20. Kirin
Kirin
Kirin stepped into the party and immediately sought the birthday boy.
Robbie Curtis, captain of the basketball team, was standing at the edge of the beer pong table where two of his teammates were dueling it out.
Kirin made his way through the crowd, squeezing Leon’s shoulder as he went by the quarterback, who was standing near the island with a blonde who was looking at him like he was the best thing in the world.
“H?” Leon asked, his brows pinched and Kirin shook his head.
“Labs.” That got an eye roll as Leon went back to his conversations. Kirin kept moving, he slapped their punter, Jacob Klein, on the shoulder as he squeezed between him and the wall.
Klein shoved him, and he went to return it when he noticed the three people dancing in the middle of the dining room. His heart stuttered, then picked up double time as he caught a flash of the auburn-haired goddess who’d threatened to key his truck.
Other than that impromptu lunch at Bob’s, he’d hardly seen Rose, and they were falling behind on their project.
Their journals were still being turned in.
He could see that in the portal, but no one had seen them together on campus more than twice.
She was so much more willing to talk to him over text, but he was itching for some face-to-face time.
He had already tried and failed at pushing her on something she didn’t want to talk about.
The next time he did, he needed to see her face, and this wasn’t what he wanted to try his luck on.
Kirin would be lying to himself if he said he was confident about this kiss tonight. His stomach had been in knots all day, which was another first for him. He wanted her, and he was just getting around to accepting that. But this kiss could be a make-or-break moment.
Every time he looked her over, he tried to commit her to memory; tonight was no exception.
The golden strip of skin peeking out between her cut-off shorts and the V-neck, the long, toned legs he remembered sliding his thigh between, freckles across her nose that were bright and clear beneath the sheen of sweat dusting her skin, her deep auburn hair partially piled on top of her head, lipstick in the same color he’d seen other girls wearing.
He hadn’t been a fan of that shade until this very moment.
“You got the finest girl in all the land,” Robbie said in his ear as he wrapped an arm around Kirin’s shoulder and shook him. “And the whole damn world knows it now.”
Kirin chuckled, his eyes glued to the way Rose was swiveling her hips as she danced with a couple of girls in silk babydoll pajamas he didn’t even bother giving a cursory look at. Rose would have his attention in a shapeless sack. “I doubt the MU social pages reach the entire world.”
“Not the damn social pages or those dumbass polls. I’m talking about this afternoons post from college hunnies.” Robbie pulled his phone out and swiped through what looked like a hundred apps until he stopped on the thread he was talking about.
Kirin grabbed the phone and looked at the post labeled “hottie of the week” posted by an account claiming to be “college hunnies.” There were three photos.
All of them were of Rose in various states of undress.
None of them were outright inappropriate, but two of them seemed private.
Her hair was a mess, like someone had had their hands in it right before.
A pale blue sheet barely covered the more private areas as she nestled in someone’s bed, obviously posing, and she was looking at the camera with a sultry, hazy smile in two of them.
He stared at the third photo, the thick ponytail of auburn curls, her arms thrown above her head as her back arched enough that anyone could make out the silhouette of her perky breasts beneath the silk halter top.
He stared at the phone, ignoring Robbie’s smirk as he took in the somewhat blurry photo.
It was obviously an action shot, taken on the dance floor at a Westmont party if the streamers were any hint, which put it in a slightly less alarming category than the others.
The glitter and sweat on her golden skin made her sparkle.
The odd lighting made her eyes glow beneath the thick fringe of her eyelashes.
Her pupils were blown wide enough to cause an ache of worry in the pit of his stomach.
This single photo showed more of her than he’d seen. Her short skirt and halter left little to the imagination. But the incomplete angel wings inked on her back hit him in the gut more than anything.
Somehow, they fit her so well, and he wondered if he peeled off the shirt she was wearing now, how complete they would be.
He looked back at the other photos, swallowing the jealousy and anguish that came in equal measure.
For her to be shown off like this, it felt invasive and claiming. And he doubted she knew.
That made it worse.
“You good, man? I bet you’ve got more than this on your camera roll. Nice of you to share,” Robbie joked, and Kirin’s grip on the phone tightened.
