Page 19 of Changing Lanes

“I can’t promise he’ll be good to you.” She kicks the rocks beneath the bench with her toes as she swings her feet.

“Well, I don’t want to date your father. So, if you’ll have me, we’ll face the rest as it comes.” Leaning in, I pause just before I kiss her.

“You make me happy.” Torrie tangles her fingers in my hair, pulling my lips to hers.

The weeks before mid-terms are some of the best of my life. Torrie is simply amazing, and the sex is mind-blowing.

Torrie’s father is becoming suspicious. We discussed me going home with her for Thanksgiving, but we still need to work out the logistics.

“Hey, have you made any decision on Thanksgiving?” Torrie asks. She’s laying with her head on my chest, running her fingers across the grooves and planes of my muscles.

“As long as we can work out spending a few days with Mom, I’m down. I told you, I’m with you.” I’ve never been away on a holiday, so going home must happen. Mom would never tell me to not go with Torrie, but I also know she wouldn’t tell me to not come home.

“I’ll let my mother know. We also need to get plane tickets, although my parents’ may make the jet available,” she says offhandedly.

“Your parents’ have a jet?” I know my eyes are bugging outta my head because when she looks up at me, she starts laughing.

“Yes, but with my father, who knows what will happen.” She shrugs.

“Let’s get tickets from New York to Myrtle Beach, that way we can leave when we need to,” I suggest as I grab the laptop from the nightstand. She pops up and sits on her knees, watching as I search online for ticket pricing.

“Sounds good,” she agrees. A few clicks later and Thanksgiving is set. Now, she needs to tell her father.

Halloween costumes have been our biggest trial to date. Why must it be so difficult to pick out? It needs to be epic, this much I know. We have scoured the internet, looking at every plausible couple we could come up with. After days of deliberation, we finally settled on something I think we both like.

“Do I have to wear the wig?” I glare at her as she giggles.

“Yes. It makes the entire costume.” She nudges me, and I roll my eyes, tugging the stupid blond wig on.

“Seriously? You fucking owe me.” I shake my head.

We dressed for the party at her place because there is no way in hell I’m gonna walk the campus wearing this stupid wig. It’s bad enough I’m wearing a polyester pantsuit with a scarf. I look fuckin’ ridiculous. Torrie, on the other hand, is adorable in her seventies swing dress and red wig with matching headband. Torrie drives to her friend’s apartment, as we step from the elevator I get a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. Things have been going so well for us, I’m not sure if this is nerves or an actual premonition of something to come. Taking my hand, Torrie gets my attention. “Brannon, it’s just a Halloween party! It’s all in good fun,” she assures me. One look into her eyes and all fearful thoughts are gone.

As we walk the room, she introduces me to the rest of her friends and acquaintances. “Hi, Torrie.” A small brunette waves from the corner of the room.

“Hello, Robyn. How are you?” Torrie asks as the brunette stands in front of us. “This is my boyfriend, Brannon O’Hurley.”

“I’m good. Hi, Brannon. It’s so nice to meet you,” Robyn says as she takes my waiting hand.

“You too.” I smile as a taller, bald man walks up behind her. She looks over her shoulder and then makes her own introduction.

“Brannon, this is David. David this is Torrie’s Brannon.” He holds his hand out for me.

“Hey, good to meet you,” David offers.

“You, too. Torrie has told me so much about you both.” I smile with my lie.

“We need to do dinner, Torrie’s been hiding you away,” Robyn says.

“We will, text me next week,” Torrie says as Christine enters the room. “Christine.” She walks over, hugging Torrie hello.

“Hey, handsome,” Christine says to me with a wink.

“Hey, good to see you.” I smile at her, and she winks again. She’s been Torrie’s friend since they met on campus and has been her lab partner for two years. I like her.

“How about you two catch up, I’ll get us some drinks,” I suggest. Torrie grins as I walk over to the bar. Over by the window, a man and woman watch my every move. He’s small with beady eyes and blond hair. She’s also a blonde, petite.

The couple slowly works their way around the room. Stopping to press flesh with only a few party-goers. As I watch their approach, I can’t help but feel as if I’m the prey. They stalk me with cunning precision, waiting for the kill.