I sidestep to get closer to Jane and away from Archer’s teammates. I shouldn’t be here. There are things she doesn’t know, things no one knows, and my being here could fuck all that up.
But I couldn’t not come. Not after she said she invited the entire campus.
She looks so excited, eyes lit up, lips pulled into a huge smile. She wears her emotions on her face and her heart on her sleeve. I dig that about her. Most girls her age want to play it cool, but not Jane. But it also makes me feel like a complete asshole. I should just go. I stopped by and scoped things out, and now I can leave with a free conscience.
“When did you get here? How was the game? Did your brother’s team win?” She glances at my empty hands. “Do you want something to drink?”
One of her friends chuckles softly. “Maybe let him actually answer a question before you ask him three more.”
“Sorry. I’m just so happy you came.”
As she comes to stand beside me, that familiar mix of vanilla and coconut hits me, and I have to resist leaning in to get a better whiff.
Jane is gorgeous. Tall, sexy long legs, a pouty mouth, and bright green eyes. If things were different, I’d be into her.
“Thanks for inviting me,” I say. “I can’t—”
Before I can make my excuses, some guy who has crowded around with the football guys yells, “Somebody get the Champ a drink.”
I wince at his use of my old nickname. The last time anyone called me that is about the last time I was at a college party.
“The Champ?” Jane shoots me a questioning gaze.
The beer pong game in front of us starts back up and her friends pretend to stop staring at us.
Because I don’t want to answer that question, I answer her others. “Not long. The game was good. They won. And I’m not drinking tonight,” I tell her.
She continues to eye me carefully, then purses her lips. “Hmmm. Well, that makes my job as your fun tour guide a little more difficult, but not impossible.”
Brogan, standing nearby, makes a deep noise of humor in his throat. “Don’t let this serious and broody thing he has going on fool you. Henny knows how to have fun. Remember that time you threw that epic party at the house during senior week?”
I, in fact, don’t remember much about it, but I also don’t want him to tell that story in front of Jane, so I give him a pained smile and return my attention to the girl at my side. She’s still staring at me like she can’t quite figure me out.
“I can’t stay long, but I wanted to stop by.”
“You’re leaving already?!” She shakes her head adamantly. “Oh no. Now that you’re here, there is no way I’m letting you go.”
With that, Jane takes me by the hand and pulls me over to the table. “Can we get in on this?”
I start to remind her I’m not drinking, but, for some reason I don’t. I see her around, but I don’t know that much about her that isn’t a Google string. And the more she talks to me, the more I want to know. Fuck it, it’s better than standing around feeling out of place.
“Hell yeah!” Felix moves over to make room. “You can have mine and Dahlia’s spots. Need to talk to my girl.”
“And by talk, you mean make out where everyone can see?” Jane asks.
“You know it, Hannah.” Felix winks at her.
She rolls her eyes as we take over their side of the table.
“Hannah?” I ask. How many names does this girl have?
“It’s nothing,” she says. “Are you any good at beer pong?”
“Once upon a time, but probably not anymore.”
She picks up the ball from the table and holds it between her fingers. “I hope you’re being modest because I’m terrible and I really don’t like beer. You’re going to need to carry us to victory, Champ.”
The nickname doesn’t annoy me so much when she says it.
My brother grins at me from the opposite end of the table. “How long has it been?”
A long fucking time. “Not so long I can’t kick your ass.”
Brogan snorts and elbows Arch. “Think we can pull a shut out?”
“Ooooh.” Arch sucks in air through pursed lips. “I don’t know. I might be too sober to throw a perfect game.”
“Are we going to do this or what?” I ask, breaking up their banter.
“So eager to lose,” Brogan says under his breath with a chuckle. He lifts a hand toward us in a sign to go ahead. “Age before beauty.”
Jane laughs along lightly. “I guess that means we’re up.”
“I guess so,” I grumble.
Both Jane’s and my first throws miss, and then the beating begins. Arch and Brogan sink five balls before missing. Apparently while I was gone, these two learned a few more skills in the art of partying. The cups on the table are filled with cheap, lukewarm beer. Jane manages to empty one and I take the other four. Being here is a bad idea and drinking is an even worse one. At least it’s watered-down shit. I could drink all the cups and probably not have a buzz.
She shoots me an apologetic grimace. “I told you I was terrible.”
“One bad throw doesn’t make you terrible.”
She cocks her head to the side. “We need a way to distract them. Any ideas?”
“The only things that distract those two from winning are women and booze.”
“Well, I don’t think booze is going to do it in this case.” Her eyes twinkle with mischief. “Women it is.”
She starts to take off the baggy black sweater she’s wearing. “I knew I should have worn a dress.”
