The rest of my senior year flew by. I slowly adjusted to not having my parents around, but it was hard. Sadly, what they say is true. Life does go on all around you, whether you want it to or not.
I’m trying to take it day by day. Some are better than others because I have this constant empty ache inside me, but I keep going. Phillip’s and Danny’s families have been awesome though, and I haven’t ever felt completely alone, like I was so afraid I would.
Before I knew it, I was a high school graduate, and then I was down in Lincoln and officially a college girl!
Choosing my college was pretty much a no-brainer. It has a beautiful campus, outstanding academics, and, well, the football team. I mean, I couldn’t imagine myself at another school, going to a game and cheering for their team. Especially now that Danny is the starting quarterback. Phillip is here, too, so that made the choice even easier.
I’m living in a dorm with a pretty cool roommate. At least, she seems that way so far. We went through rush together, and even though we pledged different sororities, we are getting along well. We have similar backgrounds, having both grown up in small towns. We like boys and clothes, and—thank God—she hates mornings almost as much as I do.
Oh, and news flash: I’ve started going by my real name, Jadyn, instead of JJ. I think it sounds much more mature.
Phillip blew out his knee while playing basketball this past summer and isn’t going to walk on as originally planned. He’s okay with not playing football anymore. He went through rush and ended up pledging the same fraternity that our dads were in. Our dads always had great, wild stories about their time here, and I’m sure we only heard the watered-down, tame versions of most of them.
Tonight, I’m going to experience a wild fraternity party firsthand.
At least, I hope it’s wild!
Phillip’s frat is hosting a party tonight, and apparently, most fraternity parties have some kind of theme. Some of the themed parties they’re hosting this year are Secs and Execs (everyone dresses up as business people), Get Lei-d (obviously a Hawaiian party), Heaven and Hell (where’s Mary Beth Parker when you need her?), Around the World (which has something to do with drinking a different shot in every room of the frat house), and, of course, the timeless favorite, Toga.
This one is called Frosh Frenzy.
All week, Phillip has been forced to interview freshman girls. I say forced because the pledges have to, but it’s not like Phillip minds. Interviewing is a great excuse to start talking to a cute girl. He has this little notebook, and he has to fill out a sheet on each girl he interviews. They’re kind of like the slam books that we had in ninth grade. The pledge asks each girl a variety of questions. Innocent things like name, hometown, high school activities. And what they call vital statistics, like cup size, height, weight, hair color, phone number. And then personal information, like what you like in a guy, your idea of a great first date, how far you will let a guy go on the first date—things like that. This part varies and tends to border on the risqué.
The interview process is supposedly a time-honored tradition. I remember Dad telling me that he met Mom when he interviewed her, but I always thought maybe he’d worked on the school newspaper or something.
Now, I understand, and, quite frankly, I really wish I knew what she’d said because my dad was a total catch.
Phillip told me the interviewing process helps the pledges get to know their fellow classmates. I very sarcastically pointed out to him that, if they really were trying to get to know their fellow classmates, they would interview a few fellows. But he just laughed at me.
Of course, all freshman girls, me included, are intrigued by the fraternity system and eager to answer the questions.
Especially from adorable Phillip.
And he is adorable. I mean, Phillip has always been a very cute boy, but he seems to be getting even better-looking, the older he gets. He’s leapfrogged the line separating cute from hot and has landed deeply into hot territory. I swear, if he keeps this up, I might just have to keep him for myself.
Anyway, I’ve had to endure sitting by him in the Student Center while he does his interviews. I hope I never gush like that over a boy. And some of the answers these girls give? I’m sort of embarrassed by them, and I don’t embarrass easily! Sometimes, an active will see a girl he thinks is hot and specifically tell the pledge to interview her. The active writes his initials at the bottom of the page, which lets everyone know that he saw her first.
And they say girls play games!
The party is a meet-and-greet party. Only interviewed freshman girls are invited. It’s held under the guise that they are trying to make their pledges more social, but I really think it’s so the older guys can hit on the young, naive freshman girls.
As we walk down to the frat house, Phillip is telling me a whole bunch of rules he thinks I need to follow for the evening.
I swear, you’d think he was my father!
I’m half-listening and half-thinking about the cute guy I met in Chemistry class today. Somehow, I need to get him to be my lab partner. That would make Chemistry 101 a lot more interesting!
