9. Felix
FELIX
“Listen,” Dahlia says, looking at the ground with those big, royal blue eyes lined in black. I’ve never seen her wear so much makeup. It’s all dark and sexy, and it’s such a contrast to her sweet and shy personality.
“I need to get something out of the way.”
“What’s up?” I ask.
She takes an audible breath and then looks me dead in the eye as she says, “I’m not going to sleep with you tonight.”
I nearly spit out my beer. Her cheeks turn red.
“Come again?”
“It’s just…I know that because of the video, you’re probably expecting me to tear off your clothes and make good on all the things I said. So, if you invited me here because of that, then you should know now that isn’t going to happen.”
“That thing with Bobby, I was just trying to shut him up. I didn’t invite you out to have sex with you.
” I bounce my head from side to side, trying to decide how honest to be with her.
Something about her rambling makes me want to open up more than usual.
“Okay, I might have been hoping that we’d end the night partially naked, but even if we don’t, I still want to hang out with you and get to know you better. ”
“Why? I’m not that interesting.”
“Sure, you are. And for the record, I’ve been trying to get to know you better since last semester. Long before that video.”
“You have?”
“Is that really surprising?”
She nods, biting the corner of her lip. “What do you want to know?”
So many things, but none of my current questions feel appropriate now that she’s taken sex off the table for tonight.
“Do you like beer pong?”
“Sure.”
“Well, that’s not very enthusiastic, so I’ll take that as a no. What about cards?”
This time she shakes her head.
“Flip cup?”
“Yes!” she screams, a little too eager and with a whole lot of sarcasm.
Laughing, I motion toward the table where a group is playing. “Let’s see what you got.”
Brogan glances up as we approach. They’re just finishing a game and people are leaving. We step up across from Brogan and Archer as the teams re-form.
“Are you sure you want to be on that side of the table?” Brogan asks her. He points at me. “That guy might be better at throwing a football, but drinking is my specialty.”
“That’s Brogan,” I say as I fill our cups with beer. “Brogan meet Dahlia.”
“Heard lots about you,” he says.
I lean closer to Dahlia. “He’s shit at flip cup. Don’t let him psych you out.”
“We’ll see.” Brogan grins.
“Nice to meet you.” Her voice is barely audible over the music.
“On three,” Archer says, glancing up and down the table. He counts down and then Dahlia and Brogan start us off.
If I expected her to be as hesitant in her flip cup skills as she is in everything else, I was wrong.
So wrong. She’s slower to drain the cup than Brogan, but she slams the cup down and then flips it lightly with one finger.
It lands perfectly. I wasn’t expecting it and I’m slow to pick up my own cup.
Luckily, Brogan is still struggling. I chug and then flip, getting it on the first try too, just not quite as perfectly as Dahlia.
The guy next to me goes, but I turn to Dahlia, instead of watching him.
“You’re pretty good at that.”
“Did you expect me to be bad?” Her brows rise.
“Maybe.”
“Because I’m a girl?”
“No, because you usually seem so timid.”
“I’m good with competition. It gets me out of my head.”
Speaking of, the cheers at the end of the table draw our attention and we glance over in time to see Lucas lifting both arms up in victory.
“We won!” I lift my hand up for her to high-five.
With a smile that spreads her pink lips wide, she smacks my hand. Her touch is warm, palm soft. I can’t resist closing my fingers around hers to prolong the contact.
Our gazes are locked when Archer says, “Can we trade Brogan for Dahlia?”
“Hey,” Brogan scoffs at his buddy.
She pulls away. Her chin drops slightly, letting her hair fall into her face. “The more I drink, the worse I get. And I’m a lightweight. So basically, I have one or two more good games in me and then you’ll be kicking my ass.”
The table laughs. Everyone except Archer. I repeat what she said and then say to her, “Archer’s mostly deaf. He reads lips.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” She signs something, hands moving with an efficiency I’ve only ever seen in Brogan.
Archer’s lips curve and he responds. He typically just signs when he and Brogan don’t want us to know what they’re saying. Fuckers. I’d love to know what he and Dahlia are saying now, but I’ve only mastered, ‘fuck you’ and ‘eat a dick.’