I feel my brows lift. “What are you doing?”
Once the sweater is over her head, she pushes it toward me. “Hold this.”
I do, and watch as she adjusts the thin tank top that was underneath. It’s white with tiny little straps and so short it leaves several inches of bare skin above the top of her jeans. It’s too cold outside to wear so little clothing, made obvious by her hard nipples poking through the thin material, but the air around me suddenly feels hot.
“How’s this?” she asks.
“Distracting,” I answer honestly as I try to pull my gaze away.
“Good.” She flashes a satisfied smile. “I’ll distract on defense, and you play offense.”
I’m still staring at her when she steps up to the table, attention focused on the game. Though you wouldn’t know it. She moves her hips, dancing and quietly singing along with the music. If I didn’t know she was performing with a purpose, I’d never guess it. She’s electric.
My brother is putty in her hands when she goes around the table and pulls him into dancing with her.
“No distracting my teammate,” Brogan says, but she wins him over just as easily.
Then it’s just me playing. “I’m gonna take your turn,” I say to Jane.
“Sure, that’s fine,” she calls, and Archer and Brogan are too busy to understand what’s happening.
I sink both balls. All they do is pick up the cups and drink while they continue to dance. They don’t have a care in the world. I miss that feeling.
They sandwich her, Brogan behind her and Archer in front. My brother looks happy. I’m glad for that. Arch didn’t always have the easiest time fitting in after his hearing loss. Kids were assholes about it, and I know he felt self-conscious, no matter how much he tried not to show it. When I went off to college, he’d mostly adjusted. The hearing aids help, he learned to lip read and navigate social situations, and stopped worrying so much about what other people thought.
I think Brogan is to thank for a lot of that, too. He has this way of making life easier for him while never making Arch feel like he’s being coddled. Anyway, it’s nice to see this side of my brother. He’s out partying and having fun like any other guy his age. And his friends and teammates seem to have his back. It’s one small stress off my shoulders.
Jane is part of that. I’ve only seen her interact with him a little, but I know she’s another person that has made his life better, and I could never tell her how thankful I am.
She catches my gaze for a quick second, sending me a sultry smile before she resumes her distraction tactics.
The three of them are all smiles, flirting and having fun. I’m not even convinced she remembers the purpose of the plan anymore. The way she looks at my brother, and the way he looks back at her, has my pulse ticking faster.
I toss another ball at their remaining full cups. This one bounces off the rim and toward Archer’s back. He doesn’t even notice as the ball keeps on going past him.
“Are we still playing or are we dancing?” I grit out loud enough Jane and Brogan can hear me, trying (and failing) not to sound like a grumpy fuck.
“Chiiiill.” Brogan is the first to pull away. He nudges Archer and motions with his head toward the table to pull him back to the game.
Reluctantly, my brother returns his focus to playing beer pong. He assesses the table like he’s remembering where we were, then looks up. “You should see your face. You’re awfully worked up over a game, Henny.”
His lips pull into a smug grin, and I hate the way he can see through me right now. Family is like that, always reading past the bullshit the rest of the world brushes off. He knows why I’m anxious to get back to playing the game. I’m surprised he doesn’t go back to dancing with Jane to make his point.
“The other ball bounced behind you,” I say instead of acknowledging his last comment.
He nods and turns to find the ball.
Jane takes her place by my side. She’s still wearing that flirty smile except now it’s aimed at me. “How’d I do?”
Cheeks pink, hair a little messy, body relaxed, voice breathy. Fuck me, I cannot be digging this girl. Not now. Not ever. And not because she and Archer might be into each other. At least not just for that reason.
“Great,” I say in a tone that is far too tight and clipped to sound like I mean it. Her smile dims slightly.
I glance away from her and get my shit together, then force myself to look back at her. She’s staring straight ahead and not at the asshole next to her (me). Reaching out, I circle her delicate wrist with my fingers. Her warm skin sends heat coursing through me. “Sorry. You did great. But I only sunk two out of three. They’re still ahead.”
“Two more than I would have gotten.” She still moves slightly to the beat. “Want me to go back over there?”
Definitely not. I shake my head slowly. “Nah. I have a better idea.”
Her eyes light up. “You do?”
I lean over and whisper the plan in her ear, all the while trying not to think too hard about the way my body reacts to having her so close or the way I’ve started to associate that coconut and vanilla scent with her.
“Really?” she asks as she pulls back. “That’ll work?”
“Oh yeah. Trust me.”
“I do.” Her voice softens on the two words, and I add ignoring the way her trust makes my stomach twist to the list of things I’m stopping myself from feeling.