I hear Phillip saying, “Don’t go upstairs with anyone. Don’t go on any so-called tours of the frat house. Don’t drink anything that you didn’t pour yourself. Never leave your drink out of sight. Check in with me every half hour.”
I’m bored by Phillip’s rules, and my mind wanders back to Chemistry Boy. I wonder if we get to pick our lab partners or if they’re assigned. Maybe by alphabetical order. Shoot, I think when I realize I still don’t even know the cutie’s name.
“Are you listening to me?” I hear Phillip ask.
“Uh, of course.” Now, what did he just say? “You told me about checking in with you. I’m listening,” I lie. “Please, go on.”
So, he does.
On and on and on.
“No getting drunk. No table dancing.”
Like I’d ever do that!
“Don’t get into a game of Quarters.”
Well, maybe that …
“Be wary of the upperclassmen.”
No way!
“Stick by me …”
Boring!
I thought, at college, you were supposed to abandon all rules. At least the ones you had to follow in high school. My mind wanders back to Chemistry Boy again.
I can’t help it!
Maybe we can choose our chemistry partners based on chemistry. Get it? Of course, I’m not sure if we have chemistry because all I did was smile at the boy, but he did smile back. It’s a good start. Now, I just need to find out his name and then—
“Ah!” I scream.
Phillip has stopped walking and stepped directly in front of me. I awaken from my daydream to collide and then nearly fall over the top of him.
“What are you doing?” I yell at him as he grabs my shoulders to stop me from falling and taking us both down.
God, he is strong. When I finally marry my prince, I hope he has strong arms like Phillip’s. Oh, and great abs, too. I wonder if many princes come to school here. Now, that would be something useful to put in the student directory and be a good recruiting tool, I would think.
Phillip is talking loudly to me.
“What are you thinking about, and why are you spacing out? This is important stuff.” He sighs big at me.
“I appreciate that, Phillip.”
He’s still holding my shoulders and totally in my face. I’m half-tempted to kiss him just to throw him off guard, but he’d probably get mad at me, and I don’t need that right now, so I don’t.
“But, you know, I’m not exactly the best rule-follower. Why don’t you just pick the most important one, and I’ll do my best?” I say with a wave of my hand.
He lets go of me, gives me that eye, and says, “Fine. You’re leaving with me.” He pauses for effect. “Have you got that?”
I nod my head.
“Repeat it,” he bosses.
Being the smart-ass that I am, I raise my right hand up, like I’m taking an oath in a courtroom, and say, “I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. I will leave the party with you.”
“Continue.”
I sigh. The boy knows me too well. “Even if there is a cute boy I would rather leave with.” Thinking of a possible loophole, I say, “Hey, Phillip, what happens if I don’t want to leave the frat house? Depending on how it goes, maybe I’ll want to stay.”
Phillip is getting irritated with me; I can tell. I kind of like seeing him a little irritated, and, fortunately, I seem to be able to irritate him easily. He is usually so reserved.
Shoot!
I just realized that I am also very dumb because I really should have kept that loophole to myself. I might need it later.
That’s the problem with my mouth. Sometimes, it talks before my brain can think.
“God, do I need to get a lawyer just to get you to agree to something? Here it is. JJ, you are leaving with me when I am ready to leave. Got it?”
“Yeah, I got it.”
Jeez, he’s my knight in shining armor whether I want him to be or not.
Phillip and I walk into the frat house and are greeted by two pledges. They are sitting at a table in front of the door and matching girls with their pledge interviews. One of the boys takes a Polaroid picture—I didn’t even know those cameras still existed!—of each girl and writes her name on it with a permanent marker. I get my picture taken, and we head into the party. We grab a beer and stand off to the edge of the party room, chatting and taking it all in.
I keep catching a guy staring at me from across the room. Of course, being the terrible flirt that I am, I forget all of Phillip’s rules and bat my eyes at the guy. I watch as another guy hands him one of those permanent markers.
What? Is he signing autographs later?
Across the way, I recognize two girls from my History class. A group of us have been whiling away the boring lectures by writing notes to each other about what kind of nasty things we’d like to do to the hot grad assistant. Due to my lack of experience in this area, I can easily say that I’m learning way more than expected in History class.
I glance back at the cute guy. Maybe it’s time I get some of that experience.
“Don’t look now, Phillip,” I order, “but who’s the guy over there in the green polo shirt?”
“Why do you care?” Phillip suspiciously asks me in his snotty little boy voice. I swear, sometimes, I think he’s twelve.
