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Raleigh and I wandereddown the path toward the Kingsman house. At least, I thought it was the path to the frat house, but I wasn’t entirely sure anymore. Especially when a fork presented itself I didn’t recognise.
“Left,” Raleigh said definitively, swinging the apple tequila bottle in a huge arc and dragging me right.
“Uh, if you say so?” I cocked my head to one side but couldn’t work out which way the pounding music was coming from that seemed to be getting softer. “Are you sure we’re headed toward the party?”
“Yes?” she asked, passing me the bottle and fishing out her phone. She took a picture of the path, and the light post, and sent them off.
A moment later her phone dinged with a reply.
“Nate will be here in...twelve minutes?” she said doubtfully.
“Twenty-one.” I closed one eye but the doubling effect on her phone didn’t change a bit.
“Jesus, you two,” Nate puffed, wrapping his arms around us.
“You said you’d be twelve minutes,” Raleigh pouted.
“Twenty-one.” I offered Nate a broad grin.
He shook his head, exasperation edging into his smile. “It’s been twenty minutes. You two arewayoff course. Come on.” He shook his head, and a half laugh escaped him.
“Mine.” Raleigh pounced on him, snuggling in an x-rated PDA, all hands and horniness and making me damn lonely.
I hung back, letting them wander on, giggling and groping and kissing while my arms wound tighter around my middle. Wearing jeans and a white tank, like Raleigh did, suddenly seemed like a good idea, as the night turned cold, dew frisking beneath my heels and flowy midnight blue minidress.
Yes, I picked it because of his eyes. Yes, I’m pathetic.
All the things I said to myself while I ignored the path and wandered further onto the grass, finding myself beneath an old oak near the courtyard.
“And you’re alone out here because..?” Beau stepped into the shadows with me.
I screamed my lungs out. “What the actual fuck is wrong with you?” I slapped his bicep with each word and a few after for emphasis until my palm hurt. “Ow. Why aren't you owing?” I peered at him.
A sexy as sin smile curled his lips. “Because I’ve drunk enough whiskey that nothing hurts right now, Sylvie. Not even my dead heart.”
I tilted my head looking up at him. And up. “That’s nice. You’re tall.”
He huffed a laugh. “And you’re worse off than me. Steady, girl.” He reached out and caught my elbow.
The lightest touch set off fireworks that no amount of inebriation could dull. “Tell me you felt that,” I demanded, still staring at him all pathetic and starry eyed. I could feel sorry for myself in the morning but for right now I was on perv o’clock.
“I felt it,” he agreed.
So simple. So easy.
And yet here we were, both drunk as skunks, standing in the middle of a deserted campus with no one around, and he was holding my elbow.
I squinted. “I wore a minidress for you,” I informed him.
“And you look fucking stunning, Sylvie.” He still didn’t move. Didn’t let me go, either.
“And you’re holding my elbow.”
“Would you like me to let go?” He raised a most courteous eyebrow.
“Let– no. You’re supposed to be dirty and filthy and all the things I expect you to be,” I whispered, my heartbreak on show.
He took a step closer, brushing my hair back from my temple and grazing his lips there in the tender sort of kiss that drove me crazy, needing more. “Is that what you want from me? Dirty and filthy and...”
