Chapter Seven
“I can’t believe you guys talked me into another freaking party.” I groan as we pull up outside of the frat house.
It’s been exactly five days since I kissed Kai. And exactly five days since I’ve seen or spoken to him. It’s not uncommon for me not to see him for days at a time. It is, however, a little bothersome, given what transpired.
I can’t help but feel like he’s avoiding me. Which is probably why I let Maisie talk me into going tonight even though it was the last thing I wanted to do. I need a distraction, plain and simple.
“It’ll do you good to get your mind off things,” Charlotte murmurs close to my ear so Maisie can’t hear, bumping her hip into mine.
I feel horrible keeping Maisie out of the loop, but this is hard enough to navigate without adding any further complications to the mix. Deep down I know the real reason I haven’t told her is because I’m afraid she’ll think less of me, and maybe also that she won’t approve.
Not that I need hers, or anyone else’s, approval. I don’t. But I also know myself well enough to know that if it bothers Maisie, I won’t go through with it. Not that there’s anything to go through with, considering Kai has basically fallen off the face of the earth. So really, it’s a moot point anyway.
“It’s the annual top swap party. No way I was going to let you miss it.” Maisie steps up to stand at my other side.
“You two say that about every party.” I give her a pointed look. “How many annual parties do these people do?”
“You have to admit the paint party was pretty epic,” Char chimes in.
I open my mouth to disagree but then snap it shut because, really, it was a great time. My mind drifts back to the way the night ended, the things Kai said, and my heart kicks against my ribs, reminding me that she’s still in there beating, despite everything she’s been through.
“That’s what I thought.” She grins, taking my non-answer as a victory.
“I’m surprised either of you even remembers it,” I retort, looking between them.
“If I remember right, you weren’t exactly sober either.” Maisie gives me a pointed look.
“Fair.” I laugh, following Charlotte and Maisie inside.
It’s not lost on me that this is the same house where I saw Kai for the very first time. I remember the way he defended me. The way he looked at me. And then, the way he propositioned me, like I was just going to leave the party with a man I’d never met ten minutes after arriving.
If I’m honest, had Maisie not shown up, I can’t say for certain that I would have said no. I know that sounds ludicrous, but Kai Elliot brings out a side of me I honestly didn’t even know existed until that night. A side of me that has been silently tucked away in the background but has now clawed and scratched her way to the surface, and she won’t be satiated until she gets exactly what she wants. Or rather who she wants. And he did all that in a single look. I can only imagine what he could do with his touch, especially when his kiss has already dismantled me into a million pieces.
“Draw a name.” A tall guy with broad shoulders currently shoved into an itty-bitty crop top that clearly doesn’t belong to him shoves a hat in our direction the second we step over the threshold.
“What?” I look at Char as she reaches forward, taking a piece of paper from the hat.
“That’s how it works. Every guy who enters puts his name in the hat. Every girl who enters draws a name. Whichever guy you draw, you switch shirts with.” She hands the paper back to the hat guy without reading the name.
“Chris Johnston,” he bellows through a megaphone, the name traveling through the crowd like a seriously loud game of telephone. Moments later, a dark-skinned man with arm muscles bigger than my head appears in the foyer, his smile widening when he gets a good look at Charlotte.
“Switch,” hat guy instructs.
“Wait, what...” My eyes widen as I watch Char tug her halter top up over her head, revealing a black strapless bra underneath. Her chosen guy does the same, handing her his dark blue T-shirt while she hands him her top.
She quickly throws his on, the dang thing so long that if it had been me who had drawn his name, it would have come to my knees rather than just past my hips like it does on Char.
Watching Chris put on her halter top is much more entertaining. The small material gets stuck about halfway down his muscular chest and Charlotte has to step in and help him get it on.
He looks ridiculous.
And he’s definitely going to ruin her shirt. I can’t imagine there’s going to be any way it’s going to survive being stretched to its max like that.
