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“Ouch!”
My lips split in a wide smile.
“If my other hand was free . . .”
I knew exactly what he was thinking. “If you even consider for one second you think you can—ompf!” I gasped at the sudden extra hop in his step. “You asshole.”
“I think you do need a spanking.”
My mouth opened for a blistering response, but he’d reached his car and for some reason being spanked didn’t sound that bad. But he had to be teasing because there was no way he was going to put his hand on Cam’s little sister’s ass.
Jase dropped my bag and then opened the door. He moved his hand, and the rough calluses on his palms trailed along the back of my thighs. I shivered in spite of the heat, and mentally cursed my body’s reaction to him.
He reached up, gripping my hips. “You can let go of my shirt now.”
“Oh.” I released my grip.
His shoulders shook with a laugh, and then the front of my body slid down his. Air halted in my throat at the unexpected frisson. Awareness shimmered over certain parts in my body. My feet were on the pavement, but his hands lingered on my hips.
“There you go,” he said, his voice deeper than before as he dropped his hands. “You can climb in, right?”
Pushing the hair out of my face, I took a deep breath. “I’m not an invalid.”
“I didn’t say you were.”
“I can walk, you know, and climb into Jeeps.”
He picked up my bag, dropping it in the backseat. “I’m sure you can.”
When he raised an eyebrow, I realized that he was literally going to stand there until I got into the car. Sighing, I turned and climbed up. He flashed me a grin, closed the door, and then loped around the front.
He started the Jeep and warm air blasted out of the vents, stirring the hair around my face. His eyes were a clear, steely gray when they landed on me. “Okay. Why didn’t you want me to give you a ride?”
Seeing that all the humor had disappeared, I squirmed. “It’s not that I didn’t want you to give me a ride.”
“Really?” He reached up, unhooking his sunglasses from the visor. Sliding them up his nose, he settled back against his seat. Locks of hair fell forward, brushing the rim of the aviators.
Goodness gracious, he looked damn good in sunglasses.
Even though his eyes were shielded, there was no escaping his stare. No one looked at you like Jase Winstead did. It was like he was seeing right through me, layer by exposing layer. “Is it because of Saturday night? I was pretty inebriated. Shit, I don’t remember anything from the moment I stepped into your dorm.”
The back of my neck prickled. “Nothing?”
He shook his head. “So God only knows what I said and did, and I must’ve said something, because you didn’t want to get in this Jeep with me.”
Part of me wanted to punch him in the balls even though I knew beyond a doubt that he’d been drunk—drunk enough to have no recollection of telling me that I was a reason for why he’d visited Cam so much or our little interlude on the floor. It took a lot for me not to blast him over that, but what point would it serve? He’d been sloshed, and I had been the one who went out to meet him and then let him in my dorm. All this was temporary, and I couldn’t let this make an already crappy situation worse.
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You didn’t do or say anything to make me mad.”
He didn’t respond for a moment. “But I slept on your floor and you slept on the couch?”
“Yeah . . . uh, you sort of fell down and stayed there.” I shrugged a shoulder. “I fell asleep on the couch.”
“Nice.” He coughed out a short laugh. Several seconds passed, and I considered making a mad dash out of the car. “We’re friends, right?”
My heart sunk in spite of my convictions on the state of him and me. “Yes.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong, friends give friends rides, right?”
