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“Let’s dance some more!” she shouts over the crowd, and I nod.
I feel like we dance for hours. The alcohol flows warmly through my veins, and I let go, swaying to the music. Fi grabs my hand, twirling me around, and we stumble into a couple too busy grinding on each other to care about the intrusion.
I can feel Lincoln and Trey watching me. I’m hyperaware of them for some reason, and every once in a while, I catch a glimpse of them standing on the outskirts of the party, like a pair of stoic gargoyles.
I finally pull Fiona from the crowd, and we plop onto a bench, panting. “I can’t dance anymore, dude. I’m dead.”
Fiona giggles. “That was a good pun.”
“Bennett.”
I look up as Trey approaches me. I try to give him a stern glare, but fail miserably because he’s too damn beautiful.
Fuck, I’ve already forgiven him.
He glances at Fiona but doesn’t ask her to leave, which I like. “So maybe you were right—I’m normally that one-and-done guy.” He drops his gaze for a minute before raising it back to mine. “But maybe tonight is different.”
“What?” I ask.
He steps closer and skims his fingers along my jaw. “Come back to my place.”
Iclose my eyes at the contact. When I glance sideways at Fiona, she gives me an encouraging nod.
“Okay.” I take his hand, anticipation swimming in my veins, as he leads me back through the graveyard.
TREY
I unlock the door to my dorm suite. “After you, Bennett,” I say, gesturing for her to enter.
She rolls her eyes. “Don’t act like you’re a gentleman now.” She steps into the space but pauses awkwardly in the kitchen, looking around as if she’s suddenly not sure what she’s doing here with me. Honestly, I’m not sure why she’s here either. I don’t normally bring girls back to my bed for round two.
I step forward and take Charlie’s hand, leading her to my room. She looks around with interest. Her wavy hair falls messily around her shoulders and across her forehead as she steps up to my bookcase, examining my collection.
“It’s mostly Manga,” I say.
“I see that.” She pulls out one of the books to look at the cover, then frowns, her green eyes flashing with sadness.
“What?” I ask.
“It’s nothing,” she murmurs, putting the book back.
“Bullshit,” I say, smiling. “I saw that look. Tell me.”
She glances at my collection again and then looks over at me. “My mom used to buy me Manga.”
“And…”
“And she died.”
“Shit, right, I’m sorry.” I internally curse myself for bringing up her dead mom.
Real smooth.
She waves her hand dismissively. “It’s okay. I told her they inspired my writing, so she pretty much bought me my whole collection, but I don’t think she realized they were so deviant,” she says with a small smile.
I laugh. “What are you in to?”
She bites her lip, then gives me a stern look.