“Shall we?” He offers her his arm moments later.
“Let’s.” She takes it, offering me and Maisie a little wave over her shoulder.
“Where is she going?” I ask Maisie, mildly horrified.
“It’s customary that once you switch shirts, you share a drink.”
“So you have to—”
“Relax, it’s just one drink and then you can reconvene with your friends,” hat guy interjects, clearly sensing my hesitation.
“You’ll be fine,” Maisie reassures. “Go ahead.” She gestures toward the hat.
I hesitate for more than just a few seconds before finally reaching my hand into the hat and slowly pulling out a piece of paper.
I hold my breath as I hand it over.
“Owen Grady,” hat guy shouts into the megaphone, the name carrying through the crowd as it had with Charlotte’s guy.
Owen Grady... It takes me way longer than it should to recognize the last name, his familiar face appearing through the crowd the instant it dawns on me.
“You pulled my name?” The dimple on his left cheek makes an appearance when he smiles, seeming genuinely excited that it’s me. And in truth, I’m pretty relieved myself.
Just because things didn’t exactly work out between us in a romantic way doesn’t mean we can’t be friends. And truthfully, I’d much rather have a drink with someone I kinda know instead of a complete stranger.
“I guess I did.”
I’d return his smile, but I’ve suddenly realized this means I have to remove my shirt in front of him, hat guy, and anyone else who may be looking. Nervous energy tingles up my spine.
“Switch,” hat guy instructs, and I briefly wonder how he got this job. Must suck being the guy who has to pair everyone up instead of getting to enjoy the party yourself.
“I... Uh...” I start, words failing me as I watch Owen remove his shirt, revealing his muscular and very fit physique.
Shit.
It’s not that I hate my body or anything. I’m just not exactly used to showing it off to random people. The thought of doing so has my insides churning and I have to breathe through the tiny pricks of panic collecting in my chest.
When Owen hands me his shirt, a basic white tee that smells like his cologne, I get an idea. Without a word, I pull it over my head. As expected, it’s quite big on me, giving me room to work as I remove my light blue top underneath, pulling it through one of the armholes before handing it over.
“Well, that’s one way to do it.” Maisie chuckles at my side.
Owen throws it over his head, fighting to get the material over his shoulders, which he eventually does.
It isn’t until he straightens that I get a good look at him and once I do, I buckle in laughter. I can’t help it. The shirt that comes to the waistband of my jean shorts doesn’t even reach the middle of his abdomen, and the cap sleeves are so tight around his armpits that he ends up ripping the material to make it work.
Even though I actually really liked the top, I’m too busy laughing to care that he just ruined it. Perhaps if I had realized what a top swap party actually entailed, I would have worn something I didn’t care to have destroyed. That’s what I get for not asking enough questions, a mistake I won’t make a second time.
“How do I look?” He holds his arms out and I’m struck by just how handsome he actually is. It’s no wonder I was attracted to him almost instantly. He really is a good-looking guy.
Not that I have any intention of going there with him. We tried that once and it didn’t go so well. Though if I’m honest with myself, it’s a bit hypocritical of me to hold such things against him when Kai has done that and probably worse and yet it didn’t stop me from sticking my tongue down his throat the first chance I got.
Then again, Owen Grady is no Kai Elliot.
“Amazing.” I smile, taking his arm when he offers it.
“I’ll catch up with you in a few,” Maisie tells me, and I nod, throwing her one last look over my shoulder before Owen leads me away.
“You look incredible in my shirt.” Owen waits until we’ve reached the kitchen to say, releasing my arm.
I snort, looking down to see the shirt completely covers my shorts.
“Looks like I’m not wearing any pants,” I state flatly.
“I don’t see a problem with that.” He winks, turning to grab two plastic cups. “Beer good?”
“That’s fine.” I nod.
He fills both cups at the keg, and I keep a close eye on both drinks to make sure nothing gets slipped into one or both. Not that I don’t trust Owen. He’s never given me reason to think he’d do such a thing, but one can never be too careful.
