Chapter 14 #2
“I’m taking you home,” I say to Bristol, throwing an arm around her shoulder.
Bristol glances me up and down and then looks at the bare parking lot. “You don’t have a car.”
She’s right, my car is back at home. “We’ll take the bus. That’s how you got here, isn’t it?”
“I hitchhiked.” She grins at me, and I swear she’d better be joking, or I’m about to give her a twenty-minute lecture on safety.
“You did not,” I growl between clenched teeth and escort her toward the bus stop across the street.
“I’m kidding,” she says, and leans against me. My arm instantly falls around her hip, holding her to me, keeping her upright and steady.
Luca chases after me. “Where are you two off to?”
“I’m going to make sure she gets home safely.”
“Do you want me to give you a ride? I can swing back after and pick up the girls.” Luca glances back at the vehicle where everyone is waiting to be let in.
There are too many of us to all fit into his vehicle in one shot. “It’s not a big deal. She lives on campus; it’s like ten minutes from here by bus.”
“Who knows when the next bus comes through here at this hour? I’ll drive you both to campus.”
The girls grumble as they head back inside the restaurant to stay warm. Thankfully, they’re still open for a while longer.
I help Bristol into the front seat while I climb in back.
“Fun night?” Luca asks as he glances at Bristol.
“The Predators lost. So, no. Not fun for me.” She shuffles into the seat, secures her seatbelt, and I give Luca directions to her dorm.
He doesn’t ask how I know where she lives or what building she’s in.
When we finally arrive, I climb out of the car, helping her to her feet.
“I’ll wait for you.”
“Don’t,” I tell him. “I’ll catch the city bus back home.”
“Seriously?” Luca shakes his head. “She’s drunk, Liam.”
I shove my face back into the car, glaring at Luca.
“I’m well aware. She’s also fainted on me too many times over the summer.
I’m not taking a chance that something happens to her or someone takes advantage of her.
I know to be a gentleman.” I slam the door shut, and Bristol is already a few feet ahead of me, walking herself home.
I’m right beside her, strolling up, my arm around her waist while I glance over my shoulder as Luca pulls away.
“You don’t have to walk me home. Wait. How are you going to get home?” she mumbles, her words slur together.
“I’ll figure it out later.”
The answer is the bus, but I don’t need to tell her that right now.
She slips her arm around my waist and pulls me against her chest, cuddling me.
Instantly, my arms envelop her, and I can feel her breath against my racing heart. “It’s cold, we should go inside.”
It’s not that cold for early October, but I’m grateful to keep moving and walk her inside the building.
Bristol could use a glass of water and a bed, to sleep off the alcohol.
“Inside,” she says and smiles up at me. “Okay. Good idea.”
I escort her inside and up to the elevator. I’m constantly at her hip, worried she’ll pass out on me, but she doesn’t faint.
She stays completely upright, except that she stumbles in those heels every so often. I keep her from tripping and falling, my arm practically a natural extension of her body, holding her against me.
I don’t dare admit that it feels good.
The elevator dings as we arrive at her floor and I follow her out, letting her lead the way.
She’s on the same floor but in a different room this time. Apparently, she’s moved dorms since the last time we met.
Good information for me to have.
Bristol fiddles with her keys, struggling to get it into the lock.
“Here, let me,” I say, wrapping my hand around hers as I steady her trembling hand.
The key slides in, turns and she opens the door, showing me her dorm room.
There’s a single twin bed in the room, a desk at the opposite wall.
The walls are plastered in posters and rope lights that are currently on. It gives off a nice mood lighting and a bit of a witchy feel with her crystal ball on the corner and her tarot cards lying next to it.
“No roommate?” I ask.
“Not this year.”
There’s an array of fancy clothes, including that short leather skirt, strewn across her mattress. I wish she’d worn that sexy ensemble tonight, instead of the Predators’ jersey, but Bristol would intentionally wear the one thing that would piss me off—the opposing team’s jersey.
She shoves the clothes to the floor in a heap.
“I never took you to be messy.” I tilt my head, curious what’s going through her mind.
“I couldn’t decide what to wear tonight.” She plops down on the bed and wiggles her feet at me. “I forgot I put these killers on.”
I bend down, helping Bristol out of her heels, placing them on the floor. “You should climb under the covers, get some sleep.”
“Are you going to join me?” Bristol grins and lifts her hips, sliding her leggings down, revealing a glimpse of skin.
I glance away, not because I want to, but because it feels like the right thing to do.
She’s drunk or, at the very least, tipsy.
I am not taking advantage of her.
Even if she throws herself at me.
Even if Bristol begs me to fuck her.
I won’t.
“That’s not a very good idea,” I say and clear my throat, the sound betraying me as it catches and sounds raspy.
Bristol is sexy as hell when she’s only wearing a jersey.
Too bad it’s not my jersey.
“Why do you have to wear that monstrosity?” I grumble, glaring at the Predators written across her chest.
“You don’t like it?” Bristol points at her chest. “Maybe you like what’s underneath?”
She lifts the hem of her jersey, and in one swift movement, it’s on the floor.
Her breasts are perky and gorgeous.
She isn’t even wearing a bra. The only layer of clothing nestled against her are the dark-ruby panties that are lace and see-through.
My cock twitches in my pants.
Now is not the time to get a hard-on for Bristol Greyson.
Never is about the right time, but I’m not doing something she’ll regret come morning and have the police at my door, labeling me a predator.