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “He keeps looking over here. I’m just wondering who he is.”
Phillip does as he was told and waits a minute.
At least the boy can follow directions.
“Do you think he’s cute?” he asks before he looks.
“No, not really,” I lie.
Phillip rolls his eyes at me, glances over toward the green polo, and, says, “Ah.” He nods his head up and down and frowns. “That is Matt Fuller. He’s a senior and our Pledge Advisor.” He looks at me with squinty eyes and tries to read my mind. “He specifically asked me to interview you.”
“Really?” I smile way too big because, now, he totally knows I was lying about the cute part. “When? I’m pretty sure I’d remember him.” I quizzically look at Phillip.
“I don’t remember exactly, but I think he saw me giving you a piggyback ride across campus.” Phillip shakes his head at me. “I really don’t know why I let you get away with the stuff that you do.”
“Because I’m irresistible, Phillip.” I smile and shrug my shoulders. “You can’t help yourself. Besides, you didn’t go across campus. You only went about fifty feet before you pretended to have a heart attack from supporting my weight and collapsed on top of me in the grass.”
“Oh, yeah. I remember. I think you’ve gained some weight.”
I slug him in the shoulder.
He ignores it and continues, “Come to think of it, I think that’s when Matt saw you.” He gives me a big grin. Like he just now remembered it. “You probably didn’t notice him because you were too busy rolling around on the grass with me.”
“I’m pretty sure I was trying to get you off me.”
“Well, it must’ve not looked that way to Matt because he asked if you were my girlfriend.”
“Oh God. What story did you make up this time, Phillip?”
He smirks. “Oh, I just told him that, even though you’re madly in love with me, I don’t want to be tied down, so we’re just friends. Of course, what I should’ve said was, Please, just take her. She’s more trouble than she’s worth.”
I give Phillip the finger.
Then, I turn my back on him and stare over at Matt. I’m intrigued and excited by the fact that he wanted me interviewed. That means, he’s at least somewhat interested. Matt is really hot. I’m guessing him to be about six-two, and he’s built like an athlete. In good shape but not too big. He has thick, wavy brown hair, and I’m not sure if it’s his authoritative stance or the crispness of his polo, but he looks like he grew up with a rich daddy. I can picture him driving a little BMW to the club for golf and tennis. He could probably be in an ad for the company that made his shirt. He would look right at home, standing in the backyard of a big summer house on the ocean, playing croquet and holding a martini.
Not my typical rough-around-the-edges guy. But, hey, I’m at college to experience new things, right?
Phillip, who has apparently been successful at reading my mind again, says, “I really don’t think you want any part of that, Princess. He has a playboy reputation, and the rumors of his sexual prowess are practically of legendary proportions. All the pledges are in awe of him—or at least of the stories about him.”
“Everyone? Even you, Phillip?”
Phillip just shakes his head at me.
I frustrate that boy, I think.
I smile though because I like what I’m hearing about this Matt. Hopefully, it’s not all hype. Maybe there is a bad boy under all that polish!
Phillip frowns. “Unfortunately, I think he has you in his sights. So, be careful, or better yet, just try to avoid him.”
“Phillip, I am not going to avoid him.” I glance up to see Matt looking my way again. This time, I catch his eye. I hold his stare for a second, smiling, until he looks away, seemingly embarrassed.
Some playboy.
He is cute though.
What the hell?
He probably made up his own reputation just to impress the pledges.
I think what the hell has become my personal mantra. I might have T-shirts made up soon.
“Okay. Then, at least stop giving him those eyes. You’re making me sick.”
I ignore Phillip’s eye comment. “I’m sure the rumors are exaggerated, and besides, he’s probably not that interested in me anyway. I bet he asked for lots of freshmen to be interviewed. Plus, he doesn’t look like my type …”
“What? He’s not an idiot?” Phillip interrupts, taking a cheap shot at my taste in guys.
I frown at him, put my hand on my hip, and flash a little attitude. “You know what? Just for fun, I’ll bet you five bucks that I can make him come over here now and talk to me.”
We’ll test out some of my newly discovered powers of male-persuasion.
“Really? And just how are you gonna do that?”
Like I can’t.
Let’s see … I have already smiled and given him the eye. Apparently, Katie and Lisa have taught me well. Next step, make him worry that my availability is questionable.