Robbie thought I put these out there? It turned his stomach.
Robbie wouldn’t know that her ex likely submitted these, and he probably hadn’t noticed her dilated pupils. It wasn’t a leap to assume she avoided parties because someone had slipped her something. This practically confirmed it. The questions he hadn’t been able to get answers to filled in.
With a grasp tight enough to strangle someone, Kirin turned to Robbie. “Can you report the account?”
“What? Why?” Robbie chuckled, his smile slipping when their eyes met, his voice dropping as his attention shifted to the phone still gripped in Kirin’s hand. Robbie’s voice was sterner when he asked his next two questions. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“I haven’t asked, but I’m willing to bet whatever career I’ll have that she didn’t submit these and, to be clear, I certainly didn’t.” Kirin took a deep breath and tried to relax his hand. “Please report the account and don’t show it to anyone else.”
“Yeah.” Robbie blinked and took his phone, his face paling when he looked at them again. “Of course, man. I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”
Kirin rubbed a hand over his face, groaning under his breath. “I don’t think she knows about these.”
They both looked to the other side of the room, just as the dance team weaved themselves through the party. Robbie’s attention shifted, and before he lost him for good, Kirin reached out a hand to his friend, and Robbie shook it.
“I know it wasn’t intentional, but thank you for showing me.” He squeezed Robbie’s hand and gave it another pump. “I appreciate it.”
“It feels weird to say you’re welcome.” Robbie winced and scratched his forehead. “How are you going to tell her?”
Across the room, Rose threw her head back and laughed at something one girl was saying in her ear.
He hated to ruin her night, and this would ruin her night.
One girl dancing with Rose leaned forward and murmured something, her attention shifting to the dancers wearing cropped basketball jerseys sporting the names and numbers of the members of Robbie’s team.
Kirin followed her gaze, taking in the sea of perfect hair and body glitter as they weaved toward him, Robbie, and the kitchen they were partially blocking the entrance to.
Several of them trailed a hand over Robbie’s arm, then his chest as they passed by.
Kirin offered them polite smiles, stepping out of their reach when they got close enough that he thought they might touch him, and sighed inwardly when their dance captain stepped into his space.
He’d avoided crossing paths with Violet since the party at his place.
He wasn’t looking forward to whatever attempt she was about to make.
“You gonna watch me dance?” she asked, leaning into him, batting her blue eyes at him, and when he stepped back, trying to keep the distance between them, her brows knit. “What’s wrong?”
“Violet, we had this discussion last year. And I’m with someone so it’s really not appropriate.” He slid his hands into his pockets and glanced over her head at Rose, who, along with half the room, was watching him fail to keep a former one-night stand at arm’s length.
“Oh, that transfer from Westmont trying to be the next Playboy Bunny?” Violet laughed and tossed her hair as if it would help her shrug off her insecurities. “Like you’d ever go there, plus a redhead? Please.”
Where to begin with that? He scratched his temple, mulling over how to approach it, when he caught Rose’s eye as she cut through the party and stepped around Violet like she was a piece of furniture.
He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her to his side.
“Violet, I don’t think you’ve met Rose.”
Rose leaned a little closer when she held a hand out to Violet, a smile tilting her lips as the movement wafted a gentle scent of roses and vanilla in his direction. Another breath and it invaded his senses as she spoke.
“So nice to meet you, Violet.” He felt the force behind her words, the way her shoulders tightened and her tone shifted to the sickly sweet one he only heard when she was fed up; the last time, his sister had been on the receiving end.
Kirin leaned forward to brush his lips against her temple, pretending he’d done it a million and one times. He glanced past her after a second to find Violet watching them, her hand still in Rose’s grip.
Hurt and uncertainty flashed through her eyes as she dropped Rose’s hand.
The look on her face clearly indicated betrayal, as though dating Rose—even when he’d been nothing but clear that he wasn’t interested in her—was a deep personal affront.
Violet stepped back, uncertainty clear on her face when Rose leaned into him, her body molding itself to his, and he tightened his arm around her.