They continue signing at a rapid pace as all eyes at the table watch them. When Dahlia realizes the attention they’ve gathered, her chin drops.
“Do I want to know what you two were talking about?” I ask them.
“I asked him if he signs and then I was telling him that my dad is hard of hearing,” she says. “He doesn’t sign that often, but my mom and I took classes with him when I was in middle school. I’m rusty.”
“You did great,” Archer says with a wink.
“All right, are we doing this again?” Brogan asks. “I need redemption.”
I’m still staring at Dahlia. Every piece of information she gives, I want more.
“Can we join?” Bethany squeezes into the space between me and the next guy at the table. He takes one look at her and is all too happy to make room.
Fucking hell. I don’t want to be an asshole to make my point, but I want nothing to do with Bethany. She’s bad news. Just standing next to her reminds me what an idiot I was for falling for her.
Wouldn’t it be great if you could erase the bite of things said by shitty people, just by acknowledging they’re a terrible human?
It should cancel it all out, any negative words or actions.
But in my experience, it hasn’t. I still remember all the awful things she’s said and done, and I hate that I can’t shake it off as her flaws talking, instead of wondering if maybe she had a point.
“You go across from me, Carson.” She turns her head and gives me a totally fake, sweet smile. Then she looks past me to Dahlia. “Hi! I’m Bethany.”
“Dahlia.” She gives my ex a tight-lipped smile.
“You look, like, really, really familiar.”
“We had English Lit together last year,” Dahlia says.
“No. I don’t think that’s it.” Bethany brings a finger to her chin like she’s thinking. I still don’t know for sure if she was behind the video or not, but she’s trying to make Dahlia uncomfortable and I’m not having it, even if Dahlia has no idea that I used to date Bethany.
“Stop it, Bethany.” I regret the words as soon as I say them because Bethany’s smile turns smug.
“Oh my gosh,” she says. “You’re the girl from that video. Now the two of you together makes sense. No offense, but you’re not really his type.”
Dahlia’s face can’t hide the way Bethany’s words hit.
“Actually, she is exactly my type, which is why I asked her to be my girlfriend earlier tonight.”
Dahlia makes a choked, strangled sound and then hides it with a cough. I step closer and take her hand in mine. “Now that that’s settled, can we get the game going again? Start at the opposite end this time.”
I avoid the stares from my teammates and laser-beam evil eyes from Bethany, and eventually, the attention shifts from us as someone passes around a pitcher to refill our cups.
I drop Dahlia’s hand to get us both beer, but as soon as we’re set, I put my arm around her neck and toy with her hair.
I’m not sure why. Because I want to reassure her?
Because I want to touch her? Because I want to piss off Bethany? Probably all the above.
I’m successful in at least two of those. Her skin feels so good—soft and warm, and being this close, I can smell her shampoo—something floral. It’s enough to make me forget, or at least not care, that Bethany is shooting daggers in our direction.
We play two more games. Dahlia is perfection each time and I’m totally digging seeing her like this. It’s not about Bethany at all when I pick her up and spin her around to celebrate three victories in a row. I’m just having a good time seeing her kick Brogan’s ass.
She lets out a little squeal and then wraps her arms around my neck. Fuck it feels good to have her body pressed against mine.
Not hooking up. Not hooking up. Not hooking up…tonight.
I stop and slowly lower her to the ground. Her pupils are wide, and her breathing picks up as she slides down my body. I feel better than I have in months.
“Are you two playing the next round or going to make out?” Brogan asks.
It takes me a second to realize he’s talking to us.
“What do you want to do?” I ask her.
“I can’t chug any more beer,” Dahlia says, and her delicate neck tightens as she swallows. Fuck, maybe we are going to make out.
“We’re out,” I tell them.
“Armstrong and I are out too,” Bethany says.
Everyone ignores her.
“Quitting while you’re ahead. Smart.” Brogan smiles at us. “Nice to meet you, Dahlia. Have fun, you two.”
I let Dahlia go ahead of me and flip Brogan off as I follow her.
We stop by the keg, where I get another beer, then we run into some more of my teammates and guys I know from classes and partying together.
I introduce Dahlia and everyone is great to her, but I can feel her closing off more with each second.
I thought we’d moved past her being shy around me, but I guess that was wishful thinking.
