I’M FEELING extra protective over Carolina tonight. I glare at every motherfucker who dares to look in her direction, enthralled with that damn dress she’s wearing. I can’t blame them. I about swallowed my tongue the moment I saw her in it. All glittery white with plenty of skin on display, that little smile on her face. Her long legs appearing even longer thanks to the sparkling gold heels on her feet.
She’s gained weight over the last couple of months. She’s not on that rigorous training schedule any longer and she’s eating more, which I’d like to take credit for. She was monitoring every calorie that went into her mouth, and I get that she had to be strict when she was dancing, but still.
Carolina took it a little too far.
As we slow dance together, I let my gaze drift, checking out everyone in the room with us. I’m still suspicious of everyone on campus, wondering who the hell was spying on us that day in the hallway. When I had Carolina almost naked and panting on her bed, asking me to fuck her.
Only for everything to be ruined by that loud crashing sound. Had it been some random accidental fall? Or was someone actually watching us that afternoon? I don’t know, and I did some investigating, but no one would talk.
Not like I could give them all the details, so I wasn’t talking either. I asked a few leading questions that lead to further questions but when I didn’t want to answer them, I bowed out.
And let it be.
I spot Mercedes dancing with some asshole who I don’t like that’s in our grade and her gaze catches mine, her lips curving into a knowing smile. I look away, not wanting her to think anything of it and I squeeze my arms around Carolina’s slender waist, wishing I could take her someplace else. Anywhere else but here.
Huh. Who says I can’t?
The song is almost over when I whisper, “Want to get out of here?”
She lifts her head, a little frown on her face. “Where do you want to go?”
“Back to your room?” I decide to tease her. “I’ll make sure and shut and lock the door this time.”
Her brows draw together in concern. “I still wonder who was there.”
“I’m guessing no one.” I say this to make her—and myself—feel better. “Maybe we were just hearing things. Or it was the wind.”
“Sure.” She sounds doubtful and I decide to change the subject.
The song ends, another fast one coming on and I grab hold of Carolina’s hand, dragging her through the crowd until we’re outside once more, standing at the top of the steps.
“Ready to go? Or do you want to hang out a little while longer?” I ask her.
“Oh, there’s Sadie and Brent.” She points to where they’re standing. “Let’s talk to them a few minutes and then we can leave.”
“I’m going to grab another beer. I’ll be right back.” I kiss her cheek.
“Okay. Hurry back.” She lets go of my hand and heads toward where Brent and Sadie are standing, talking with a small group of students.
I make my way back into the building, heading straight for the bar when Mercedes appears directly in front of me, stopping me in my tracks.
“What do you want?” I ask, already bored.
Her dark eyes flashing, Mercedes reaches out, poking me in the chest. “I know what you’re up to. And if I were you, I’d watch out.”
More empty threats from a girl who wishes she could boss all of us around. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, but leave me alone, Mercedes. You know how I feel.”
“I do know how you feel,” she starts, an irritated noise escaping her when I step around her and make my way toward the bar. “I know everything, you stupid ass. And I can ruin you if I so choose.”
Please. She wishes. “I’m real scared.”
“You should be.” She stops right next to me as I wait in line for my turn at the bar, messing around on her phone until she brings up a video, hits play and thrusts the screen in front of my face.
It’s of Carolina’s room, and there’s no sound. It’s from that afternoon, the two of us together, me on top of her, undoing the buttons on her shirt as we kiss. Fuck, I can see our tongues, I can see Carolina’s bra, the way she trembles when I reach for the front of it and flick it open—
“Turn that off,” I bite out, trying to steal the phone from Mercedes, but she’s too quick. She thrusts it behind her back, taking a step away from me. “Where the fuck did you get that?”
“I’m resourceful,” is all she says, smiling prettily. “Just—watch what you do and say, West. This can all come back to bite you in the ass someday.”
I blink at her, shocked that she’s not trying to purposely blackmail me.
Yet.
“Oh, and nice technique with the nipple sucking.” She takes a step closer, her voice lowering so, somehow, no one else can hear. “Kind of got me hot, not going to lie.”
She’s gone before I can say anything, and I glance around, wondering if anyone noticed what she said. Or what she showed me.
But everyone else in this place is partying without a care in the world. No one is paying attention to me, or to Mercedes.
By the time it’s my turn at the bar, the kid who’s working it hands over a can of beer with a woeful expression on his face. “Watch out for her.”
“Who?” And who is this asshole to warn me?
“That chick. Mercedes. She’s fucking crazy. Gives a great blow job but a complete psycho.”