I face Phillip and lean my body close to his. Really, I pretty much just press the whole front of my body up against the front of his. I should probably mention that Phillip has an excellent body to be pressing up against.
“Well, Phillip,” I whisper slowly into his ear, “I’m just going to whisper in your ear.”
“And rub up the front of me, too?” he whispers back. “I think I’m liking this plan.”
“No, I’m not going to do that. I’m simply getting very close to you, telling you, I don’t know, something very private.”
“Are you talking dirty to me?” He laughs and wraps his arms around me. That mind-reading thing comes in handy sometimes because he totally understands my ruse.
“Yes, I am! So, grin like you like what I’m saying.”
“Why don’t you kiss my neck while you’re there, just for good measure?”
“Good idea. You don’t mind my using you, do you, Phillip?” I ask as I put my lips onto his neck up by his ear.
I hear his breath catch.
I don’t think he minds.
His neck smells really good. I love the way Phillip smells. All manly and musky and quite yummy. For a minute, I almost forget about that Matt guy.
“Not at all,” Phillip purrs. “Although, if it doesn’t work really fast, I might be forced to drag you back to the dorm and have my way with you.”
I admit, I think it would be fun to let Phillip have his way with me, but we’re just friends, and we don’t want to ruin that, so yeah.
I laugh and start to say, “Phil—” when he interrupts me.
“You’re good,” Phillip says, surprised. “Here he comes.”
“Liar.” I don’t even turn around because I’m sure he’s teasing me. It couldn’t have worked that fast.
But it must have because, instead of answering me, Phillip switches me into one arm, leans around me, and shakes Matt’s hand. I turn around and am face-to-face with a Greek god.
He is even better-looking up close. Because, up close, I can see he has these amazing emerald-green eyes and a sexy five o’clock shadow.
“Matt Fuller,” Phillip says, introducing me, “this is my friend Jadyn Reynolds.”
Matt holds out his hand to shake mine.
I put my hand in his. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Matt shakes my hand and then lowers his hand to his side without letting mine go.
In fact, I don’t think he has any intention of letting it go.
What is this boy up to?
He gazes at me with those smoldering green eyes and quickly gets rid of Phillip. “Hey, Phillip, why don’t you go get some beers? The lady’s empty.” He clinks my empty bottle with his full one.
“Uh, sure,” Phillip says. He knows he is being dismissed, so when he gets behind Matt’s back, he gives me a look that says, Remember the rules.
I look at Matt and then down at my hand. “So, do I get my hand back?”
“I don’t think so,” he says, oozing sex appeal out of every pore.
Now, I would have thought this kind of bold move would turn me off a guy, but it seems to be having the opposite effect. I’m kind of impressed. It’s goofy, but this is something I could see myself doing to make an impression.
“So, I’ll just have to stay here all night, huh?” I say innocently but knowing the sentence has major innuendo.
“Well, at least until you get to know me properly,” he replies and blinks lazily.
“Oh, great,” I say, rolling my eyes in mock boredom. “Next, you’ll ask me my major.”
“No, I already know. Engineering.”
Mr. Smarty Pants, huh?
“Well, either you read my interview or you are psychic.”
“Guilty.”
Not only is he still holding my hand, but also, he is totally invading my personal space. It’s making me slightly crazy. I’m having a very hard time trying not to look at his mouth. I fear, if I keep looking at it, I might do something rash, like just start kissing it. I am also fighting a growing impulse to rub my cheek up against all that stubble on his face.
“I did read your interview. In fact, you might be interested to know that this fraternity house was built in 1957. It has some very interesting architectural details.”
Oh, really? Let me guess … you want to give me a tour?
“You know, I’ve heard about this house practically my whole life. Phillip’s dad and my dad belonged to this fraternity and lived here.”
“Well, in that case, I bet you would love a tour.” His gaze is predatory.
Now, I do remember hearing that rule. No tours. I’m looking around for Phillip, hoping he’ll return with my beer. I’d really like to have something to keep my mouth occupied.
“Maybe later,” I say politely, not completely refusing. “So, this interview stuff, seems to me it’s just a way for you guys to get the inside scoop on the new crop. Let me guess; tomorrow night, you will sit around a fire and score the girls?”
He has an expression of surprise on his face that leads me to believe that is exactly what they will do.
“Who told you that?” he whispers, leaning in closer to me.
I can feel his warm breath on my neck, and I can smell him. He smells different from Phillip—more like soap, but still nice.