When he turns and hands me a cup, I feel satisfied that it’s safe to drink.
“Not sure what good deed I did that you, of all people, would draw my name, but I’m sure glad you did.” He grins, his dimple making another appearance.
“Me too,” I agree, and I mean it. Again, I’d rather be here with him than with a complete stranger.
“To happy accidents.” He taps his cup against mine.
“To happy accidents.” I return the sentiment, waiting until he lifts his cup and drinks before doing the same.
“You any good at pool?” he asks, offering me his arm a second time.
“Not really.” I smile, slipping my arm through his.
“But you know how to play?” He leads me from the kitchen.
“I do.”
“Well, there’s no way you can be worse than my last partner. He was terrible.” He chuckles, excusing us through a thick crowd as we enter the back room.
My gaze jumps to the couches where Kai was sitting that first night, disappointment settling in my gut when the spot sits vacant. Not that I actually expected him to be there or anything...
I shake off the thought, turning my attention back to Owen.
“How bad are we talking?” I ask.
“Pretty sure he didn’t know the difference between stripes and solids.”
“There’s a difference?”
Wide eyes swing to me.
“Please tell me you’re kidding.”
“I am.” I give him a cheeky smile.
“Beautiful and funny.” He clucks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, staring at me long enough that I feel the need to divert.
“So are you asking me to play or what?” I tip my head toward the pool table, which is currently occupied.
“You want to?”
“Sure,” I agree, because really, what else do I have to do?
“We got winners,” Owen announces as we reach the far side of the table where two sets of guys are currently playing. By the looks of it, they’re almost done too, given that there are only three balls left on the table.
“Didn’t realize you’d be so eager to lose again already,” one of the guys says to Owen.
“I blame Sam. As you can see, I have a new partner.” He nudges me softly.
“Well, she’s a fuck ton hotter than Sam, I’ll give you that.” He smiles, throwing a brief glance my way before returning to his shot.
I dip my face to hide the blush teasing my cheeks.
He nails the eight ball seconds later and then proceeds to rub the victory in his opponents’ faces for a good two minutes before he reracks the table and calls next game.
Turns out, I’m not quite as bad as I expected to be. I mean, I’m not necessarily good either, but I do manage to knock in a couple of balls and not completely embarrass myself in the process. We lose the first game but not by much, and since there’s no one else waiting for next game, we play another, this one coming down to only the eight ball, which Owen ends up scratching on, losing us the game a second time.
We’re on game three by the time Char finds us, having long since abandoned her shirt swap guy. She partners up with another guy I’ve never met and takes next game, while me and Owen hang back and watch them get completely annihilated.
We play for another hour or so, by which time Owen has killed at least six beers to my two. The more he drinks, the louder and more hysterical he becomes. We only talked for a few days before that disastrous first date, though I use the word date very loosely, so I never really got to see this side of him, and I have to admit, I don’t totally hate it. Sure, he’s a bit obnoxious, but in a cute way, if such a thing exists.
I can’t deny that I’m having fun. I am. But I also can’t deny that I find myself looking back toward the door every few minutes, waiting for someone who will likely never show. I mean, I practically jumped the guy on the quad and then he ghosted me for nearly a week. If I haven’t gotten the hint by now, then I’m even more pathetic than I already thought.
“I need another drink,” Owen announces after we lose... again. At this point, I’ve lost track of how many times we’ve been defeated. I just know it’s a lot. “Come with me?” he asks, snagging my hand.
Without waiting for an answer, he pulls me alongside him. I don’t mind, though, so I go willingly, waving at Maisie as I pass, who’s sitting on the far side couches with a couple of other people, looking oddly distracted and yet like she’s having a good time all the same. Funny enough, that’s kind of how I feel.
“I’m so glad you pulled my name,” Owen tells me for about the hundredth time tonight as we head down the hallway in the direction of the kitchen.
