CHAPTER FIVE #2
She leans against the railing, the party lights flashing in strobes around her while people filter in and out of the front door and down the hall toward the bathroom.
It looks like your typical college house party. Way too many intoxicated people, drinking and playing party games while music blares through the speakers.
I let my gaze drag down her figure, slow enough to make a point. “You that desperate for me to compliment you?”
Her brows lift, and she shrugs, taking a sip of whatever’s in her cup. “Figured you’d stick to the script.”
“Not really a script kind of guy,” I say, leaning against the wall beside her.
Lina hums like she doesn’t buy it. “Could’ve fooled me.”
I look down at her, at the way she doesn’t fidget under my stare. Instead of preening, Lina sips her drink again like I’m not worth the effort. It’s as if she’s trying to annoy me, and it’s working.
“Listen, I didn’t mean what I said in the elevator. I hope you know that.” It’s probably not the most sincere way I could say it. It’s more awkward, but it’s an attempt.
“I do,” she says. “I’m aware that it was meant to be a compliment, and my response was a bit harsh, but it doesn’t change the fact that you thought I would be flattered by some hotshot guy paying attention to me—saying I was prettier than I could ever be intelligent.”
I’m getting the sense there’s more to her annoyance than just the elevator comment.
It’s a skill I picked up growing up with two older sisters.
I’ve always had to read between the lines, knowing when their frustration with me was purely because of my wrongdoings or if it was heightened because they were also reacting to whatever else was on their mind.
Because of that training, I know the best thing for this situation is to tread lightly in a calm middle ground. “Listen, I know I don’t have the best track record?—”
“So I’ve gathered.”
Her quick response piques my curiosity. “You have?”
“I’ve heard some… questionable things about you,” she says, her honesty startling me.
I let out a low chuckle, leaning back slightly. “Really? And what would those be?”
“Let's see…” Lina tilts back, and when she realizes she’s resting against my calf, she quickly straightens up again. “I believe the exact words were that you’re an emotionally constipated douchebag with mommy issues .”
My breath catches for a moment, wondering who the hell would have told her that, but then I remember that she showed up here alongside Braxton’s ex-girlfriend—or whatever the hell she is to him.
“Meredith’s an asshole for telling you that.”
I know that girl’s been through some shit from the minimal information Braxton has told me, but that doesn’t give her the right to go spilling other people’s private information.
“Yeah, well, she made you out to be an even bigger one, so can you really blame her?”
With that, I do something I’m sure makes the eyes of everyone around us bulge, because I’m not this guy. I’m not the one girls run toward if they want someone to swoop them off their feet or put in the effort to woo them.
But it sure feels like a form of begging when I sit down on the step next to her, desperate to change the subject. “So, did you watch the game?”
“Yeah. I was there. Didn’t realize you rode the bench, Vandenberg.”
“Considering you know my last name, I’d say you’re full of shit.” My eyes bore into hers.
Lina doesn’t miss a beat. Holding her Solo Cup up to her lips, she keeps her eyes glued on mine. “I don’t care what you say about me. I never asked you to sit here and talk to me, and from the way every other girl here is glaring at me, I’d say they don’t appreciate it much either.”
My jaw ticks, just barely. “You could’ve stayed home. Saved yourself the trouble.”
“And miss you leering at me again?”
I smirk, lazy and unapologetic. “Leering? Big word.”
“I do go to Yale,” she reminds me. “You want me to say ‘staring like a creep’ instead?”
“I wasn’t staring,” I say, even though I absolutely was.
She huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, okay.”
The first thing I noticed about Lina may have been how gorgeous she was—with her hazel eyes, high cheekbones, and honey brown hair—but it’s obvious now that the thing that’s kept me thinking about her is the way she talks.
Her sharp tongue, the way she throws me off my game by refusing to show me any of the normal attention I get, and how she says whatever the hell she’s thinking without a second thought. That’s what keeps her lodged in my brain.
I might be an asshole, but she’s the only one who’s ever challenged me on it. And for some fucked-up reason, it keeps her circling my head.
It must be why when she goes to get up, I immediately reach out to clasp her wrist, the cool metal of her bracelet pressing against my palm. “You must not hate me staring at you that much, considering you still showed up,” I point out, raising a brow at her.
She looks down at my hand, then up at me. “Yeah. And now I’m wondering why.”
I drop her wrist. “So leave.” It’s a challenge within itself, one I’m hoping she sees through.
“Braxton invited me here, not you.” She steps back. “Everybody else on this campus might bow down at your feet, but I won’t. There might be a dozen girls at this party chomping at the bit for a chance in bed with you, but I won’t be one of them.”
She whirls around, her long hair following the movement and falling down her back.
And I can’t help myself from saying, “We’ll see about that, pretty girl.”
Lina doesn’t say anything in return. She keeps walking.
Braxton whistles under his breath as he approaches me. “Goddamn, man, you’re really in deep, aren’t you?”
I don’t answer. I stare at the empty space she left behind, already kicking myself for opening my mouth at all.
This is why I don’t do this.