The thud of music reaches us a block away. The hall is off-campus but close enough to walk from my apartment. The night’s gotten colder. I can feel the chill on my face, so I look at Blesk to make sure she isn’t shivering.
She smiles at me.
Cheeks pink with warmth.
By the time we arrive, the lads are already well into it—a few of them visibly pre-partied, which probably means they started around lunch. I’m not one to talk. I have a flask in my jacket right now. Blesk knows this and hasn’t said a word about it. My drinking habits are usually something girls like to poke at, but Blesk doesn’t.
We move through the crowd, fingers threaded together. The room smells like a typical party. Cologne and perfume fighting with alcohol and body sweat.
The first sign of trouble hits me square in the face.
Pemberton.
She scowls at us from across the hall with a look that would crush most men into tiny pieces. She’s wearing a red halter dress that hugs every curve, the neckline plunging, slit cutting to the seam of her underwear. She looks hot. But Blesk is hotter—curvier, softer, with an endearing kind of energy that Pemberton has never managed and never will.
“Why the hell is she even here?” I mutter.
Blesk frowns. “Because she’s in love with you, Konnor. And she knew you would be here.”
I splutter on a laugh. “She doesn’t love me. She hates me. I was an accessory.”
She rolls her eyes.Sassy Blesk; I like Sassy Blesk.“Sometimes girls don’t know how to show you that. She does. I can tell. Be nice to her, please.”
I want to tell Blesk about all the horrible things Pemberton said about her—but I want more than anything for her to smile, so I never will. Even if it makes me the bad guy.
“Alright, I’ll be nice, Duch,” I say, running my knuckles down her pink cheek.
She blinks at me. "Boys just don't get girls.”
I shrug. “You should just say what you mean for once.”
“We literally do, and boys don’t listen.”
“Sorry, what was that? I wasn’t listening.”
She giggles at me.
I plan on listening, is all I can think of now. I plan onhearingyou, Duch.
We meet the lads at the back and the night rolls by easily. Blesk laughs at something Jax says, and I watch his whole posture peacock, shoulders back, chest forwards, suddenly considering himself funnier than he is.Fucker.
She makes people feel good. She does that without trying. She doesn’t even seem to notice she’s doing it. She is just… soft. Warm…
Fuck, I’m in trouble.
I swig on my bourbon.
She hasn’t moved far from me all night. Every time someone pulls her into a new conversation, she drifts back after a few minutes, her shoulder finding the same spot pressed to mine. Her wine glass is still mostly full. She sips it as if she’s driving or something… I watch her fingers on the stem, nursing it. I stare. They talk.
Stop staring, Slater.
“—so I said to him, mate, that’s not even— Are you listening, Slater!”
I blink. “What?”
Jax is frowning at me. “You’re doing that phasing out thing.” He glances sideways at Blesk, then back at me, and his face splits into a grin to hide the annoyance. I know he’s still pissed at me. “Alright, fair enough. She’s beautiful. Still. Embarrassing, mate.”
“Get fucked.” I playfully shove him.