It’s easy to find a parking spot since most of the attendees walked from campus.
I head up the sidewalk, pausing in front of the walkway up to the first house.
I’m halfway inside before I even consider what I’m wearing. Dark jeans and a black T-shirt are a step below the polo and chinos, but I don’t care.
I’ve got one goal.
Find her.
I get some weird looks, plus some inviting ones as I move through the house.
“Nice tattoo,” a girl wearing a headband for a shirt murmurs, draping her hand over my shoulder.
“Thanks.” I glance at the dog on my arm as I tug away.
There must be a hundred people on the main floor, and I check all of them until I see a familiar face.
The woman was at the club the same night as Liv and Kat.
Jen.
Jamie…
“Jules,” I say.
Her eyes narrow. “Do I know you?”
“Daniel. Sawyer’s friend. We met at Velvet. I’m looking for Kat.”
Understanding dawns. She smiles, a beat slow. “I saw her in the kitchen, I think. Or maybe upstairs?”
The image of her in some dark corner pressed against a preppy shit with wandering hands makes my lip curl.
I check the kitchen. No Kat.
She’s not here. Either she left or she’s upstairs.
If she’s with a guy…the one from the door earlier or someone else…
She was dressed like sin, and any man in his right mind would see how gorgeous she is.
If some prick took advantage of her, I will lose my mind.
I take the stairs two at a time, shoving past students.
At the top, I look both ways down the wide hall.
This is insane.
You’re at a fraternity party searching for a student who never asked for your help.
One who only hours ago looked as if she’d rather eat nails than accept it.
I’m about to go back downstairs when Kat steps out of a doorway, her fox ears tilted sideways and her lipstick smudged.
“Kat.”
Her gaze snaps up to mine. “Daniel?!”
I’m at her side in a second.
I push angrily on the door, ready to unleash my fury on whoever left her looking flushed and rumpled.
It’s a bathroom. Not a bedroom.
More students are pouring up the stairs. I don’t want to be spotted like this, so I drag her inside and shut the door.
Instantly the loud music is quieter.
But before I can speak, the door opens from the outside.
“This one’s full.” I shove it closed and lock it.
Her gaze drops to my forearm, tracing the lines of the tattoo.
“What are you doing here?” she asks.
“Fixing the mailbox.”
Her eyebrows lift. Even alcohol can’t obscure her sense of humor.
“My feet hurt. Can you fix that?”
I look down at her dangerously high heeled footwear.
“Not unless you expect me to carry you around the rest of the night.”
Her head tilts, eyes dancing. “If you’re offering.”
The only thing more dangerous than Kat is a drunk Kat looking like this when my control is already fraying.
She grabs my biceps for balance as she shifts up to sit on the vanity, her yellow nails somehow missing my skin. “How did you find me?”
“You were going to campus wearing these.” I adjust the fox ears on her head. “Figured it was Greek Row or Young Environmentalists.”
Kat wiggles, her skirt inching dangerously higher. “You’re smart.”
I can’t help smiling as I plant my hands on either side of her hips. “Thank you.”
Clearly, I’m not, though. I keep talking.
“You wore those boots the night I met you.”
“You remember?”
“Mhmm.”
She chews her lip. “You shot me down, and it messed with me.”
“Because you’ve only ever had men follow you around like puppies?” I’m only half joking.
“No, because I thought we had something. But apparently you weren’t attracted to me.”
Don’t.
Earth to Daniel. Bad fucking idea.
“That’s not why.”
“It isn’t?”
She looks up at me as if I can make her whole world brighter in an instant.
My throat is tight. So is everything else. “No. You’re beautiful. And confident, and persistent. You’re also a student,” I go on at her pleased smile. “I wasn’t looking for a hookup. It would’ve been a bad idea.”
There’s a soap behind her the color of strawberries, but it’s her scent that fills my nose.
“Now, I work for you. It’s an even worse idea.”
“Yes, it is.”
So why are her legs twining between mine?
“I’m not dating anyone.” She says it like a gift, and damn if it doesn’t feel that way.
“Good.”
There’s too much relief. As if I’ve been hoping to hear exactly that, because it means I haven’t been thinking fucked-up things about a girl who’s not only off-limits but seeing someone else.
“Why do you care?” she murmurs, tugging on a strand of wild hair.
“I don’t. You can date who you like.”
The words feel like broken glass in my mouth.
“No, I mean why do you care about me? The only thing people outside that door are worried about is their next drink, or a test, or who they’re going home with.”
The dark shadow of frustration, from tonight and from me shoving down my feelings since she moved into my house, creeps up on me.
“That’s what you wanted. To get drunk and go home with some guy whose name you barely know?”
Her lips part, her breath trembling out. Her eyes focus intently, disputing my assessment that she’s drunk.
“What’s so bad about that?”
“They don’t deserve it.” They don’t deserve to hear her dry jokes. Not to touch her, to have her touch them.
Her lashes are thick spikes, soft and dark with mascara. Beneath, her pupils are blown.
She’s strong and soft, sexy and sweet.
I want it all.
Want to grab it and claim it as mine. To fall off this cliff in a thrilling ride that will be worth the rough landing.
Her touch finds my arm again, tracing the faded lines of the tattoo. I exhale heavily, my need painfully obvious.
“I owe you another tattoo,” she murmurs. “Where should I put it?”
A moment ago, I was the one in control, but it’s slipping away.
Our breath mingles and it’s so charged. I can’t remember wanting anything this much, not my first kiss or my first time or anything.
“Anywhere you want,” I grind out.
Kat leans closer.
I can’t.
Not now.
Not with her.
Everything will change, a voice warns.
Everything changes anyway.
The harder we fight it, the more inevitable it becomes.
Her lips whisper across mine.
Every nerve in me lights up, like I’ve been waiting for this my whole damn life.
It’s so long since I’ve kissed someone if I was less amped I might worry I’d forgotten how.
But I’m on a sharp edge of need and frustration and all I care about is tasting her.