I spin around, doing everything I can to not stare at her gorgeous breasts or the perfect complexion of her skin, how she looks like an absolute goddess.
She’s the enemy.
The reminder doesn’t help my cock. It doesn’t seem to care who she is, only how sexy she looks right now.
I stalk across the room to her dresser, stumbling through the drawers, finding an oversized t-shirt and tossing it at her. “Put that on,” I grunt.
I swear I can hear the pout in her voice. “Do I have to?”
“Yes.” I exhale heavily and fold my arms across my chest. I run a hand through my hair. “Are you decent yet?”
“I’m always decent,” Bristol says, and I chance a glance over my shoulder as she’s wearing the t-shirt.
She slips under the covers, still sitting up in bed. “Are you sure you don’t want to join me?” Her hands wrestle under the blankets, and I give her a curious expression when she tosses those bare-thin red lace panties straight at my face.
I’m not expecting them or the fact that she’s half-naked in bed.
“You really don’t like me, do you?” Her bottom lip juts out in a pout, and I bite down on my own lip to avoid striding across the room and kissing her.
“I hate you.”
It’s a little white lie.
I have to say it so I can compel myself not to fall for Bristol and her vixen ways.
“I hate you too,” she says, but she doesn’t sound convincing. “We can hate fuck.” Bristol grins at me as she lies back on the bed. “I’ll wear whatever you want. Even my ex-boyfriend’s t-shirt,” she gestures to the shirt she’s in, “if that gets you off.”
I toss my head back and stare up at the ceiling.
Perhaps I should have left well enough alone. Let her take the bus home and gone back with the team.
Because Bristol, at this rate, will have me murdered by her father if he gets wind of any of this. Even if I don’t sleep with her, this whole scenario could get me sanctioned and kicked off the team.
“I should go.” I stumble back toward the door.
“Wait!” Bristol’s eyes widen, and she sits up in bed. “You’re actually going to leave me like this?” Her face flushes with what I can only assume is embarrassment.
I stand with the door to my back, just inches from escape.
“Of course, you hate me.” She’s spiraling. “You’ve always hated me and I stupidly throw myself at you because that’s what I do when I like someone.” She slams her eyes shut and is berating herself.
Sighing, I step forward toward the bed and grab her desk chair, pulling it over to sit beside her. “You’ve been drinking, Bristol. Nothing can happen until you’re sober. When you can actually give consent. Right now, it would be me taking advantage of you.”
Her brow pinches.
“I’m not drunk.”
“You’re not sober, either,” I counter. I’d bet she’s more than just a little tipsy, with the way she was throwing those panties at me, but I’ll let it slide. “How about you lie back down, close your eyes, and get some sleep? I’ll stay until you fall asleep.”
“I’m not tired.”
Me neither, not when Bristol is throwing herself at me.
Even if I wanted to fuck her, tonight is not the night.
“Then talk to me until you fall asleep.”
She grumbles and lies back down, resting her head on the pillow. Bristol shifts onto her side, pulling the blankets up but staring at me. “Talk about what?” She fights a yawn, just like Zeke would when Luca tells him it’s bedtime.
“You did good tonight singing, dancing up on stage. No fainting,” I say, a bit surprised she managed to last an entire night without an episode.
“Yeah,” she nods slowly, “I’m on medicine now.” Bristol yawns. “Ariella’s doctor was amazing. I mean, after she ran a bazillion different tests and practically tortured me as part of her practicing medicine.”
“Amazing, huh?” I stare down at Bristol. “I think you and I have different definitions of amazing. Not that the sound of Bristol Greyson being tortured is terrible.” I crack a grin, and she snarls at me and shows her fist.
I grab it, keeping her from landing a blow on me. “You’re a jerk.”
“I know. I thought we already established that you love to hate me.”
Bristol rolls onto her back. “You might be onto something.” Her eyes flutter closed.
“Are you going to tell me about that medical condition?” I ask curiously.
“Buzz off.” She throws up her middle finger at me before ignoring me and drifting off to sleep.
I stay through the night, wanting to be there if she has a problem.
I fall asleep uncomfortably on the chair.
“Liam?” Bristol’s voice rattles me awake.
My eyes flash open and the crick in my neck is unbearable. It’s also still dark outside.
“Go back to sleep.” I force a smile and shift on the chair, my legs stretched out beneath the bed.
Bristol pulls back the covers and shifts on the mattress, her back flush against the wall. “Join me.”
“Do you really think that’s a good idea?”
“Just sleep,” she grumbles at me. “I’m not offering you anything more.”
I slip out of my shoes and climb under the covers with her. The bed is toasty, and I roll onto my side, trying to give us both ample space on the twin mattress.
Stretching out helps my neck, and I shut my eyes, trying to sleep.
The bed shifts as Bristol seems to grow restless. My back is to her as I try desperately to ignore her subtle movements, which become more pronounced every few minutes.
“Am I taking up too much space?” I roll around to face her.
Bristol’s eyes are wide open.
Wordlessly, she shakes her head, and I let my eyelids flutter shut.
I’m exhausted.
Hockey and Bristol will do that to me.
“Sleep.” I pull her against me.
Her body is tense and I let my fingers caress over her back and down just above her ass. She hums softly and sighs, curling up against me, sliding her leg between mine.
“Goodnight,” I whisper, kissing her cheek before I’m out cold.