Chapter Two Sienna
Chapter Two
Sienna
Oh no. I am very, very ...
Drunk.
I can’t stop laughing. Everything that comes out of Gavin’s mouth is funny to me, and since he won’t stop talking—which is very unlike him—I can’t stop giggling. I love rum. And Coke. Not the kind you snort, the kind you drink. Rum and Coke together?
Ten out of ten. Strong recommend.
Little Miss Cute Server reappears at our table yet again because Gavin basically told her about four—maybe five—rum and Cokes ago that she should keep them coming. But he silences my laughter when he makes that gesture at her like he’s slicing his throat with his fingers.
“We’re cutting her off.” He points his thumb in my direction.
“Nooooo.” I lean against him because all my inhibitions have abandoned me. I am a drunken fool who wants more, more, more. “I’m so thirsty.”
“Bring her a water,” Gavin advises the server.
“Will do.” She takes off before I can stop her, and my disappointment runs far and deep.
“You’re no fun.” I let go of him and slump against the seat, crossing my arms. I’m pouting like I’m three, but I don’t care.
“You’d end up crying over a toilet and puking if you keep going. You might already be at that point.” He shakes his head, rubbing his jaw with his fingers. I stare at those fingers, mesmerized by the sight of them. They’re long and magical. I bet he knows what to do with them, and I’m not talking about throwing a football either.
“I’m fine.” I wave my hand and nearly topple over onto the seat. Gavin grabs me at the last second to keep me from falling, and I start laughing all over again. “Or maybe not.”
“Definitely not.” He helps me sit upright, and I beam at him.
“Thank you.” I’m getting lost in his eyes again. They’re beautiful swirls of varying shades of blue, and I don’t ever want to look away. It’s like I can’t.
“You’re welcome.” He’s still slouched in the booth seat, his big body sprawled in all directions. His arms are stretched out along either side of the back of the seat, and his legs are spread wide. Most women would call this manspreading and complain about it, but I love how much space he takes up. It’s hot.
He’s hot.
I’m hot too.
In fact, I’m sweating.
Over him.
“Why are you hanging out with me?” The words fall off my tongue as if I have no control, and I realize that is a correct assumption about me. I have zero control. I’m drunk, and I guess alcohol makes me bold.
He frowns. “Why wouldn’t I hang out with you?”
“There are all sorts of girls out there.” I waggle my fingers at the crowd, indicating all the females currently watching us—him—with hunger and longing in their eyes. “Yet you sit here with me.”
Gavin watches me for a moment, and I wonder if he’s having to ask himself why exactly he is with me. When he could be doing anything else. Anyone else.
Ouch. The thought of that hurts my brain. Gavin with another woman. I shove the vision out of my head as fast as I can.
“Because I like you,” he eventually says, and oh, my heart.
It’s currently racing. Galloping. Ready to escape from my chest and run straight out of this bar with those words.
“And I need to keep an eye on you. For Coop,” he adds.
I deflate like a balloon, my heart reinserting itself into my chest, where it belongs.
“He’s not even here,” I mumble, hanging my head in defeat.
“Even more reason to keep watch. Especially after what Sam did.” He sounds pissed, but not in my honor. More like he just knows Sam the bartender is, as he put it, a slimeball.
I am pathetic. Pitiful. This man is only here because he feels obligated to keep watch over me and not because he’s infatuated with my beauty and charming personality.
Not that I’m a great beauty, nor am I particularly charming. I get why he’s not into me. I’m not that attractive. Not in the traditional sense. I’m too tall and too pale, and I’m a redhead, which only a small percentage of men seem to be drawn to. I have boring brown eyes and freckles everywhere that get worse during the summer until it seems like they cover every inch of my exposed skin. And I’m a little too loud sometimes.
Okay, most of the time.
I had to be the loud one growing up because my brother is so damn quiet. Someone had to talk for the both of us, and it sure wasn’t ever going to be Coop.
“Here you go!” Our adorable server is standing in front of the table, placing a giant glass of ice water in front of me. “Drink up, sweetie. Maybe take a Liquid I.V. when you get home, or else you’re going to be feeling it tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Vanessa.” Gavin smiles at her, and it’s the first time I’ve realized he knows her name.