“So you’ve said.” I chuckle.
“Well, I mean it.” He stops short of the kitchen, turning so abruptly that I don’t have time to step away before he has me trapped between him and the wall. “I know I fucked up last time.”
I suck in a breath and hold it when his face dips.
If he kisses me, I don’t know what I’ll do. Not that I’d be totally offended by him kissing me, but I don’t know; something about it makes my stomach feel sour.
“But I’m hoping maybe we can start over.” He finishes his sentence after a long pause.
“Start over?” I act like I have no idea what he’s talking about, stalling really. “We’re friends,” I remind him.
“What if I don’t want to just be your friend?” His face is closer now, his nose sliding against my cheek when I turn my head to avoid him head-on.
“Owen.” I press my hands to his chest, though it’s no easy feat, given how close he’s standing. Even still, I manage to get enough leverage to attempt to push him back. Note that I said attempt, which is basically all I do because he doesn’t budge.
“I like you, Lyric.” His mouth is at my ear now, my entire body tensing when his teeth graze my lobe. “We could be so good together. I know you see it.” He nuzzles my neck, his lips finding the soft spot below my ear.
“Owen.” I try to push him away again, but it does little to deter him.
Gone is the playfully obnoxious man who’s had me buckled over in laughter all night. He’s been replaced by a very persistent, borderline inappropriate man, who is about one grind of his hips into mine away from a knee to the groin.
“Lyric.” His lips touch my cheek and I pull back, preparing to take physical action to get him off of me. Only before I can even formulate what that would even look like, the heat of his body disappears in a flash.
It takes me several seconds to process the next set of events because the instant I register Kai’s face, everything else becomes a blur.
“You were always shit for taking no for an answer.” Kai seethes, pinning Owen to the opposite wall, his forearm pressed to his throat, cutting off his air supply. His expression morphs to panic, his mouth opening and closing, trying to find air. “Only this time, you fucked with something that belongs to me.”
My heart leaps into my throat.
“And that I simply cannot have.” His voice is eerily calm and yet somehow disturbingly menacing at the same time.
“I’m...” Owen tries to speak but can’t get out more than a syllable before Kai presses against his throat harder. I watch in horror as his red face begins to take on a purplish hue.
“Touch her again and I’ll fucking kill you. Is that understood?” He growls, getting nose to nose with Owen, who tries to nod but can’t really move, his eyes wide in fear.
I’m frozen to the spot, unable to intervene—hell, unable to move—paralyzed by the dozens of people who have gathered in the hall, their gazes bouncing between the two men and me. I press my back tighter against the wall, wishing for it to swallow me whole.
Even though Kai looks seconds away from killing Owen, not a single soul dares to step in. Just when I think he might actually do it, he drops his arm.
Owen sinks to his knees, gasping for the air his lungs so desperately need.
I watch on in horror.
“In case I didn’t make myself clear...” I don’t even realize Kai’s moved until he’s in front of me. “Mine.”
My eyes flash to his to see he’s looking right at me.
Wait... Is he... Staking his claim ?
I don’t know whether to be offended or turned on. Hell, maybe I’m a little bit of both.
“Mine,” he repeats, louder this time, as if he wants to make sure everyone watching can hear.
Taking my face in both of his hands, his mouth meets mine, kissing away any rebuttal I might have come up with. And while my initial reaction is to push him away, feeling the burn of various sets of eyes as people watch on, once he drags his tongue across mine in that seductive way he does, I melt against him, having never stood a chance.
“Come on, let’s get out of here,” he murmurs against my lips, and all I can do is nod in agreement, words evading me.
Stepping back, he tucks me into his side, his arm going around my shoulder, and only then do I allow myself to look at the crowd gathered around us. Most of them showed up for the altercation with Owen, who’s still on the floor gasping for air, but that didn’t stop them from staying once Kai’s attention turned to me. Some looked shocked. Others angry, including a couple girls who look torn between tears and clawing my eyeballs out. Some seem indifferent, just looking on, hoping for a real fight. And even a few look almost impressed, including Maisie, whose gaze I meet seconds before Kai shuffles me out the door.
