Crush (9 page)

This wasn’t so much of a dance as it was a seduction.

Heat flooded my insides as his arms circled me again, and he pressed the palm of his hands into the small of my back, melding us closer together. It felt like there was something inside the both of us, fighting to get out, and suddenly I noticed Tamara over his shoulder, giving me an odd look as she danced with Ben.

Her expression jarred me back to reality, and I pulled away. This was wrong. It didn’t matter if Brad and I both wanted each other. We were family now, and this wasn’t how family members were supposed to behave around each other.

“I have to go,” I mumbled, avoiding Brad’s eyes before turning and slipping into the writhing crowd. I didn’t turn back to see if he was following me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jeremy talking to some random guys near one of the windows, and I carefully avoided him as I stole past the group and headed up the stairs of the frat house. I felt a little bad about ditching him earlier, but on the other hand, I didn’t feel as if he deserved much of an explanation.

Besides, I needed some space from people at the moment so I could collect my scattered thoughts and cool off a little after those fiery moments on the dancefloor. I reached the top of the stairs, took my heels off and quietly padded down the spacious hallway. The cool floorboards provided some welcome respite from where the shoes had been rubbing against my feet, and I sighed with relief.

Most of the bedroom doors were open, and as I walked past them, I saw that the rooms were all occupied by drunken partygoers, lecherously making out in various stages of undress. Wow. This party was really crazy. Personally, if I were hooking up with some guy, I’d prefer the door to be closed, but to each their own.

One room wasn’t open, and I stopped outside it, casting my eyes over a piece of paper which had been taped to the door. It was a class schedule, and I raised my eyebrows as I saw what was written on the top in fine print.
Bradley Eriksson – Fall Semester 2015.

So this was Brad’s room. Out of curiosity, I tried the door handle and immediately realized that it wasn’t locked. Hmm. I guess he wouldn’t mind if I went into his room to get a few minutes of peace and quiet.

I stepped inside and closed the door, and then gazed around the room. It wasn’t at all what I’d expected it to be like. I’d thought most frat guys would have bedroom floors littered with condom wrappers and empty cans, and walls plastered with posters of half-naked women. But not Brad. His room was tidy, aside from his desk, which was scattered with files and papers.

A shelf above the desk was filled with books, and I ran a hand over the spines. Most of the books were biology, physics and chemistry-related, but there were a few fiction novels in the mix as well. I guess he liked to read, and I was pleasantly surprised to learn that. I’d always loved books, but so many people I knew seemed to be proud of the fact that they didn’t read at all. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t mind the occasional Netflix binge, but I’d prefer a good book over a TV show any day.

I turned my attention to the bed, which had been neatly made, and I sat down on one edge before looking at his right-hand bedside table. There was a framed photo of him and Karen sitting on it, and I picked it up and stared at it. He had his arm slung around her in the picture, and their faces were beaming with happiness.

It was really sweet how much he cared about his Mom. Most guys his age wouldn’t be caught dead with family photos in their rooms, but he obviously didn’t give a crap what anyone thought. I had to respect that.

Suddenly I felt bad for invading his personal space. The door hadn’t been locked, but that didn’t mean I was automatically allowed to come in here and look at all his stuff. I was about to stand up to leave when I heard the door open on the other side of the room. Crap. It was probably Brad, and now he was going to think I was going through his stuff.

It was too late to sneak out now.

Oops.

CHAPTER NINE

BRAD

I’d been searching the house for Mia for ten minutes now, and I’d all but given up. She must have taken a cab and left. Sighing, I headed up to my room to get a few minutes of silence so I could try to call her, and I twisted the doorknob and stepped inside.

Finally, a few minutes out of the crowded craziness that was the Halloween party. Only I wasn’t alone.

Found her.

Mia was in my room. As soon as she saw me, she jumped off my bed like a scalded cat, her features etched with guilt and apprehension.

“Wow, you’re already in my bedroom. It’s like shooting fish in a barrel,” I joked.

She wrinkled her nose at my jibe. “Very funny. I bet your brain feels all shiny and new right now.”

“Because I’ve never used it? C’mon, Mia, that’s the oldest burn in the book. So this is where you ran off to, huh? I’ve been looking for you.”

She’d vanished from my arms after our dance. I guess I’d taken things a bit too far while we were dancing, but it had been impossible not to. Her perfume alone was intoxicating to me, and when I’d grabbed her and held her close, everything else about her had driven me into a state of arousal which I could barely control.

She cast her eyes to the ground. “Yeah. Sorry,” she mumbled. “I needed some peace and quiet for a moment, and I saw that your door was unlocked. I should’ve asked you first.”

“Don’t stress about it. You’re welcome in here anytime,” I said.

She raised an eyebrow.

“Because you’re family now,” I hastily added. “So my room is your room, and so on.”

“Oh. Okay. Well, I’m sorry anyway. Did that Rose girl come back to annoy you downstairs after I…after I left?”