“Give me another beer,” I demand and he does what I ask with no hesitation. “And don’t worry. That bitch can’t touch me.”
I leave him, pushing my way through the crowd, anger rushing through my veins, leaving me hot. By the time I find Carolina laughing with Brent and Sadie, I’m fucking furious, chugging the first beer before I toss the empty in a nearby garbage can and crack open the next one.
“Don’t you think you should slow down?” That’s the first thing Carolina says to me, and it’s fucking irritating as shit.
“I’m fine.” I swallow half of it, my head spinning. “Ready to go?”
“You okay, man?” This comes from Brent, who’s watching me with concern.
“I’m fucking great,” I snap, taking Carolina’s arm. “Let’s go.”
She leaves with me, quiet for most of the walk back to her building, her expression completely unreadable. I nurse the rest of the beer in the can, tossing it in a bush when she enters the code and the door unlocks.
“Why isn’t that implemented during the day?” I ask when we enter the building.
“I don’t know. No one’s complained before,” she tosses over her shoulder.
Damn it, she sounds pissed.
“Well, maybe you should. This is some bullshit, Carolina. Someone was lurking around in the hall and fucking spying on us. They need to lock the doors.”
A sigh leaves her. “I’m trying not to make any waves.”
“Make any waves? Someone was watching us and we were practically naked. Yet you don’t want to be a troublemaker or whatever? You fucking own this school.” I make a dismissive noise, my steps faltering. Shit, I practically trip over my own feet.
“You’re drunk.”
She’s right. I am. “So?”
“So, this conversation is pointless.” She stops right in front of the closed door of her suite, turning to face me. God, she’s beautiful and I’m ruining the entire night by becoming a sloppy drunk and not telling this girl that I care about the truth.
That Mercedes is the one who was hanging out in the hallway. Who fucking recorded us and will most likely put us on blast somehow so everyone can see us together. It’s disgusting, what she’s done.
I hate her.
“You won’t remember it in the morning. Maybe you should go back to your dorm room,” Carolina suggests before she turns toward her door and hits the keypad, gaining entry into her room. “Go sleep it off, Weston.”
Ooh, busting out the full name. I’m seriously in trouble. “You’re really kicking me out?”
I follow her inside the room, pulling the door shut and twisting the lock into place.
Never going to make that mistake again.
“I think it’s probably best.” She turns to face me, that haughty, gorgeous expression on her face. The one that tells me she’s mad. Annoyed.
I can’t blame her. Mercedes ruined my fucking mood and I took it out on Carolina, which isn’t fair.
“I’m sorry.” I run a hand through my hair before I reach up and undo the bowtie around my neck that is suddenly strangling me. I tear it off, tossing it on the nearby desk, then start unbuttoning my shirt.
Her hungry gaze tracks my every movement, giving me hope I can rectify this situation. “For what?”
“For getting drunk and being shitty.” I tug the too long shirt out of my trousers, frustrated. “You look so fucking beautiful in that dress and all I could think about was getting you back here and seeing what you were wearing underneath the white sparkles.”
She goes still, blinking at me. “And that what … made you mad?”
I shrug, not wanting to explain myself. “Feeling a little frustrated, not gonna lie.”
Her expression softens and she takes a couple of steps toward me, her gaze roaming over my now exposed chest. “You’re probably too drunk.”
“Too drunk for what?” I squint at her, my head spinning a little. I had a lot to drink, and yeah, I’m probably too drunk for whatever she’s suggesting.
“For us having sex,” she says, her voice small.
Okay, yeah, no. I’m not too drunk for that.
“You want to have sex?”
Carolina nods.
“With me?”
She rolls her eyes, her lips curling into the faintest smile. “Okay, you’re definitely too drunk for this.”
“No, no way. I wanna do it. I’ve been thinking about nothing else since you arrived on campus. You drove me wild, you know. With those snotty looks on your face and the way you would get so pissy with me. Fuck, it was a turn-on.”
Her eyes widen in surprise. “You’re lying.”
“Hell no.” I shake my head. “You drive me out of my mind, woman. All I can think about is how I can get you alone again. Get my mouth on you. Make you come. When you’ll put your mouth on me again. You’ve got a great mouth, Carolina.” I reach out to touch it, drifting my thumb across her lower lip.
She doesn’t move but parts her lips for my thumb, and when I sink it in between her lips, she bites it, her teeth sharp enough to sting. “And you’re super drunk, Weston.”
“You only bring out the full name when you’re mad at me. Like my mom.”
The last person I want to think about. She called me earlier today to tell me the news.
My father isn’t feeling well, and she thinks it’s the cancer. He denies it to her, but he’s thinner. Moving slower. He stops midsentence and forgets what he was talking about and his appetite has all but disappeared.