“Anytime, Gav.” Her eyes flash when they meet his as she hands him a glass of water, too, and I note the way her fingers brush his. How they almost tangle for a moment before she pulls away.
Oh God. I think ...
I think he’s fucked her.
The moment she’s gone I’m chugging the water, then slamming the glass onto the table so hard, I worry it might smash into a bazillion pieces. Luckily for me, it stays intact.
Unlike my ego. My feelings. My head. Those all feel smashed to bits.
“I need to go,” I announce, scooting in the opposite direction of the rounded booth so I can escape out the other side. “Thanks for babysitting me, Gavin.”
I’m fast. I used to be in track during high school, and I can run a one-hundred-yard dash like no other, but this guy, Mr. Football himself, is on me in seconds. His fingers curling around my upper arm and holding me back before I can make my escape.
“What the hell, Sienna? Where are you going?”
I glance over my shoulder and pretend for a moment that he actually cares. That he doesn’t want me to leave. That he sees me not as Coop’s baby sister but as a beautiful, confident—if a little drunk—woman.
But all I detect is brotherly concern in his gaze. His grip doesn’t feel possessive or intimate. He’s just trying to stop me from leaving in case I’m going to hop into a car and drive drunk or whatever.
Not that anyone drives much in this town. My dorm building is literally five blocks away, max. I can walk home easily.
“I’m leaving,” I tell him, lifting my chin, trying to look strong.
But then my feet seem to be on top of each other, and I stumble. Right into him.
He catches me, cradling me in his arms, and I find myself staring at his face. Into his eyes. God, he’s handsome. Too handsome. It’s too much. He’s too much.
“I’ll walk you home,” he murmurs, and I swear I see amusement on his face. In his eyes. Like I’m a joke to him.
“No.” I shake my head and try to disentangle myself from his grip, but he won’t budge. The guy is just way too strong. “It’s not a long walk. I’ll find Destiny.”
He frowns. “Who?”
“My roommate.” I don’t expect him to remember every little detail about me, but I wish he did.
“Where is she?” He looks around the front of the crowded bar, frowning.
“I don’t know.” A hiccup escapes me, and I cover my mouth, embarrassed. “I gotta go.”
Somehow, I extract myself from his hold and turn on wobbly feet, heading for the door. I push my way through the crowd, ignoring the way Gavin calls my name. It means nothing. He’s not interested, and the thought of how I basically draped myself all over him tonight is humiliating.
When I finally make it outside, I tip my head back and inhale the cool, salty air. Going to UCSM has its perks, the biggest one being that we get to live by the ocean. Which makes me think of the song “Cake by the Ocean” and how it’s about going down on a girl, and all my hopes and dreams of anything remotely like that happening with Gavin are dashed completely.
“Sienna.” Gavin’s deep voice is full of relief, and I whirl around to find him striding toward me. “I’m walking you home.”
“I don’t need you to escort me. I’ve got this.” I try to give him a thumbs-up, but it ends up being my middle finger instead.
My true feelings coming out? Most definitely.
He actually laughs, the jackass. “I think you do need my help. Come on. Which building are you in?”
“Rosewood,” I mumble, dropping my arm by my side. Wishing I could give him the finger again. “It’s right down the street.”
“I know exactly where it is,” he says with confidence.
“Snuck into a few of the dorm rooms, hmm?” I raise my brows.
Gavin frowns. “Sorry?”
“Hooked up with girls in the freshman dorms last year? Right, Gav?”
I never call him Gav. I sort of hate that nickname. But our cheeky little server called him that, and I just know— I Know —they’ve done it.
“Come on, Sienna.” He loops his arm through mine and steers me down the sidewalk, heading in the direction of our campus and my dorm hall. “You need to go to bed.”
The word bed sparks hope in my heart, which is the dumbest thing ever. “Are you going to tuck me in, Gav? Is that how you get into girls’ dorm rooms? With promises of helping us go night-night?”
