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He ran a hand over his curly hair. “Are you okay?”
James and I grew up in the same hometown. I was a year older, the honorary big sister who helped him with college essays and gave him love advice.
Christina Ramirez? She’s the last person who’d beg to crash on your floor because she’s fucking desperate.
But at our school, girls rarely came to frat parties alone.
“Everything’s fine!” I flashed him a bright smile. “Everything’s great. Sometimes you just want to try something new, you know?”
“I guess…”
I swallowed half my beer. Turning to survey the crowded space, I met a pair of pale blue eyes and sucked in air.
They watched me from across the room like cool water: calm, unruffled, hinting at something deep and dark beneath.
The face that went with those eyes would be handsome, if he were smiling. Decent-looking. Easy on the eyes.
But there was nothing decent or easy about his stare.
“Christina?” James touched my elbow. I blinked at the crisscrossing lights of the party. “You sure you’re okay?”
“You need to get me drink number two and stop asking me that.” I tousled his mop of hair. “Hey,” I added off-handedly,“Who’s that tall guy across the room?”
“Where?”
Patrick wasn’t looking at me anymore. He was talking with a small group. The girls kept surveying their options and coming back to him, the other guys were joking and competing. He was in the conversation, but seemed detached.
I pointed in his direction.
“Oh, that’s Patrick Caruthers.” James refilled my plastic cup at the keg and handed it back. “Why? You interested?”
Nervouswas more like it. Uncomfortable. Turned on. Unable to look away.
“I’m just curious.”
“Senior. Spent his junior year abroad, and he wasn’t around much last semester. He did the bare minimum for his requirements here, but he showed up to events when he needed to.”
“And?” I prodded.
James grinned. “I don’t know him that well, and I don’t know what he’s like with women, but he’s solid. Reliable. Remember that huge fucking snowstorm in December? Right before it started, I was across town and my car died. I called everyone I knew. Patrick was the one who drove out with jumper cables. When it started snowing, I thought I was fucked, but he texted to say he was on his way. He drove through that snow, started my car, and made sure I got home. Most people wouldn’t. If Patrick says he’s going to do something, he does it.”
“That’s great.” I should be breathing easier. Instead, my heart was pounding. “I’m going to go find out about that.”
“Awright.” James slapped me on the back. “Let me know if you need an out.”
I fought across the crowded room, my beer sloshing in its cup. When I stopped at Patrick’s elbow, the other guys and girls melted into the crowd.
He looked down at me, his eyebrows raised. Jesus, he towered over me. His shoulders and arms were about to split his blue button-down. Standing this close to this much muscle did something to my body. I felt dizzy.
I held out my free hand. “I never introduced myself last time. I’m Christina.”
“Patrick.”
His hand engulfed mine. The contact made my stomach flip. I let him guide me past the dance floor, down the hall, and into a deserted game room, where a dart board watched over an empty pool table.
The door stood open. People passed by constantly in the hall, crowding and laughing, but no one paid attention to us.
I freed my fingers, shrugging off my coat. Patrick took it and dropped it on the table.