“Nah, I think I’ve lost her for the night. What about your little friend Jeremy?” I asked.

She shrugged. “He didn’t see me come up here. He’s probably still downstairs, insulting women and setting society back by fifty years.”

I snorted with amusement. “Probably. I guess you have to kiss a few frogs before you find your prince, huh?”

She sat on the bed again, a flash of emotion in her eyes.

“Uh, did I say something wrong?” I asked.

She shook her head. “No, it’s just…my Mom said that to me not long before she died.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to remind you of that.”

“No, it’s fine. It was a sad time, but in the exact moment she said that phrase to me, she was smiling and joking around, saying that I didn’t have to literally kiss frogs. I guess it’s actually a happy memory of her.” She smiled and continued. “I suppose if that saying is true, then that makes you one of the frogs?”

“I prefer ‘toad’, thank you very much,” I replied as images of our heated kiss in Biloxi filled my head.

“I guess you do look like a toad.”

I grinned, then sat on the end of the bed and hesitated for a few seconds. “This is gonna sound awkward as hell, so I apologize in advance. But with what you were just talking about
—
with your Mom and all
—
I think you should know…she’d be really proud if she saw you today. I mean, look at you. You’re smart as anything, and you’re gonna be a bigshot lawyer one day. That’s awesome.”

She smiled weakly. “Thanks, Brad. That’s really nice of you to say. But I’d hardly call my career aspirations ‘bigshot lawyer’. I don’t care about the money all that much. I just want to help people.”

“Yeah, I get you.”

“You do?” she said, one eyebrow raised. “I thought you were all about the money. At least that’s what it seemed like when we first met. Plus I’ve heard you talking to my Dad about it a few times.”

I shook my head. “Shit, I guess I did come across that way, huh? It’s not exactly like that. I do care about helping people, and honestly, medical science is interesting as hell. But I also want to make a fair amount of money one day, not for myself, but for my Mom.”

“Your Mom?”

“Yeah. My bio dad left her when she was pregnant with me. It was really hard for her to raise me on her own. We never had much, but she did her best. Then when I was twelve, she met Vince. That’s the guy she was married to before your Dad. He helped her out with money, but he treated her like shit. So I decided that I wanted to make enough to give her everything she ever wanted to pay her back for sacrificing so much for me. Also, I didn’t want her to ever feel like she had to rely on another asshole to take care of her again. There are a lot of Vinces in this world.”

I’d never told any other girl about that part of my life before. They all assumed I came from some rich family and had a perfect upbringing, and I never corrected them. I simply didn’t want any of them knowing anything about me that might make me seem vulnerable, but with Mia, I didn’t care so much. I
wanted
her to know everything about me; my strengths, my weaknesses, my past, and my dreams.

She gazed at me, her eyebrows furrowed with concern. “Brad, you don’t think my Dad is like that, do you? Believe me, he’d never hurt your Mom.”

I nodded. “I know. He’s a decent guy. I have to admit, I was a bit worried at first when she decided to spring the wedding on me without letting me get to know him, but I’ve realized since then that it’s okay. Your Dad is great. You’re lucky to have him.”

“Yeah, I guess I am,” she said softly.

We sat in silence for a moment, pondering our situation.

“So, anyway,” I said. “I know we got off to a rocky start, but there’s no reason we can’t at least try to be friends now. What d’ya say?”

She smiled. “Yeah. You’re right. Friends…”

Something about the way the word ‘friends’ rolled off her tongue made me think there was another hidden meaning in there somewhere, but I didn’t want to push my luck. Instead I extended a hand to her.

“Let’s shake on it.”

As soon as she took my hand, I felt it again
—
that same spark I’d felt when I first touched her in the pool down in Biloxi.

“Can I ask you something?” she asked.

“Anytime.”

“Do you think I’m a bitch?” she asked, her eyes wide.

“Huh? No. You’re confrontational sometimes, and you’re definitely a smartass, but you’re not a bitch. Why?”

“Oh, it’s just a few things. I’ve been feeling like I really overreacted that time in Biloxi. You know, when we got off to the so-called rocky start.”

I held my hands up. “Nah, you didn’t overreact. I was a dick. If I didn’t know that, I wouldn’t have felt the need to apologize, but I did. You had every right to be mad. It doesn’t make you a bitch to stand up for yourself.”

“It’s not just that. It’s that Jeremy guy as well. I think I might be too sensitive. I get offended way too easily.”

“Nope. He’s actually an asshole, believe me.”

“I guess,” she said with a sigh. “It’s just hard for me to meet guys. I’m always so busy, and there always seems to be something about them which offends me and puts me off. Maybe I’m too picky.”

“Picky is good. It means you don’t take shit from people,” I said. “But you know what your problem might be?”

“What?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“You’re way too conservative.”

“How do you mean?” she asked.

