.
A few minutes later, a tall guy appears in front of me. Broad and muscular, he’s dressed in a black long-sleeved fisherman-style sweater. His mask fits smaller on his face, plain and simple.
My heart dips as I take in the way his free hand taps his leg.
I’d know him anywhere.
He could be in a football stadium with no number on his jersey, and I’d be able to point him out.
Being nonchalant, I move to walk around him, but there’s nowhere to go. People block me at every point.
“Hey there, great party.” He sips on his beer, eyes on my face. “Think I’ll stand here a sec and let the place clear out. You mind?”
“Sure. Great party!” I squeak. Crap. It sounds like I’ve been sucking helium. I clear my throat and try to ease the tension in my shoulders.
He’s right here in front of me and he looks…sexy as fuck. His hair is swept back, and my eyes graze over him, lingering on that spot of bare skin I see around his wrist, how the dark hair curls, how strong his fingers look as he holds the cup and takes a sip of his drink. All it takes is a wrist and fingers and I’m hot and bothered. SMN. Shoot me now.
“This your first party of the semester?” he asks me.
“Yeah, freshman here,” I say, smiling as I throw some Southern in my voice. At least it’s not squeaky.
His lips kick up. “Nice. Me too, go figure. You look familiar. Have we met?”
I shake my head no.
“Really? Huh. Guess not.” He glances around at the people milling past us, and I wait with bated breath to see if anyone recognizes him, but it seems we’re blending in for the moment.
Someone pushes against him from behind, and he’s jostled forward. He bumps into me, his chest pressing into mine before he steps back. I inhale his scent and it washes over me, making me shiver.
His hand takes my arm when I lose my footing. “Did I step on your toes? I’m sorry. These parties are ridiculous.”
We look down at my newly painted red toes. He did give me a good crunch, but I mumble a no.