I never ran late, but I was tonight. It was nerves, most likely. They’d been slowing me down. My hands were trembling a little. My feet felt like they weighed a thousand pounds. But I’d managed to put on a little mascara without stabbing myself in the eye, so I was calling it a win.
I checked my phone as I walked out of my room into the living area. Two minutes. Jeez, I never cut it this close.
“I don’t like your boyfriend.”
Stopping in my tracks, I stared at my suitemate, Elena. Blonde, tan, thin, and so beautiful I could weep. She fit in at Savage U. The day she showed up to claim the third room in our suite, I’d been braced for the worst—my roommates freshman year had been the worst. Elena Sanderson was sharp tongued, sarcastic, somewhat narcissistic, and a little unhinged, but she’d aimed all that outward. To me, she’d never been anything but funny, and I would even say kind.
“What?” I shoved my phone in my purse. I didn’t have time for a conversation, but I was frozen on my spot.
Elena was spread out on a love seat, books, papers, and laptop around her. She nodded and flicked her fingers in my direction. “Your boyfriend. He’s absolutely wretched. You’re so pretty, and you’re rushing around, frantic not to be late for a date with him. It makes me sad. One, because a man should always wait on his woman, and two, because he’s not good enough for you.”
“That’s…I don’t know what to say.”
She shrugged. “Helen thinks it too. She won’t say it because she doesn’t want to hurt your feelings.”
My eyes widened. “You’ve been talking about me?”
“No. I don’t have to. It’s extremely obvious.”
“It is?”
Helen Ortega was one of the most honest, up-front, real girls I’d ever met, but not in the brutal way Elena was. She was a stunningly beautiful, skateboarding badass who had always had a soft spot for me, but especially since her troubles spilled over onto me a few months ago. After my hostage crisis, she’d been a little extra careful with me.
So, if she didn’t like the guy I was sort of seeing, it wouldn’t surprise me she hadn’t said anything. Leave it to Elena to bring the truth.
“What are you doing, Zadie?” Elena pushed aside her laptop to stand in front of me, her hands on her hips. I was miniature, and she was tall and lithe, so I had to tilt my head back to look at her.
“I’m just…he’s not really my boyfriend.”
She rolled her eyes. “Thank Prada for small miracles. But I mean, why are you spending time with him? You can do so much better, girl.”
I wasn’t so sure about that, but if I said that out loud, she’d get angry with me.
“He’s funny, and…I don’t know, it’s nice to go out and do things. I spent all last semester in this suite. It’s time to shake things up.”
Her hands squeezed my shoulders. “I’ll take you out. There’s really no need for you to go out with him. If it’s about getting laid, I’m sorry I’m not available for that service, but I’m certain I can find you someone who is.”
I would have laughed if my phone hadn’t vibrated in my purse. “I’m sorry, I have to go. He’s waiting.” She didn’t remove her hands, so I was stuck. “I need to go, El.”
She stared at me for a long beat before releasing me. “Go. But if he lays an unwelcome finger on you, do not hesitate to kick him in the dick and call me to finish the job.”
The lead finally lightening in my feet, I raced to the elevator and then through the lobby, bursting out of my dorm. Nerves still writhed like worms in my stomach, and only worsened as I approached the car. The passenger door swung open. As soon as I slipped inside and closed it, the car pulled away from the curb.
“Hi,” I said softly.
Elliott, the guy I’d been seeing for the last couple weeks, drummed impatient fingers on the steering wheel. A muscle in his square jaw ticced before he relaxed.
“You owe me an apology.”
I sucked in a breath. “Okay. Um…I’m sorry I was running late. My roommate started talking to me and—”
“I’d appreciate it if next time you send me a text if you’re not going to be where you promised you would be.” He glanced over at me, sweeping his sharp brown eyes over me from head to toe. “You look nice.”
“Thank you, Elliott. You do too.”
He reached across the console to place his hand on my leg. He didn’t go too high, but he curled his fingers around my inner thigh in a way that said he had every right to do so. And I guessed since I’d never stopped him, he probably thought he did.
Elliott Schiffer wasn’t a very nice guy, but he was persistent in his interest in me. We’d shared a class last semester, and since then, he’d doggedly tried to catch my eye. I didn’t quite understand it, but since I also didn’t date, I had always politely, but firmly, turned down his invitations to join him for a meal or to attend a party.
Things changed recently, and when Elliott once again asked me to have lunch with him in the dining hall, I’d relented. Over the past two weeks, we’d done that four or five times. We’d gone to a movie, studied together in my suite, watched Netflix in his. It hadn’t all been unpleasant, but under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t have gone on more than one or two dates with Elliott before—again, politely but firmly—extracting myself from the situation.
My circumstances were anything but normal lately. I was a boat without sails, floating around to find anything that would lead me to safe harbor.
Elliott wasn’t really a safe harbor, but I was hoping he would be that something that took me there.
“I was surprised you wanted to go to this party.” He squeezed my thigh. “It doesn’t seem like your scene. Things can get…out of hand. You still have time to change your mind.”
I smiled at him, which he caught in his periphery. “No, I want to go. I feel like all I do is study. I haven’t been to even one big college party.” I placed my hand over his. “Besides, I’ll be with you, so I know I’ll be fine.”
“You know I’ll take care of you, Zadie.” His hand slipped an inch up my thigh. “You need someone to take care of you. You’re too sweet to be out in the world on your own. I knew that from the first time I saw you.”
I hated what he was saying, but it wasn’t exactly untrue. Not that I was too sweet, but that I needed someone.
I laughed. “The first time you saw me, I was almost in tears from being yelled at by Dr. Marino. God, that guy…”
Elliott didn’t laugh. “He’s a fucking prick. I should have reported him for how he treated you.”