Any worry I had that she’d be upset with me for not heeding her warning about Kai seems to have been unwarranted if the way she smiles at me is any indication.
The evening air is cool on my overheated skin as we step outside, some of my sense seeming to return.
“What the hell was that?” I wait until we’re clear of the yard before asking, dipping out from under Kai’s arm.
“What was what?” He pivots to face me, his expression completely at ease, like he didn’t just nearly choke someone out for trying to kiss me.
“That!” I gesture back toward the house. “You could have killed Owen.”
“Only I didn’t.” His brow furrows like he doesn’t see the problem here.
“And then you told everyone that I belong to you, like I’m some kind of possession.”
“ You kissed me. You told me this was what you wanted.” His gaze darkens. “Did I give you the impression that I’m the kind of man who likes to share? Because I can assure you, I am not.”
My heart thunders in my chest and it takes every ounce of willpower I possess to keep my feet rooted.
“That doesn’t mean you have to stake some kind of possessive claim on me in front of all those people. After that little show you put on, people are going to be afraid to even talk to me.”
“Then it worked.”
“Seriously.” I gape at him.
“Do I look anything but serious?” He arches a thick brow. “Now take off that fucking shirt.” He gestures to Owen’s tee, which I’d honestly forgotten I was even wearing.
“I can’t. I don’t have anything else to put on.”
Without a second of hesitation, he reaches for the hem of his own T-shirt, tugging it over his head before extending it to me. I’m so taken by the sight of him, by the ripple of his muscle, by the swirls of ink, by the sheer hunger I feel for this man, it takes me a lot longer than it should to actually take it.
He stares back at me expectantly.
“Turn around.” I swirl my fingers.
“No,” he states flatly. “Take off that shirt, right now.”
I should be mad that he thinks he can boss me around this way, but the way he says it is so freaking sexy, I find myself doing it just the same.
Lifting the material over my head, I ignore the impulse to cover myself as I drop Owen’s shirt to the ground. Kai’s expression darkens as he stares back at my half-naked body, and while I’m tempted to let him look for a few seconds longer, loving the way he watches me, I’m also acutely aware that we’re not exactly in private.
I stare back at him as I slip his shirt on, internally salivating at the way his incredible smell invades every single one of my senses, overwhelming me in a way only Kai Elliot can do.
“Why?” I finally speak after what feels like hours, careful to keep my eyes on his face instead of his very shirtless torso, though the feat is easier said than done.
“Why what?” His head cocks to the side, a hint of amusement dancing in those incredible blue eyes of his. Eyes I’ve dreamed about staring into while he does things to my body I can’t even bring myself to speak aloud.
“I know you well enough to know that you don’t go around staking claim to every woman you sleep with, which we haven’t even done yet, by the way.” My cheeks heat just at the simple implication that we will , in fact, sleep together.
My skin tingles with anticipation.
“Should we remedy that?” His head tilts, a smirk tugging at his full lips, and that tingle I just mentioned becomes a full-on inferno that seems trained in one very specific area.
“Tell me why.” I refuse to let him distract me.
“I already did. You’re just not listening.”
“Then explain it again.”
“I don’t share. If you want this, those are my terms. Until I say otherwise, you are mine, and anyone who touches what’s mine will suffer the same fate as the asshat in there who was stupid enough to put his hands on you.”
I consider his position for a moment, wondering how I’d feel if I saw him and another girl in a similar position. Would I feel possessive? Hell yes, I would. Would I want to rip her throat out? You best freaking believe it. Does that mean I’m in love with him? Absolutely not. Honestly, I’m not even sure I like him. Or maybe I’m just trying to convince myself I don’t. That this is purely a sexual attraction. An itch I desperately need to scratch.
