Lighter

by Gia Riley

  “Cara, did she eat any dinner?”

  “I don’t know. She went to the gym and then we came here. She didn’t go to the dining hall with me and Drew tonight.”

  “I’m going to kill, Caleb,” I announce through gritted teeth. Sophie’s body goes limp next to me. Laying her on her side in case she gets sick again, I tell Cara to find me a cold wash cloth. Sophie’s eyes roll back in her head briefly and I start to worry she may have alcohol poisoning.

  “Kipton.” She moans my name softly.

  “Sophie? Can you hear me?” I tap her cheek gently, trying to rouse her from her sleep. She opens her eyes and smiles innocently back at me.

  “Yeah. I hear you,” she whispers. “You make me stupid.”

  “You’re not stupid.” I gently brush her hair out of her eyes. She watches my lips for a few seconds as I speak to her before shifting her gaze to meet mine.

  “I want you to kiss me, but I threw up.” For the first time, her cheeks don’t turn pink while talking to me.

  I blow out a breath, not wanting to hurt her fragile drunken feelings. “Sophie, I can’t kiss you.”

  “That’s okay. I know I’m too ugly for a guy as hot as you are.” She looks sullen as she closes her eyes as if it physically pains her to look at me for another second.

  “You’re not ugly and that’s not why I won’t kiss you. I won’t because you’re drunk.”

  “Coach says I suck. I miss home. My mom would be so mad at me right now. I’m like him.” A tear escapes her eye and I gently brush it away before it falls down her flushed cheek.

  “You’re perfect, Sophie.”

  “You’re the hottest guy I’ve ever seen,” she mumbles.

  She’s definitely experiencing some hard-core liquid courage right now. Alcohol must be her truth serum. While I’d love to pump as much information out of her as possible while she’s lit, I won’t. I would rather earn her sober confessions. “I’m nothing special, Sophie.” It’s the truth.

  “I’m sleepy,” she says as her eyelashes flutter open and closed.

  I tuck her tiny frame under the covers and pull my comforter up to her chin. She snuggles down into my bed and gives up her fight, already breathing soundly. “Rest, Sophie.”

  When I stand up, Cara is watching me intently from the doorway. “I never thought I’d see the day, but you actually have a thing for her.”

  “Cara, stop. She’s your roommate. Don’t make this into more than it is.” I quickly change my shirt in case anything got on it while Sophie was getting sick. Cara’s still keeping an eye on me, waiting for me to confess, but I won’t.

  “I call bullshit Kippy, but whatever.” Thankfully she drops the subject quickly and lets me off the hook without one of her rounds of twenty questions.

  “Stay here with her in case she gets sick; I have to talk to Caleb.” He will learn to respect the girls that come into this house. Granted some girls do come here specifically looking for a hook-up, but there are girls similar to Sophie who haven’t been here before. There’s no way I’m risking anyone’s safety as long as I live under this roof.

  Cara eyes me suspiciously. We’re both relieved Sophie’s calmed down and resting peacefully, but she has something to say. She always does. “You know it’s okay to be into her, Kip. You don’t have to pretend with her. She’s the real deal.”

  “I don’t know anything about her, Cara, but I get the impression she might be. I’m sorry she got mixed up with the wrong guy tonight.” Cara nods her head and sits down on the worn recliner in the corner of my room. She starts messing with her phone, probably texting the library douche who is responsible for making her lose Sophie in the first place.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  “Take your time. I’m good and she’s okay. I think she got it all out of her system.”

  Bounding down the stairs, I find Caleb’s pathetic ass next to the keg trying to sweet talk two chicks, as usual. The only reason he stands next to it is to get first dibs on all the girls that walk into the house. It’s a jackass move and I’m pissed he pulled it with Sophie and my sister.

  He finishes filling up the blonde’s cup and notices me. “Dude, how was she? I should be pissed at you for getting some before me. Sexy little thing and probably fun to toss around in bed too, am I right?”

  It takes two seconds for my fist to connect with his jaw. He recoils from my punch, instantly grabbing his face in pain. “What the hell was that for, you asshole? You should be thanking me for doing your dirty work!”

  “Don’t you ever fucking treat her like a whore or pull that shit with anyone in this house again. You got me? She’s been upstairs barely conscious from all the shit you gave her.”

  He rubs his jaw and pierces me with his eyes. Go ahead and try me, Caleb. I’ll bring it ten times harder than you can handle.

  “Dude, I didn’t force her to drink anything. She willingly drank the shit. I can’t help this was her first party. So back the fuck off. How do you even know her anyway?”

  Her first party? Ever? This is news to me. “She’s my sister’s roommate. Not that I owe you any explanations.”

  “Oh, now it makes sense. You’ve already made a move. She’s all yours then dude. There’s plenty of pussy to go around. Sloppy seconds ain’t my style anyway.”

  I reach out and grab the collar of his preppy polo, pulling him within inches of my face. There’s no way he’s going to forget what I have to say again. “Caleb, you’ll learn to watch your damn mouth or I’ll throw your ass out of this house. Being on the team doesn’t mean you run the show. This is your last warning.” I let go of his shirt and forcefully push him against the wall. I’m done with his shit. He flips me off, but I let it go. His ego has been bruised enough for now.

  After a look around, the party appears to be winding down. I tell the two couples making out in the stairwell to take it elsewhere so I can get back upstairs. The house looks trashed, but the freshman will clean it in the morning. Those are days I do not miss.