“You really do that?” I laugh in disbelief, yet I can totally picture it. It is so very much something boys would do. I’m on a roll now, so I take another stab in the dark. “And the scores, are they based on looks or how, um, friendly the girls are?”
“You’re not supposed to know about this,” he whispers in my ear again.
I really don’t think it’s a big secret. I think he’s just trying to get to me.
It’s working.
“I’d say we rank the girls on their ability to make friends,” he states like a not-so-truthful politician.
“So, hypothetically, let’s say I kiss you tonight, what kind of ranking would I get?” I flirt.
“One star.”
I give him an insulted look, and then I try to make my face look sexy.
“What if I’m really good at it?”
“Still only one star,” he responds, like, Sorry.
“I see. So, what if I were to, say, strip naked and dance on a table?”
He grins. “Although that is something I would very much enjoy seeing, I’m afraid it would net you no stars. It’s kind of like the difference between a spectator sport and a contact sport.”
Ah, I get it.
“So, are you going to kiss me?”
“No,” I respond, shaking my head like it is the furthest thing from my mind.
I am so lying because it’s right up there at the top. All I can think about really.
“Well, how are you going to earn any stars? You strike me as a competitive girl.”
Oh, I am such a tease.
“I didn’t say I wasn’t going to kiss anyone.”
“Ah,” he says, holding his chest, “break my heart.”
Yeah, I’m sure.
“Actually, I’m joking. I doubt I’ll kiss anyone tonight.”
“What? Surely, you don’t want to be the only girl here without a star to her name?”
He thinks this comment is like a dare to me. That I will be dying to get a kiss, so I can be like everyone else. I somehow doubt every girl here will get kissed tonight, but obviously, he has yet to figure me out ’cause that sounds like a challenge to me.
“You know, I think that is exactly what I’d like to be.”
“So, do you always get exactly what you want?”
Uh, no, not really, but I think my luck is changing.
Matt is grinning at me like I’m the new Christmas toy he really wanted but can’t play with yet because he hasn’t read the instructions.
“If I have anything to say about it, yeah, I guess I usually do,” I answer truthfully.
I’m feeling a little full of myself tonight, and I’m having fun.
And it’s true. If I want it and I can do something to make it happen, I usually will.
Jerk boys who date sluts and car accidents are things I just can’t control. Mr. Diamond has been telling me that over and over.
“Only deal with what you can control, JJ.”
“So, let me guess,” he says, finally releasing my hand and pretending to hold an interview sheet to the side of his head like a psychic. “Ah, yes, I have it. Prom queen, cheerleader, dated the quarterback, voted Prettiest Eyes. Am I close?”
“One, you already told me you read my interview. And two, those things weren’t even on there.”
“So, humor me.”
“Eh, fifty-fifty.” I hold my hand out flat and tilt it back and forth. “No to prom queen, hell no to cheerleader, yes to the quarterback,” I say with a roll of my eyes and then a pointed look. “But Jake turned out to be an asshole. And, yes,” I say, batting my eyelashes, “to the eyes.”
Matt leans into me, pushes my long bangs out of the way, and gazes straight into my eyes. “Yeah, total bedroom eyes.”
I try not to get flustered, but this guy is kind of unnerving me.
Okay, really unnerving me.
So, I go back to being a smart-ass, hoping to defuse this time bomb standing next to me.
“How about you? Have you already picked your victims for tonight?” I lower my voice and whisper huskily, “I heard you’re practically a legend around here.”
He shrugs and looks slightly embarrassed.
Figures. If I were a guy, he’d be entertaining me with stories about past victims, but since I’m a girl, the predator has turned into Mr. Shy and Innocent.
“So, is there a record for the number of stars given out by one guy?” I say, changing the subject. But then I think and add, “Please don’t say my dad.”
He chuckles. “Well, there are two records actually.” He looks around, like he’s about to give me top-secret information and then whispers meaningless names, numbers, and dates into my ear.
“And your personal best?”
“You ask a lot of questions.” He squints at me in irritation.
I decide to make him a bit more uncomfortable. I stand closer to him and gently poke my finger on his chest. “Hey, you’re the one who wanted me to get to know you.”
He looks me in the eyes, trying to stall, but finally says, “It’s private.”
“Okay, so now, you’ve got me curious.”
He shrugs.
“Fine. I’ll just have to take a guess.”