“I’m afraid it’s back,” she whispered to me over the phone, the fear evident in her voice. “But I’m scared to say something.”
That’s some shit. I don’t want a relationship like that. With secrets and lies and fear. Yet here I am, keeping the biggest secret that’s currently torturing me.
Wait, make that two secrets. My dad dying and that damn video Mercedes showed me.
Shit.
“Sorry. You probably don’t want me to remind you of your mom,” Carolina says, barely able to contain that beautiful smile that wants to spread across her equally beautiful face.
I go to her, catching her face in my hands, so I can stare at her. I let my gaze rove over her every feature, listing them in my mind. I remember when I thought she was a little funny looking. All bony and fierce. Now I look at her and see nothing but beauty.
See nothing but the girl I’m falling for.
Fuck, I’m going to ruin everything by doing this.
“Don’t let me hurt you, okay?” She frowns, and I give her face a slight shake. “Just—prepare yourself for what I’m going to do.”
“What are you going to do, Weston?” she asks, her voice a breathy whisper.
“I’m going to fuck everything up.” I kiss her before she can respond, stealing her words, not wanting to hear what she has to say. What excuses she might make or how she thinks it’s a bad idea if we do whatever she thinks we should be doing. I should’ve kept my mouth shut. It was a bad move, making her aware that there was some shit on the horizon and she needs to prepare.
Like we’re waiting for a hurricane or whatever. She needs to batten down the hatches and make sure everything’s secure before the tornado roars through and destroys everything.
I’m the tornado here. The hurricane. A natural disaster, it doesn’t matter which one.
“What are you talking about?” she asks when I end the kiss to shrug out of my suit jacket.
I remember the look on her face when she first saw me in my costume. How happy she looked. How fucking beautiful she was.
Still is.
“Don’t worry about it,” I mutter just as I grab her and haul her into me, my hands on her face once more as I devour her mouth. The kiss is frantic. Fucking feral. I search her mouth with my tongue, letting one hand drop to her ass, so I can give it a squeeze, and she rips herself out of my grasp, backing away from me, her breathing heavy.
“You’re acting strange.” She wipes at her mouth with the back of her hand, her lips red from my savage kiss. Her skin blotchy and pink because she’s so turned on. We stand next to each other and all I can think about is how can I get her naked.
I know she feels the same way.
“You’re right.” I undo the cufflinks on my wrists, letting them drop onto the floor before I practically rip my shirt off. “I might be a little drunk. But not too drunk for you.”
She’s backing away from me as I stalk toward her, my hands at my waist, fingers fumbling with the belt buckle. “West, please. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Nothing’s wrong.” I undo the buckle, tackling the button and zipper of my trousers, the weight of the belt still around my hips, causing the front of my pants to hang open, my erection straining. “I want you, baby. Can’t you tell.”
Without warning, she grabs hold of me and practically tosses me on the bed. My confused drunk ass goes willingly, falling onto the mattress with a grunt, rolling over on my back to find her glaring down at me as she stands by the side of the bed, her hands on her hips, her face an angry mask.
“You are way too drunk to function right now, Weston Fontaine.” She gestures toward me, her long, elegant fingers flicking. “You need to go to sleep.”
“Come on.” I hold my arms out to her. “Lay with me.”
“No way.” She shakes her head. “I’m taking a shower and I fully expect you to be asleep when I’m done.”
“I’m not tired.” My eyelids fall to half-mast.
“You look like you’re falling asleep right now.”
“Nope.” My eyes are fully shut, but I’m still in denial. “I messed everything up, didn’t I?”
The mattress shifts when she sits on the edge of the bed, her fingers drifting along my arm. “Yeah. I feel like something is bothering you, but you don’t want to share it with me.”
She’s coming way too close to the truth. “You don’t want to know.”
“But I do.”
We’re quiet for a moment, and I swear if I concentrate enough, I can hear the party still raging on outside, the bass of the music thumping. The sounds of girls screaming, having a good time.
“I can’t tell you.” I sound miserable. I feel even worse. “It’s family shit. You won’t care anyway.”
I don’t mean what I say. I’m just pissed. At life. And all the curve-balls that are constantly thrown at me.
“When it has to do with you, I will always care,” she whispers and those words make me feel even shittier.
We don’t say anything else to each other. Eventually, she rises from the bed and goes about the room, gathering her things. I shut my eyes as tight as I can, and roll over on my side, facing the wall, my back to her. She enters the bathroom and shuts the door firmly.
The last thing I remember is hearing the water turn on before I drift off to sleep.