I chuckled. “Even the way you worded that question was conservative. Reserved. Of course you find it hard to meet guys
—
you’re always stuck in the library with your nose in a pile of research papers. On your birthday weekend, you brought home an entire mountain of notes to study, and even now, you’re meant to be at a party downstairs, and you’re up here instead. You never really let loose and have fun, do you?”

She cast her eyes down. “Um…yes I do.”

“Oh really? Name one occasion when you’ve thrown caution to the wind and done something totally wild.”

She looked up at me, and I could see her answer in her eyes. She was still thinking about the time in Biloxi when we’d practically mauled each other in the pool within five minutes of meeting each other. Suddenly the mood in the room was awkward, and I was worried that I’d embarrassed her.

“Anyway, prove it to me. Prove that you can let loose on occasion,” I said, quickly changing the subject. “Do some shots with me. That’s a sorta wild thing to do, right?”

She laughed, clearly glad for the change in subject as I crossed the room and retrieved an unopened bottle of vodka and two shot glasses from a drawer. “Doing shots in a frat house? I’d hardly call that wild. That’s more along the lines of something that everyone who goes to college does at some point,” she said.

“But have you ever done it?” I asked, flashing her a cheeky grin.

“No,” she said reluctantly. “I mean, I did have a beer downstairs earlier.”

“One beer doesn’t maketh a shot,” I said, putting on my best Shakespearean voice. “But you’re right. Let’s make it more interesting. We’ll call it a competition. Let’s see who can down a shot the fastest.”

“You’re on. But if I end up having to get my stomach pumped, you’re paying for my hospital stay.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t let you drink that much,” I said.

She opened her mouth like she was about to say something and then shook her head.

“What?” I asked. “What were you gonna say?”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” she said. “I just remembered something funny I read online. It said, ‘I’ll drink responsibly when there’s a vodka called Responsibly’.”

I chuckled and retrieved a black marker from my desk, and then wrote the word ‘responsibly’ in capital letters across the bottle’s label. “There. Now we’re officially drinking responsibly.”

“I thought the point of this was for me to be a little wild, not responsible,” she said as we sat down together, cross-legged on the bed.

“Touché,” I said, pouring her a shot and handing it to her. “Cheers.”

We clinked our glasses together, and then we gulped the liquid down as fast as possible. Her features drew together in a scowl as she finished hers only a second after mine. “Ugh. Now I remember why I don’t drink vodka. It tastes like paint thinner,” she said.

“You’re just saying that because I beat you. Excuses, excuses.”

“Shut up. Pour me another and we’ll see who wins. Best of three?”

“You sure you can handle that much?” I asked.

She nodded. I made her next shot much smaller than mine, hoping she wouldn’t notice. I didn’t want her to get too drunk. I knew a lot of guys who got chicks wasted to try and hook up with them, and I despised them for it. If a girl wanted a guy, she didn’t need to be plied with drinks to give consent. That sort of behavior was fucked up, and if I ever saw it happening at a party, I immediately pulled the girl away and called her a cab. That shit wasn’t going to happen on my watch.

We downed two more shots, and because Mia’s were way smaller, she easily won the next two rounds of our game.

“All right. I concede. You’re better at this than me,” I said.

“I’m not an idiot. You let me win. A baby could do a bigger shot than the ones you poured me.”

I feigned ignorance. “Huh? I didn’t let you win. But remind me to never leave you in charge of any babies…”

She giggled, and the sound made my heart skip a beat. That had never happened to me before. It sounded like something a woman in a romance novel would say, but I could have sworn it actually skipped.

“So what should we do now?” she asked. Her face looked a little flushed, and judging by the way the vodka was already starting to hit me, I guessed she was feeling a little tipsy as well.

“Hmm…let’s see…something else wild. Did you ever play truth or dare?” I asked.

She wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, back in grade school. I think we’re a little old for that now.”

I chuckled. “Trust me, it’s way more fun as adults. Things can definitely get crazy.”

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “Fine. You go first. Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“What do your tattoos mean?” she asked.

“Honestly? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I was an idiotic, rebellious seventeen-year-old when I got them. I just picked them because they looked cool. That’s it. They don’t hold some sort of special meaning to me. If I get one ever again, it’s gonna mean something.”

“Oh.”

“Your turn. Truth or dare.”

“Um…truth, I guess.”

“Who’s the hottest guy you’ve ever hooked up with?” I asked.

An enigmatic smile crept across her face. “Define ‘hooking up’,” she said.

“Absolutely any form of passionate physical contact between you and a guy,” I said. “Kissing, touching…and so on.”

She knew I was baiting her, and she cast her eyes down before looking up at me again, her lips still turned up in a smile. “Well, in that case, I guess I’d have to say…this totally weird guy I met on vacation one time. He was the hottest by far.”

“Totally weird guy, huh?”

She nodded, and I grinned back at her, leaning in a little closer. “And this vacation you met the weird yet hot guy on…where was it?”