“Until you say otherwise?” I take a step toward him, my fingers itching to reach out and touch him.
“Or you could just walk away now.”
“And does that work both ways?” I choose to ignore the walk away part, knowing he could set the ground beneath my feet on fire and it still wouldn’t be enough to send me running.
“Does what work both ways?”
“You don’t want anyone else touching me. Does that mean no one else will be touching you?”
“You want me to promise that if I’m fucking you, I won’t be fucking anyone else?” His eyes darken and I swallow my words, nodding in lieu of speaking. “Done. So long as you understand that that’s all this will ever be.”
His words scrape across my skin like razor blades, opening fresh wounds in their wake.
I knew that’s all this would ever be to him, all I would ever be, and yet it didn’t stop me from kissing him that day, and it certainly hasn’t stopped me from fantasizing about what comes next every day since. I couldn’t walk away now, even if I wanted to. I’m already in way too deep.
“Where have you been? I haven’t seen you in days,” I ask instead of commenting, afraid that if I did, my voice would betray me, and he’d end this before it even began.
How pathetic, to be so desperate for a man that you’ll settle for the scraps of bread he’ll throw your way instead of the five-course meal you deserve to be served.
“I had some personal matters to attend to.”
“So you weren’t avoiding me?”
A smile tips his mouth and he instantly closes the distance between us, his hand snaking around my back, pulling my body flush with his. My heart jackhammers... Yep, definitely in way too deep .
“Is that what you thought I was doing?” He leans in, brushing his lips over mine in a featherlike kiss.
“Yes,” I admit softly, letting my hands slide up around the back of his neck, reveling in the way his skin feels beneath my fingertips.
“I can assure you, I wasn’t.” He pulls back just enough to meet my gaze. “In fact, I’ve spent the last five days dreaming about this...” He slides his tongue across my lower lip, and I swear I feel the action everywhere . “Among other things.”
My lips part on instinct and he takes advantage, plunging his tongue into my mouth.
I kiss him back with just as much fervor, my hands finding the back of his head, my fingers tangling in the silky dark strands.
“Is your roommate home?” I murmur against his mouth.
My body feels like an active volcano, the heat churning inside of me, just waiting for the moment of eruption. One touch. One kiss. That’s all it takes and I’m like a freaking dog in heat. Which is a pretty accurate comparison, given that I’m tempted to start humping his leg in an effort to get even a little relief from the deep ache his touch evokes.
“I don’t have a roommate.” He swirls his tongue around mine in a way that feels like he’s been kissing me my whole life, like he’s had years to memorize every curve of my mouth and perfect exactly how to maneuver it with expert precision.
“Then why are we still standing here?” I don’t have it in me to be embarrassed by my brazenness. I want him and I won’t apologize for it.
After spending my entire life listening to what others thought was best for me, doing what others deemed acceptable, being silenced by my fear of judgment, I’m finally ready to break free. To do what I want for no other reason than I want to, consequences be damned.
“My car is just down the street,” he tells me, swooping me up so fast I don’t have time to object before he has me over his shoulder, carrying me toward his car like a sack of freaking potatoes.
“Um, I can walk, you know,” I tell him, oddly entertained by the whole thing, especially given that this angle gives me a great view of his exquisite back.
“Not fast enough, and if I don’t get you back to my place like right fucking now, I’m liable to strip you bare and fuck you on this poor sap’s front lawn.” He points to someone’s yard as we pass it.
“That might be okay.” I test him.
“Don’t tempt me, Lyric.” There’s so much promise in his voice that I quickly snap my mouth shut. “That’s what I thought.” He chuckles low and deep, his back vibrating against my chest.
I have only one real thought as we reach his car and he guides me inside... What the hell am I getting myself into? Kai has warned me more than once that he’d break me and yet here I am, willingly walking into the lion’s den like somehow I’m special and won’t get my insides torn out. But a lion is still a lion, no matter how subdued they may seem. It would serve me well to remember that.