Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 88212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“You’re Dax,” he says.
“The one and only.” I fill up my beer. “But you have an advantage on me. Who are you?”
He grins. “Luis. Nice to meet you.”
You can tell he knows exactly how attractive he is. He gives me a flirty smile, making it pretty clear what’s on his mind for tonight. “Well, Luis, do you want to dance?”
“I’d love to.”
I keep my beer in hand, and Luis and I make it to the dance floor. He’s a good dancer, moves sexily against me, but I can tell he’s trying to be respectful. He’s hot and funny, talking while we dance and I drink, but my gaze keeps getting pulled to Miles. Even though he’s not looking at me, I feel like it’s on purpose, out of spite.
Why do you hate me?
Maybe the bigger question should be, why do I care?
“Let’s get out of here,” I say in Luis’s ear. When I try to take another drink, I realize my cup’s empty again.
“I’d really like that, but I think maybe you had a little too much tonight.”
Shit. He’s probably right. Why did I have that last cup of beer? “Rain check?” I ask because I wouldn’t mind getting dicked down by Luis.
“Sure. I’ll see you around campus, Dax Armstrong. Thanks for the dance.”
“You’re very welcome.”
“You need someone to help you home?”
“Nah, I’m good. My buddies are here.”
Luis says goodbye, and I find a bathroom to take the world’s longest piss.
The guys are still partying away, but my stomach is shot. I made a bad decision with that last beer, and I’m regretting my life choices right about now.
I head outside, pulling a breath of fresh air into my lungs, which helps. I shoot off a quick text to my brothers, letting them know I’m walking back to the frat house, then shove my phone into my pocket, and maybe…just a little bit…stumble down the stairs. This isn’t like me. I enjoy having a good time, but I did have more to drink than I usually do.
It’s after midnight, and it’s dark and so quiet. When I hear a sound behind me, I still, but I don’t hear it again. “I’m trippin’,” I say to myself, hurrying along toward the frat, my head spinning more than I’d like it to be. Fuuuuuck. I better not puke. I haven’t drunk so much I puked since freshman year.
As I’m stepping off the curb, my foot twists and I stumble, feet getting tangled together just before I hit the pavement. This is…embarrassing.
A hand wraps around my biceps, steadying me. I look up, expecting to see one of my frat brothers about to give me shit, but it’s Miles Tanner’s steel-blue eyes meeting mine. God, maybe he’s a walking warning sign, but he has really pretty eyes, and why the fuck am I fixated on his eyes?
I’m surprised when he pulls me to my feet.
“Are you going to blame me for trying to trip you again?” I ask snarkily.
“I’m trying to help. You literally just fell.”
He is, in fact, right, but I don’t know why he would want to help me when he clearly hates me. “But you saved the day. My hero.” My tone drips with sarcasm. Again, I’m being an ass, but can he really blame me?
“You know what? Fine. Whatever. Stumble your way home, then.” There’s a weird look in his eyes, Miles’s gaze darting away, not meeting mine. He’s not great at eye contact on a good day, but it’s worse now.
“Hey, listen.”
“Fuck off,” he says, and there he is, the Miles I know. He’s the one who is an asshole to me, not the guy who tries to help me. Why the fuck did he help me up, and what is he doing out here?
I figure he’s gonna bolt, but without so much as asking, he takes my arm, drapes it around his shoulders, and starts pulling me with him.
“Kinky,” I tease, but he ignores me, and while his gesture seems a bit dramatic, the more we walk, the more I realize it’s probably the only thing keeping me from falling.
We don’t speak as we continue down the street. Hell, I’m not even sure what to say to him, but it’s not long before we’ve reached Alpha Theta Mu, where he leads me up the front porch steps before pulling my arm off him.
“Key?” he asks, and I fetch it from my pocket, handing it over. He unlocks the door and starts to move toward me.
“You gonna escort me to my room?” I ask, genuinely curious how far he plans to take this, which is maybe a little weird since he wanted to take my head off last week, but I’m drunk, and giving him shit is fun.
His eyes flare. “No, I…just wanted to make sure you got inside,” he rushes out before handing me back my key.