On the first day of class last semester, our sociology professor had been running late. He’d burst into the classroom and knocked me splat on the ground. His coffee had spilled everywhere—thankfully not on me—and he had been pissed. Somehow, his ire had been directed at me, even though I was the injured party. I’d held in my tears, but, man, it had been a close one.
“Fortunately, I survived and will never have to take a class taught by him again.”
“Fuck him,” Elliott muttered under his breath.
“Yeah.” Pressing my legs together, I shifted to the side, ensuring my skirt didn’t ride up too high. “Let’s not talk about that. I’d love to forget it. Tell me about the party. What should I expect?”
Elliott liked to feel important, and this was just the thing to give him that. He spent the rest of the drive rubbing my thigh and telling me about the past parties he’d been to. This one was at a warehouse on the opposite side of Savage River to Savage U. As we got closer, driving down the quaint main street and past the massive Savage River High School, light seemed to be sucked from the atmosphere. The roads became less smooth, the buildings dirty and some dilapidated, and then we were in a more industrial area on the very outskirts I’d never had cause to go to.
Elliott parked in a no-parking zone along a crumbling curb. Since this wasn’t my first time in his car, I knew to wait for him to round to my side and open the door for me. He got insulted if I let myself out.
He held my hand as we walked to the entrance of the warehouse, keeping me close to his side. My knees were shaking, so I was grateful to have his support, even though I didn’t love how proprietary he was with me.
I became even more grateful when we entered the warehouse. It wasn’t packed, but there were people scattered all over in the vast, dimly lit space. From the scattered furniture, it looked like someone—or a few someones—lived here.
Elliott leaned down and pressed his mouth to my hair. “Don’t worry, Zadie. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“You won’t leave me?”
He peered at me. His gaze wasn’t warm, but it was possessive. “I’ll have to for a little bit, but I’ll find someone for you to stay with. Let’s get drinks and not think about things like that.”
The bar was actually just a folding table covered in myriad liquor bottles and stacks of red Solo cups with a keg standing beside it. Since the last thing I wanted to do was get wasted, this was more than enough for me. Elliott studied his choices while I grabbed a cup and went to the keg, determined to figure out how it worked.
I stood there, fingering the hose, tracing my nail over the valve, fairly certain I would be able to fill my cup with beer, especially considering these things were used by drunken frat bros. If they could do it, so could I.
Except the hose was swiped out of my hand, followed by my cup. “I’ll do that for you, Zadie.” Elliott pressed a kiss to the side of my head. “You know I would never allow you to pour your own drink.”
When he handed me the halfway-filled red cup, my lips curved in what I hoped was a gracious smile. “Thank you so much, Elliott. What a gentleman.” Then I pushed out a giggle for good measure.
That seemed to please him. He cupped the back of my head and dragged me into his chest. His half-mast erection dug into my hip, and he made no effort to pull away.
“I’m not always a gentleman, baby,” he cooed.
“Oh.” So far, Elliott had been gentlemanly to an extreme. His chivalry almost felt like a weapon, forcing me into a box marked ‘my little woman.’ This move, this heavy flirtation, was unprecedented. I didn’t know what to say.
He tucked my curls behind my ear. “You’re so sweet when you blush.” Then he tapped my cup. “Drink, but don’t get sloppy, okay? I don’t like when girls get plastered. It’s not a good look.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that, but he didn’t need it. He saw someone he knew and tugged me along with him.
As Elliott spoke to his friends, I scanned the warehouse. Music vibrated the air, filling the massive space. Groups and couples were scattered around, but the center seemed to be reserved for dancing. There was a pool table and a foosball table. Both were being used. Most held cups, many were passing joints. The scene wasn’t as debaucherous as I’d imagined, but the night was young.
Elliott squeezed my hip. “I need to go take care of a couple things. Are you good for me to leave you here with Shawn and Robbie?” He nodded to his suitemates, who I’d met once before.
“I’m fine. Take your time. I’m enjoying people watching,” I replied.
He touched his lips to my temple. “Stay here, Zadie. Don’t talk to anyone. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
He waited until I nodded in agreement, then he disappeared through the throngs of people. Shawn and Robbie didn’t seem to be interested in me, so I sipped my lukewarm beer and wandered away from them a little. I didn’t go far, because I didn’t want to deal with Elliott being angry that I hadn’t listened.
My heart stopped then thrashed when I spotted him. My pulse fluttered madly in my throat. Even from half a football field away and all these months since we’d been in close proximity, Amir made me nervous.
This was his brother’s party. Of course he was here. I’d known he probably would be when I overheard Elliott mention it, but nothing could have prepared me for my reaction to him and the probability he would see me too. If there had been a chair close, I would have fallen into it. My knees were so wobbly, and my stomach lurched like a boat in a storm.
Amir wasn’t drinking. He wasn’t smoking. Leaning against a steel support beam, his arms folded over his chest, he gave the appearance of being relaxed, but I didn’t think he was. He made slow sweeps of the space, turning his head from one side to the other, even as a girl draped herself on his shoulder. He pulled her closer, his hand on her plump backside. She spoke to him, and he replied, but he remained watchful. Vigilant.
Goose bumps puckered my skin at the memory of his eyes on me. The feel of him taking me in, peering at me so intently, as if he could see all the way to my core. No one had ever looked at me that way before. Or since. I wasn’t sure I had even liked it, but I would never forget it.
I hoped he hadn’t forgotten either, because he was the reason I was at this party tonight. My plan had worked perfectly up until this point.
I didn’t know how I was going to do it, but before the party faded, I was going to have Amir Vasquez’s attention.
