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The football studs join us again a couple of minutes later with cups brimming with beer. I watch as women follow their movements, and it makes me proud that Connor is walking over to me. But he should feel privileged, too, because I’ve caught an equal number of men eyeing Hailey and me tonight.
We try to talk as the party rages around us, but it’s so loud that it’s hard to hear. We give up and dance for a while, letting the beat speak for us. Connor pulls me close, and I slither my body along his, taking advantage of the hard lines of his body. I turn my back to him, and he pulls me into his chest until I can barely move. I like the way it feels with no space between us. And I can tell he likes it, too, by the hard length of him pressing against my hip.
We reluctantly separate after another two songs and make our way to the edge of the room. Hailey and Ricky stay on the dance floor.
“I’m so hot,” I say, glad I pulled my hair off my neck tonight.
All these bodies packed into this space creates an inferno. I can feel the sweat trickling down the skin in between my boobs.
“Yeah, you are,” Connor agrees. His dark eyes are smoldering as he watches me. “Want to go upstairs and talk?”
I scoff out a laugh. That’s the oldest line in the book. From the look on his handsome face, the last thing Connor wants to do with me upstairs is talk.
We’ve been out to a few parties just like this one. And we’ve hooked up a time or two in the past, but we haven’t slept together. I get the sense that he’s eager to change that tonight, but I don’t think I’m there yet. I’m not a prude, but I don’t bed surf with just anybody either. And I like Connor, but he’s obviously a playboy. I don’t know if I want to take things to the next level with him. I don’t think he’s earned this body yet.
I glance around at the chaos surrounding us. It resembles a scene from the movie Animal House.
“From the looks of the downstairs, I can only imagine what upstairs looks like,” I say.
He leans closer and takes my hand, ready to lead me up the staircase. “Let’s go find out.”
I shake my head. “I think I’m good here.”
I can tell that my answer makes him unhappy, but it’s not my job to put out for the football stud. I owe him nothing, especially something as precious as my flesh. Anytime I hook up with a guy, it’s on my terms. I won’t be guilted into it. And sleeping with the footballer for the first time at a wild frat party when God knows who has already been upstairs is not my idea of a good time. I’m not tipsy enough, for one. And it just doesn’t feel right. His attitude is turning me off.
“I’m gonna grab another drink,” I say instead, slipping my hand out of his grasp. He lets me go.
I walk back to the kitchen and grab a clean cup. I’m filling it with more of the punch when a familiar scent overtakes my senses. I know it’s Ollie before I look over. He presses his chest against the back of my shoulder.
“How many of those have you had?” he demands.
“Can you ever just relax and drop the Dad act?” I question rather than answer him, my gaze still focused on my hands.
“Yep,” he says without missing a beat. “How many?”
“This is my second,” I sigh, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow. “Is that okay with you?”
“It’s acceptable,” he murmurs in that obnoxious tone of his. “But be careful … that stuff is lethal.”
“Fun killer,” I mumble under my breath, but I know he heard me when his eyes narrow in warning.
We both step back from the table as another group comes to refill their drinks. I lean against the counter where it curves, and Ollie does the same. He’s standing close. The kitchen is crowded. He looks incredibly hot tonight, as usual.
“Where’s the brunette?” I ask before taking a sip of my punch.
His blue eyes are scanning the room as he answers, “No clue. She went to the bathroom, and I dipped out.” He pulls his attention to me. “And since you wouldn’t come to me, I followed you in here.”
I tilt my head and study his chiseled jawline. He really is too attractive for his own good. Ollie puts every other guy in this house to shame without even trying.
“I didn’t think you followed women anywhere. I thought they always followed you.”
He smirks. “They usually do. The only two who don’t listen to me—who never listen to me—are you and Oak.”
“We do it to drive you crazy,” I admit.
“Well … mission accomplished.”
There’s a pause as we continue to study each other. I’m in no rush to get back to the living room and Connor. There’s an ease between Ollie and me that I always find comforting, and I want to soak it in a little longer. It comes from knowing someone for years. I’ve spent nights at their house. I’ve spent time with Oakley at Ollie’s apartment. We understand each other in a way others don’t. There’s an easy intimacy between us. A familiarity.
