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“I mean, if he did some shady shit, I guess.”
“You walk in on him jerking off in one of your socks,” Tatum offers.
“He leaves all his dirty underwear on your side of the room,” Simone says. “All these little things that seem annoying at first build up.”
I frown. “I’d talk to him first.”
The girls share a look and shrug before laughing. They start talking about their majors and a crooked smile curves my mouth while listening to Tatum’s enthusiasm for the courses she picked for the fall semester. Someone who overhears joins us and they hit it off when they find out they’ll have a class together. Her earlier nerves have faded away and she’s relaxed with the party atmosphere.
“I’m going to grab another drink. You want anything?”
Tatum pauses her conversation with the girl who joined us and shakes her head, shooting me another bright smile. “I’m good. I’ll be here.”
“Okay. I’ll be back.”
Simone watches me for a moment as I amble through the party, glancing back to watch Tatum. I duck my head when I catch her gaze tracking me. The last thing I need is for her to suspect anything. It’ll be hard enough to keep Jackson in the dark without adding Tate’s friend to the mix.
I’m able to watch without being caught while I get a fresh drink. My attention lingers on Tatum and I can’t help checking her out again. The girls have formed their own dance party separate from everyone else, and I’m hooked on every dip and sway of Tatum’s body.
She’s too damn tempting. I still can’t believe she hasn’t had guys all over her. She’s definitely caught the eye of several tonight, but she hasn’t noticed.
I have though.
And when I see another one inching his way closer to shoot his shot, I start walking.
“Yo.”
Jackson’s greeting almost makes me choke when I’ve nearly reached the girls. Clearing my throat, I nod to him. “‘Sup bro?”
He glances from me to the girls his sister is dancing with. “Which one are you looking at? Not Simone?”
The sharp addition has me lifting my brows and staring into my plastic cup. I’m not touching that one. But I need to cover, because I can’t tell him who I was actually watching.
“Nah. Not my type.”
“Bullshit.” He laughs and slaps me on the back. “Every girl is your type if they mean you get your dick wet.”
I hide a grimace and jerk my chin at the girl Tatum and Simone made friends with. “The chick with the rack in the pink shirt.”
“Nice,” Jackson says appreciatively.
I didn’t realize how close we were, but Tatum freezes, whipping her head in our direction. A look of hurt flashes for the briefest second over her features before she shuts it down.
Shit. I didn’t mean for her to overhear that.
If she was my girlfriend, my balls would be toast. But that’s the thing. Tatum isn’t my girlfriend. The kind of relationship and connection I want won’t ever be in the cards for us.
I don’t have to linger on the crappy guilt for long. A shout behind us steals everyone’s attention.
ELEVEN
TATUM
“Beer pong tourney! Let’s go, bitches!” The guy running through the party shouts at the top of his lungs before crashing into my brother and Cooper, almost knocking them both over.
“Harris, dude.” Jackson laughs.
“You’re wasted,” Cooper says in an amused tone.
