Looking for Trouble (Nashville U Book 1) (2 page)

When she still doesn’t snap back at me, I walk closer, my arm brushing her shoulder as I pull Meghan past her. My brother Max stands behind her, along with my cousin Emmett and his girlfriend, though I use the term loosely, Liv. Max is glaring at me, but he won’t say anything either. He and Kat are made for each other, neither willing to stand up for themselves or anyone else. The pussy and the kitten. It’s a match made in heaven.

Kat

His arm brushes mine as he walks by, and I flinch. It takes all my self-control not to turn and watch him walk away. Clay says something to Max as he walks past them, but all I can hear are his last words in my head.
Maybe Meghan can teach you how to get a man
. Everybody knows I’ve been hung up on Max since Freshman year of high school. Everybody, but Max. He’s completely oblivious to my feelings, never noticing how hurt I am when he hooks up with some random girl while ignoring me. It breaks my heart every time. Especially since he flips his shit if I try to date. Max doesn’t want me, but he doesn’t seem to want anyone else to either. It’s so confusing.

And Clay, he hated me on sight for reasons I won’t ever understand. His nickname for me is even condescending. He hardly ever refers to me as Kat or Katrina. It makes me feel like I’m about two years old. I just don’t get his animosity. I wasn’t rude or dismissive, although now when I’m around him I tend to speak without thinking. I don’t speak my mind to anyone else, but something about Clay short-circuits my brain, and I say whatever goes through my head before I can stop it.

A second brush against my arm knocks me out of my thoughts to see Meghan beside me, a nasty smile on her face. She glares at me before following him through the crush of bodies on the dance floor, obviously angry I called what she and Clay were doing in the chair “porn.” I know instinctively he’s taking her somewhere a little more secluded, just like I know what they’re going to get up to while they’re there. A spike of something, an emotion I refuse to name, flits through my chest sharply, but I try to ignore it and the way Max watches her hips move as she walks away.

I smack him across the stomach, prompting him to let out an
oof
of breath though I didn’t hit him very hard. His abs are hard, his six-pack taut under his thin t-shirt. My cheeks heat at the thought of them, and I turn away, heading for the table where the team sits, cautious to sit as far from Clay’s vacated seat as possible. I might catch something nasty if I sit too close. Max sits on one side of me, while Clay’s friends sit on the other side of the table, cutting up and making sexist remarks about the girls that keep trying to grab their attention.

Warm breath tickles my ear as Max leans in to whisper in it. “Ignore Clay. You know he’s a first-class jerk. He just likes to rile you up.” I nod but keep my eyes on the table. I do know that, but right now, the thing that bothers me the most isn’t Clay, it’s the fact that there was lust in Max’s eyes as he watched his brother pull
that girl
behind him. Once again, I wasn’t his priority. Instead of trying to make me feel better, he was focused on her ass. The fact that he’s lusting after a girl his brother is sleeping with is gross. Will he ever see me as anything other than the awkward fourteen-year-old with braces I was when we met?

I’m saved from having to reply by the arrival of my friend Peyton and her boyfriend, Wyatt. They met this time last year when I moved into her dorm room, and even though we all thought she hated him, and all of us, they ended up together. Wyatt’s a sweet guy and he deserves a girl who will stand by him. Peyton’s that girl, even though none of us thought she would be. She came off as cold and incapable of feelings when I first met her, and I thought I would be miserable spending an entire semester rooming with her. Luckily, the attitude was just a wall to keep people out. A wall Wyatt quickly knocked down. She’s now one of my best friends, and they live together off-campus. She slips into the empty seat beside me; her fingers entwined with Wyatt’s as she studies my face.

“Is everything okay?” she asks gently. When I only shrug, she cocks her blond head to one side and locks eyes with mine. “What’d I miss?”

I wave off her concern, not wanting to talk about Clay and his asshole-ness any more. I don’t quite achieve the breeziness I’m going for when I tell her, “Nothing, just Clay being himself.”

“Ah,” she says knowingly. “I should have known. Ignore the asshat. We’re here to have fun before classes start back up.” Twisting her slim body, she says something to Wyatt too low for me to hear. He smiles down at her before nodding. Peyton touches her mouth to his briefly before standing. She grabs my hand, pulling me out of my seat, and leads me onto the dance floor.

Between the crush of bodies around us, the club mixes of popular songs, and the way the bass line resonates in my chest, I can’t think. It’s a good thing though, and I’m instantly glad Peyton dragged me out here. We move our hips to the music, laughing and twirling around, ignoring all the people crowding us. There should be a limit to how many people can be on a dance floor at one time.

In just a few minutes, I’m concentrating only on my movements and the lyrics to the songs the DJ is playing, not the comments made by a jerk.

My hands travel up my body to the back of my neck, where I run my fingers through hair I spent more time on than I’d like to admit, shaking it out and moving it away from where the long strands are sticking to my skin before I raise both arms in the air. I’m dancing beside my best friend and just enjoying what will probably be my last night out before classes start Monday.

Strange hands grip my hips as the next song begins. A body moves against my back, moving me with it, and rocking our bodies together. Wyatt comes up behind Peyton, bringing his arms around her and lowering his mouth to her shoulder as she drops her head back to rest on his. She turns her head to the side, giving him better access to her skin and I feel like a voyeur. I don’t know why I’m watching, but I can’t take my eyes off of them.