“Hmm.” I lick my lips and then put my finger to my mouth and rub my bottom lip, supposedly thinking. Really, I just want him to look at my mouth. “Practically legendary status but no records.” I lean into him and whisper a wild guess into his ear.
I can tell immediately that I nailed it or came pretty darn close. The instant shocked look on his face is a dead giveaway.
My, my.
“Seems like we both tend to get what we want.”
I can’t help but smirk at him. He is fun to tease.
He is embarrassed and obviously doesn’t want to talk about it.
I look around and see that Phillip is kissing a girl with bouncy brown hair. Jeez, when did the boy learn to work so fast? Maybe this fraternity thing will be good for him. I mean, I’m very impressed.
I’m also half-tempted to go check in with him right now, just to make a point, but I don’t.
He should have some fun.
“So, how am I going to get a kiss from you,” he whines, “if you won’t kiss anyone?”
“Look, I promise, pinkie swear,” I say, holding up my pinkie, “I owe you a kiss.”
“You know, I haven’t quite figured out if I should attack you or go into business with you,” he says as he grabs my pinkie with his.
I grin at that.
He laughs, and for the first time, I see a wonderful, genuine smile on his face. I like it.
“Come to my room,” he says in a silky voice. “I have some really good tequila. We’ll do a quick shot or two.”
Sure we will, and what else will we do?
I am contemplating my next move when a really great song starts playing. “Come on, dance with me first.” I pull his arm toward the dance floor.
He stands firm, pulls me back, and says, “I don’t dance until I’ve had a minimum of two shots. Sorry, it’s a rule.”
“Well, rules were meant to be broken.”
But he shakes his head.
So, I take a different approach and purr innocently, “You mean, you can’t wrap your arms around me”—I gently run my fingers down the sides of his arms—“put your body close to mine and sway slowly”—I smile, close my eyes, and sway slightly in front of him—“until you’ve had two shots?”
“It’s not a slow song,” he says, but he is weakening; I can tell.
“Close enough,” I reply and drag him out there.
We dance slowly to the fast music, and he takes full advantage of the closeness by letting his hands do a lot of roaming.
I don’t mind it though. There’s something about him that I really like. He’s, like, challenging. This isn’t your typical brainless, stupid game-playing but more like a chess match.
Your move, my move, your move.
I actually have to think about this.
I find it intriguing, and let’s face it; most of the guys I’ve dated weren’t exactly brain surgeons. This mental sparring is very stimulating.
In many ways.
After a few songs, I excuse myself to use the restroom and run some lip gloss across my lips. When I get back out, I don’t see Matt anywhere. Maybe I scared him away. I’m half-hoping that’s the case.
I reach down and grab a beer from a cooler on the floor next to me. Just as I stand back up, I realize Matt has snuck up on me and is standing very close to my side.
I laugh and shake my head at his persistence. “Don’t you have somewhere you need to be?”
“Yeah,” he whispers in my ear and holds his mouth there.
“Where?”
“In you.” His voice is low and silky.
I didn’t realize two simple words could sound so damn sexy.
But then my eyes get big at that comment when I realize what he meant.
Whew, is it hot in here all of a sudden?
I think I might be speechless.
That never happens.
I know.
I know what you’re thinking. I am, too.
It’s a total line.
But I have to admit, it’s given me goose bumps and made my stomach flutter. Plus, I love having my ear whispered into. Something so hot about that.
I recover from the blatantly suggestive comment, back up, and nod my head in appraisal. “A quick and a dirty mind. I like that.”
He swings around to face me, very much invading my personal space again, and pins me up against the wall.
“So, am I ever gonna get this kiss you promised me?” He’s practically begging.
“Jeez, you are so obsessed with a stupid kiss.” I roll my eyes at him. “Can’t you just relax?”
He doesn’t say anything, just looks at me with smoldering eyes. Eyes that leave me no doubt what the answer to the question is.
It’s no.
Unequivocally, no. He can’t.
Sweet!
“Fine,” I say diplomatically as I reach into his pocket to retrieve the marker.
He is looking both surprised and happy at where my hand is but then looks disappointed when I pull out the marker and hold it in front of him. I make a grand gesture of taking the lid off. I grab his hand, write IOU A on his palm, and then bring my mouth down to his hand.
I am being so bad; I almost shock myself.
I close my eyes and slowly press my lips into his palm.
I swear, I think I hear him groan.