I ask her a little about herself, her designs, even freaking Eddie Dillon, and she answers succinctly but doesn’t provide any more details than necessary to answer the questions.
I’m running out of ideas and this is officially going to end as the worst date ever.
Or, fuck, Brogan’s in my head. Worst non-date ever.
“Are you okay?” I ask, as I lead her to a quieter spot on the far side of the yard.
“I’m sorry. I know I’m ruining this night. I’m just so nervous. I heard two girls whispering about Felix’s new girlfriend. Everyone thinks we’re together. I’m so sorry. Rumors spread fast at a party.”
“You’re not ruining anything.” I give in and touch her again, taking her hand and linking our fingers. “And you don’t need to be nervous or sorry. Let them think we’re together. Who cares?”
“If only it were that easy.”
“It’s been hours and no one has said anything about the video.”
“Except your ex-girlfriend.” She meets my gaze.
I guess that answers the question about whether she knew Bethany was my ex.
“Bethany’s bullshit is about me. Don’t pay her any attention. That’s what she wants. She’s sleeping with my teammate and trying to make me jealous.”
“She wants you back,” Dahlia says.
“No. Well, yes, but not because she really wants to be with me. She wants a reaction because it makes her feel like she still has control over me. That’s all she wants. To feel like she has the upper hand.” I gave into her drama too many times and now I’m paying the price.
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you, but you don’t need to apologize for her bullshit.”
“I can still be sorry. That must suck.”
I smile at her. “I’m not ever going down that road again, so it doesn’t matter what she says or does. Don’t let her get to you.”
“She’s pretty.”
I follow Dahlia’s gaze across the yard to where Bethany is dancing with Armstrong. Sure, she’s pretty, but she uses it like a weapon.
“So are you.”
One side of her lips pulls higher than the other when she smiles. “You’re a terrible flirt.”
“I’m a great flirt.” I move closer and rest a hand on her hip.
“You know what I meant.”
The air between us is charged and maybe I’ve figured out how to make her more comfortable. Hint: it’s with my fingers and mouth.
Keeping one hand at her hip, I bring the other up to her face and push back her hair, so I can see more of her.
“Felix,” she whispers.
“Mhmm.” I trail my fingers along her cheek.
“I’m not going to have sex with you.”
“Not tonight, I know.” I step closer, eliminating some of the space between us. “But we can do other things.”
Her neck is so long and delicate and she smells so freaking good. I dip my head to press a soft kiss to her skin. She stills, but tips her head slightly, giving me better access.
“No, I mean, I don’t know how to do anything. I’ve never…done it.”
Her comment strikes me as odd, but I’m too busy kissing her neck. She tastes so sweet.
“Felix?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“Did you hear me, because it’s really embarrassing and I don’t want to repeat it if I don’t have to, but it doesn’t seem like you heard me.”
I stand straight to look at her, but keep our bodies close. I repeat her last words. “You’ve never done it.”
Oh fuck.
“Wait. You mean…”
Her face is so red, I know it’s true, but I ask anyway. “You’re a virgin?”
She squeezes her eyes shut. “Yes, but that’s not all.”
My brain isn’t working well enough to figure out what ‘that’s not all’ could possibly mean.
“I’ve never done anything. I’ve never even been kissed.”
My expression must show my shock because, when she opens her eyes, she immediately hides her face behind her hands.
“Oh god, I’m so embarrassed. I just didn’t want you to kiss me and then I’d suck at it and the only thing I can think of that would be worse than you not kissing me, is if you kissed me and I was awful at it.
I’m not a total moron; I know how to kiss.
It’s just that I’ve never done it. And you’ve kissed lots of people.
Not a lot like I’m grossed out about it. Just a normal, college-guy amount.”
I let her ramble because I’m still reeling.
No knocking virgins—I get that there are all sorts of reasons a person decides to wait to have sex, but I was about to suggest we find a bathroom where I could finger her.
And I probably would have scarred her for life.
How in the hell has no one kissed her? I’m considering asking her, or maybe just taking her perfect mouth right here.
When she finally stops, she takes a deep breath. “I’m gonna go.”
“Wait.” I snap out of it as she takes a step away from me. “Don’t go.”