Then, a mouth touches my skin, and my eyes widen. I don’t even know who’s behind me, and I was so enthralled by the two people dancing in front of me that I zoned out. It’s not a smart thing to do. Grabbing the stranger’s arms, I attempt to push away from him, but his hands tighten on my hips, and he pulls me closer so my entire body is flush with his. Feeling the length of him against the small of my back, I struggle harder. Turning my head, I see a flash of green eyes and sandy blond hair. The face is unfamiliar, and his grin isn’t the least bit friendly. It’s predatory. A shiver runs down my spine. We’re touching everywhere. My discomfort is noticeable, and his grin widens. He moves his face closer to mine, his intention clear, and I freeze. He’s holding me so tightly I’m sure I’ll have bruises tomorrow. The last thing I want is his tongue in my mouth.

I’m just beginning to panic when rough hands jerk me out of his embrace, and the familiar scent of Clay’s cologne hits my nose. Then a hard body steps between me and Mr. Way-Too-Touchy. All I can see are Clay’s broad shoulders. The music and voices of the people around us are too loud for me to make out what he’s saying, but his body is taut. Clay’s muscles ripple beneath his black t-shirt as he pushes Mr. WTT further away from me. I stare at them, entranced, when a hand grips my shoulder and pulls me out of the way. Clay stumbles into the spot where I had just been standing. I look up to see Wyatt watching the two guys push up into each other’s faces, WTT with a red, angry face and Clay vibrating with a familiar pissed off energy.

My eyes beg Wyatt to stop this, but he ignores me, placing one hand on the small of Peyton’s back and gesturing for me to walk farther away from the altercation on the dance floor. We don’t get very far before Clay’s fist hits the side of WTT’s face, snapping it to the side and causing spit and blood to fly out of his mouth. He makes a taunting gesture, his hands pointing to himself, practically begging the handsy guy to take a swing back. The guy does, but Clay is faster, his head snapping back. The guy misses. I’m mesmerized by the show, watching them beat on each other while Clay … what? Protects my honor? I’m not sure, but it’s hot as hell.

Wait. What the hell?
Shut up, Kat!
It’s
not
hot. It’s
Neanderthal
. I back away slowly as they continue to beat on each other, my heart racing and my hands clammy. We make it back to the table, and I’m even more surprised to see that no one is paying attention to what’s happening on the dance floor.

Max and Liam talk animatedly while Livvie and Emmett have their heads close together, both their faces somber. Two of the other guys suck face with random girls completely oblivious to the brawl, while another is tapping away on his phone. I want to scream at them, to point out that Clay is kicking some guy’s ass while they are engrossed in their dull little worlds.

Before I can say anything, or get anyone’s attention, Clay storms up beside me, and I face forward, reluctant to look up at him. Grabbing me by the arm, he jerks me around so we’re face-to-face. He towers over me, his chest heaving, sweat rolling down the side of his face as he gets closer to mine. His eyes are so dark they’re almost black, and he’s
pissed
. “What the fuck were you doing out there, Kat?” My name sounds like a curse word on his lips, and all I can do is gape at him. He seems to get angrier when I don’t reply. Gripping both my arms, he gives me a little shake like he’s trying to get my attention; not realizing I can’t look away from him.

“W-w-w-what?” I stutter, unsure what he’s asking.

His next words are a growl. “You fucking
froze
. Do you know what happens to little girls that freeze up when some asshole puts their hands on them?”
Wait
…
What?
He’s mad … at
me
? I don’t understand. I didn’t do anything wrong. I know I didn’t. Did I?

Wyatt says something in a low voice, trying to calm Clay down, but Clay’s eyes never leave mine. We stare into each other’s eyes, not even blinking. Suddenly he jerks away from me, turning in the opposite direction, and gripping his hair with his hands.

He takes deep breaths, visibly trying to calm himself down before he faces me again. When he turns back to me, his expression is no less volatile than it had been before, but his chest is no longer heaving. I brace myself, thinking he’s going to yell at me some more, tell me what an idiot I am, but he doesn’t speak. After glaring at me for several beats, he finally shakes his head and stalks off, leaving me to stare in shock at his back as he walks away.

He doesn’t even slow down when he reaches Meghan, who’s standing at the end of the dance floor, biting her lip, and watching him warily. He takes her hand, dragging
her
behind him until they’re swallowed by the crowd.

Meanwhile, Max finally notices something is going on and comes to stand next to me. His leaner body is nothing like his brother’s and his musky cologne is almost overpowering next to the clean scent of Clay’s. “What the hell happened? Clay looks like he just left fight club or something.”

I shake my head in disbelief and confusion. “I have no idea.” I don’t understand what just happened at all. One second he’s yelling at me, and the next he just leaves?

Clay

Two days after the night at the club and the trouble Kat caused, I still feel hung over. Even the almost freezing weather and the fact that it’s three in the afternoon doesn’t help. It’s thirty degrees colder today than it was yesterday, so you’d think I’d be wide-the-fuck awake. Of course, it didn’t help that my 8:30 class was International Accounting. It’s not the type I’ll be able to sleep through and fake it, that’s for sure.

Now, if I could have History of Rock first thing, I wouldn’t have any trouble staying awake. But am I that lucky? Nope. Instead, it’s the last one of the day. Oh well, at least I’ll end it happy. When I finally stroll in the room is filling up. Not a surprise since the majority of my classes are in the business building and this one is across campus in one of two arts buildings. I find a spot near the back and sit down. Some teachers still believe in assigned seats, and if I’m running late, I don’t want to have to head to the front to find my seat. I like attention, but not that kind.