“Are you okay?” He sounds genuinely concerned, and I hate it. I don’t want his concern. I want lust and longing and illicit touches. Desire and kissing and hot sex. Yess, sex.
Sex with Gavin would be amazing, I just know it.
For the rest of the walk, I don’t speak. I never answered his question because I don’t think it’s necessary. He can figure out that I’m not okay just by my remaining silent, which is something I rarely do.
By the time we’re in front of my dorm building, I don’t want him touching me anymore. Guiding me anymore. I’ve got this.
“I can manage to get to my room on my own.” I pull my arm from around his. “Thanks for walking with me. I appreciate your concern.”
Gavin doesn’t even catch the sarcasm in my tone.
“I’m taking you to your room.” His voice is firm. He’s not going to let me get out of this, and I accept defeat, again remaining quiet as he walks with me toward my dorm hall entrance. “I want to make sure you get in safely.”
“Okay, Dad.” I roll my eyes and grab my key card, waving it in front of the black pad so the doors unlock. We’re inside in seconds, Gavin looking around the lobby with curiosity.
“What floor are you on?” he asks.
“Four.”
We take the elevator up, me standing on the complete opposite side from Gavin because I’m sick of being close to him. I can still smell him, though. Look at him. Note the way he’s checking his phone and tapping out a response to someone. I’m dying to know who it might be.
Not that I have any right to ask him. And he probably won’t tell me either. It’s none of my business.
The elevator doors slide open, and I dart out, turning right and heading down the hallway of endless doors. Coming to a stop when I realize my room is on the left side.
I’m an idiot.
“Wrong way,” I mumble as I push past him, and he chuckles, like I’m just so amusing in my drunken state.
He follows after me but keeps his distance like he knows that’s what I want. I stop in front of my door and pull the key out of my pocket, unlocking the door quickly before I open it and turn on the overhead light. “Okay, thanks, Gavin. I appreciate your help.”
I’m about to shut the door in his face like a total bitch when he slaps his hand against it, forcing me to keep it open. “You alone in there?”
I frown, glancing over my shoulder to find I am, indeed, alone in here. Good. I can cry by myself, and Destiny won’t be a witness to my drunk sadness. “I am.”
Without a word he pushes his way inside my room, filling the tiny space with his dominating presence immediately. I shut the door and lean against it, watching as he stands in the middle of the room between the two single beds, his head turning left, then right, checking everything out.
“Looks like your standard dorm room,” he observes. “Though your side is cuter than your roommate’s.”
Pleasure suffuses me at his compliment. “Thank you. My mom helped me set it up.”
“How is she?” His gaze meets mine, and I can see the fondness there.
Everyone loves my mother. She’s the quintessential football mom, meaning she’s always volunteering to help out the team. Bring them snacks and water and meals. Was team mom all through the younger grades and on the board in various positions, including president of the booster club, the entirety of Coop’s high school–football life. She shows up at every game with Dad, whether it’s at home or away, and she cheers for everyone, not just her son.
All that love for Coop can sometimes feel like I get the leftovers, but I try not to let it bother me. I get it. Coop is the more successful sibling, while I’m just ... me.
“She’s good,” I tell him, resting my hands on my hips. Desperate to ignore the way my head is spinning. I’m in full control of my body and thoughts. A little alcohol won’t push me over the edge.
But then like a fool I trip over my own foot—how, I’m not sure—and I can feel myself tipping over. A little shriek escapes me, and next thing I know, Gavin is lunging toward me and we’re tangled up together on top of my bed.
My stupid little twin bed that we definitely can’t fit on side by side, but that doesn’t seem to matter because currently I’m sprawled on top of him and he’s beneath me. He’s a hot, solid wall of muscle, his arms banded around me, those big hands and long fingers splayed across my back, and I lift my head, staring into his beautiful eyes, our mouths perfectly aligned.
“Sorry,” I murmur, but he doesn’t say anything. His gaze roves all over my face, those blue eyes darkening until they’re as turbulent as a winter storm. I stare back, mute. Unable to breathe.
He lifts his head. Angles it. His lips brush over mine, and I close my eyes, shock coursing through my veins. Gavin Maddox is kissing me.
Say what?