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They'd been living on the same floor since their freshman year but had yet to develop anything resembling a friendship. Not for lack of trying. At least, not on Katie's part.
Since Katie became their floor's resident assistant sophomore year, she'd gone out of her way to get Stephanie to come to floor parties, picnics, anything. It seemed a shame a smart, gorgeous girl like her sat alone in her room so often. And it had only gotten worse since breaking up with her boyfriend. Which was why it hadn't bothered Katie in the least when Stephanie woke her up at two in the morning asking to go out. And though this was what she'd wanted for Stephanie, Katie needed to warn her tonight would be nothing like their floor parties.
The dorms had strict rules. They broke them from time to time but not if there had been any chance of getting caught. Frats had rules of their own, sure, but they were far more cavalier and carefree in their willingness to follow them.
"It will be bedlam in there," Katie told Stephanie giving her arm a firm, reassuring squeeze.
"I'll be fine.”
"As much as you hate social events, I just wanted you to be prepared. And let you know, I'll stick to your side like glue the whole night. You don't—"
"Please, don't." Panic shook Stephanie's plea. "The last thing I want is to look like a pathetic child who needs her mommy. You do what you do. I'll figure it out on my own."
"You're sure about that?"
Katie already knew the answer. Stephanie preferred to do everything on her own, whenever possible. But it didn't hurt to give her the out. Just in case.
"Last I checked," Stephanie said, "this is real life, not a movie. How bad can it be?"
???
Bad, Katie thought stepping through the door grabbing Stephanie's arm and pulling her back before a guy streaking past them, butt-ass naked on a skateboard mowed her over.
"You still sure about being left alone?" Katie asked close to Stephanie's ear to be heard over the thumping beat of house music blaring from the dual PA speakers in the living room.
"Less so, but yeah," Stephanie yelled back.
"Amber should be here soon if she's not already. If you need anything we'll—"
"I know. But I'm fine, really. Thank you." Stephanie pecked an unexpected kiss on Katie's cheek. "Now, go. Have fun."
That's exactly what Katie set out to do.
Chapter 3
Over an hour of full-blown party mayhem and only the usual suspects had shown up so far. At least everyone else seemed to be having a good time. All the work Isaac and his brothers had done to empty the house of furniture hadn't been for nothing.
Bodies filled nearly every square inch of space in the living room. Thankfully, he'd been able to cut out his own little corner next to the beer table, in the parlor that mirrored the living room. Unfortunately, a couple of regulars, two eager sophomore girls, had found their way over and invaded it.
In the fifteen minutes or so they’d been standing in front of him, they hadn't stopped talking. As usual, they mostly talked shit about classes but Isaac caught a name here and there he recognized on top of the gossip they spilled about them. Being none of his business, Isaac tuned out.
Looking over the crowd, bored of the same old scene, Isaac wondered if he should have disappeared to his room.
Thenshewalked in.
After whipping her head to follow the trail of some random, naked dude on a skateboard, her blonde waves settled trailing down her back. Flowing over bare shoulders, like silk draped over the back of an elegantly curved Victorian chair. Shoulders perfect for holding up the thin straps of the fitted tank top hugging her tapered waist peeking out above the band of her pleated miniskirt. He'd never seen her before, yet something about her lit a knowing spark in the back of his brain. Nostalgia from a nonexistent memory.
Who are you?
Isaac didn't even bother excusing himself from the pair of chattering sophomores before parting them like the sea on his way to the Promised Land. Even though there was no way of knowing she would be any different from the two girls he’d left behind, his gut knew.
So did his dick. Twitching against his zipper. Leading the way.
Down, boy.
What the hell? He'd gotten good—better than good—he'd developed expert control of himself over the years. Merely seeing someone hadn't been enough to get a rise out of him in a long time.
She's different.