Ha! Who knew practicing kissing your hand would ever pay off?
I open my eyes, look at him through lidded eyes, and hold his gaze for a few seconds. I assess the pink kiss mark on his hand and then very unceremoniously drop it. “There. You have it in writing. I owe you. Now, how about that shot?”
Yes, I do go to his room. Breaking one of Phillip’s rules.
But what the hell, right?
His room is decorated like a typical guy. Crap tossed most everywhere. He walks over to a mini fridge and pulls out a chilled bottle of some supposedly expensive tequila and a lime. He grabs two shot glasses, salt, and a knife, and here we go.
In preparation for the shot, he quarters a lime, pours the shots, and hands me the salt. Just as I’m about to lick my hand, Matt grabs it and slowly runs his tongue across it, all while staring straight into my eyes.
Wow.
He is so hot.
And his intentions are so clear.
He pours some salt on my hand and quickly does his own. We clink the glasses and down our first shot.
I’m wondering, Does he always have this stuff lying around, or was it purchased just for tonight?
The good news is, I saw him break the seal on the tequila, so I don’t have to worry about anything getting put into my drink.
We do another shot after he toasts to IOUs, and somehow, I persuade him to go back out to dance.
See? I escaped his room without harm. I’ll have to tell Phillip that his rules are stupid.
Or not. I would probably get a lecture on how lucky I was this time.
It’s getting a little late, and the music has slowed down. We dance some more, very close.
I’m feeling the tequila, and dancing close to him like this is starting to drive me nuts.
Time for that kiss, I think.
“So, are you planning on collecting that IOU tonight or some other night?”
He thinks I want him to ask me out on a date.
“Uh, some other night?”
“Wrong answer. Try again.”
This time, he answers with a wide, sexy smile. “Tonight.” He nods. “Definitely tonight.”
“Good. We’re getting out of here though. If we’re not in the frat house, the kiss can’t go on my record. Right?” I give him my best bedroom eyes, trying to convince him, although I think he’d agree to just about anything at this point.
He nods at me, and I drag him out the front door. We’re barely out the door when he pushes me up against the wall and tries to kiss me. I quickly put my hand up to his mouth to stop him.
He looks at me with frustration. I grab the IOU and hold it up to his face.
“I owe you, remember? Not the other way around. Why don’t you relax and let me kiss you?”
I pull him around the side of the house. Behind some bushes.
Tacky, I know, but, hey, they are there.
I intently gaze at him. He follows my gaze down to the front of his polo, which I unbutton. I start the IOU by spreading his shirt open and kissing the upper part of his chest. Next, I move up to his neck, all very slowly and very deliberately. Eventually, I work my way up to his mouth.
I’m fairly sure I’ve paid my IOU in full.
And I enjoyed it. A lot.
I leave the party later—much later—but with Phillip, as planned.
After a few dates with Matt, whether or not I would ever lose my virginity was no longer an issue. It happened after three dates, and then we were pretty much inseparable. I was convinced that, just like my mom, I had met the love of my life as a freshman. Matt treated me well and had almost earned Phillip’s and Danny’s stamp of approval. But, when we got back from Christmas break, he informed me that he had sort of gotten engaged to a girl from home.
Sort of meaning, I gave her a ring, she planned the wedding, she bought a dress, and she booked the church for June.
I have to admit, I was crushed. I really thought he was the one. That’s also when Phillip decided to tell me he always knew Matt was too slick to be trusted. I asked Phillip to please give me an honest opinion of the next guy at the beginning of the relationship, otherwise to keep his big mouth shut with the I told you so when it ended.
However, looking back, I’m now convinced there should be a university-wide mandate—just like the one that says that freshmen should live on campus, so they can experience the social aspects of college properly—that freshman girls should not date one guy exclusively.
Because, if you liken the boys available to date at your high school to a meal, then you’d be choosing that meal from a half-filled vending machine.
But, at college, choosing a boy to date is like choosing a meal from the biggest, most incredible all-you-can-eat buffet ever imagined.
And there will be no dieting for me!
Hmm, let’s see … I think I’ll start with a couple of frat pledges, the buff wrestler in Sociology class, and the more mature but totally hot History grad assistant. Then, maybe one of those football players—that hottie who always seems to be on the treadmill next to me when I work out. Maybe I’ll even have some of that cute photographer.
College is so awesome!
It’s really too bad they try to ruin it with classes!