  Inside my room, Sophie’s still passed out cold in my bed while Cara’s busy fixing her make-up in front of my mirror. “Going somewhere?” I ask quietly so I don’t wake Sophie.

  “Drew asked me to come back to the dorm to hang out. He’s on night shift and has to stay up so I offered to keep him company. That’s if you’re okay watching Sophie. I’ll stay if you want me too.”

  “No, it’s fine. Who is Drew? Your RA?”

  “Yeah.”

  I walk over and lean against my dresser while she finishes messing with her face. “You know he’s not allowed to date his residents.”

  “We aren’t dating, we’re hanging out. Don’t go getting all big brother on me again.”

  I hang my head in defeat knowing I have to add this guy to my radar along with the rest of her flock. It’s only the first week of school and already she has at least two guys on her tail. “Cara, why can’t you ever make life easy for me?”

  She pops her lips together after putting some sparkly shit on them. “You know you don’t have to keep an eye on me. I’m a big girl, now.”

  “You’re my little sister, so I do. I swear between you and Sophie this year might kill me.” I glance over at Sophie and notice how innocent she looks tucked into my bed. The thought of Caleb’s lips touching her skin has me contemplating punching him again.

  Cara clears her throat to get my attention. “You know my roommate isn’t allowed to date my brother.”

  Her rule catches me off guard and surprises me. Her roommates have never been off limits to me in the past. “Cara. I–” sputtering over my response, I can’t get my brain to form a complete sentence, so I give up before I say anything she can use against me later.

  “That’s what I thought. Have a good night big bro. Please return her in the morning.” She reaches up and kisses my cheek.

  “Cara,” I groan. I wipe the sparkles off with the back of my hand. “Do you have a ride? You’re not walking back to the dorm alone this late
at night.”

  “Yeah, Drew said the same thing so he’s sending his friend to come get me. Don’t worry; his friend’s an RA too and completely responsible.” She punches my arm playfully, “See, you two would get along.” I roll my eyes knowing I’d have no time for a life if I befriended every guy she took an interest in. She changes her next conquest about as often as she changes her clothes.

  “Behave, Cara,” I warn. I’ve had all the action I can handle for one night.

  “I always do, Kippy. See ya tomorrow.”

  After she leaves, I change into some sweats and take my shirt off, tossing it on top of the dresser. I try to get comfortable in the recliner, but I can’t sleep. The chair is too damn uncomfortable and knowing Sophie is in my bed doesn’t help either. For the first time, there’s actually a chick in my bed for the sole purpose of sleeping. And she’s fucking beautiful. Why can’t my sister have an ugly roommate again this year? The first chick who watched Star Wars on a continuous loop definitely kept me away. I’d only heard her speak a handful of times the entire time they shared a room and it was in Darth Vader’s voice. Creepy chicks are not for me.

  Another thirty minutes pass as I sit and watch Sophie sleep. Her eyelashes flutter a few times and she moans, but never fully wakes up.

  Still shocked it was her first party, I can’t even comprehend the idea of being a junior and never living it up like we do here every single weekend. I thought parties were part of the college experience. But from the small glimpse I’ve seen of her sober, she isn’t like most girls. I may not know why yet, but I will. Especially now that I know she wants me to kiss her.

  The thought doesn’t help my current situation any because when I close my eyes my mind wanders to the memory of Sophie dancing to top of the table. My dick twitches to life immediately. I won’t be worth a damn tomorrow if I don’t remove the image of her toned stomach from my brain.

  Risking potential bodily harm, I give up on the recliner, instead lying on top of the covers next to Sophie. She starts to stir and I worry she’s about to be sick again or kick my ass out of bed. Instead, she nuzzles into my side catching me completely off guard. I’ve never cuddled with a chick before. If I’m in bed with someone, it’s usually to fuck, none of which has anything to do with sweet caresses or affectionate embraces.

  “Kipton,” she mumbles.

  “Sleep, beautiful.”

  I WAKE UP DISORIENTED AND with an intense case of cotton mouth from a night I don’t entirely remember. The sun shining through the curtains is killing my throbbing head and I’d do anything for it to disappear. Give me water or give me death.

  Surprisingly, the scent of Kipton’s cologne is still lingering on my bedding and I cringe at the reminder of being caught indulging in the aroma. But as my body continues to scream in agony with sore muscles and a headache massive enough to cripple me, I now have bigger problems to worry about. Not to mention, I’m so nauseous I could throw up.

  Clutching the blankets to my chest, I sit up slowly yet still make myself dizzy. When I realize I’m not in my bed let alone my own bedroom, I panic. My eyes dart around the room, searching for anything familiar. But nothing is my own and Cara’s nowhere to be found.

  I don’t recognize the muscular back and shoulders lying next to me in the bed and I’m scared to find out who they belong to. I have to get out of here. My skirt is still on my body, but the fabric of someone else’s T-shirt, scrapes my sensitized skin. I have no idea where I left my own shirt and boots. I have to get out of here. Throwing the covers off of me, I climb out of the bed, unsure of how I got into it in the first place. How could I be so stupid—so careless with my body? Up until last night, I hadn’t been with anyone sexually since things with my ex came crashing down. I stuff those unwanted memories back into the vault and focus on finding my boots and purse.

  One sideways glance at the clock on the nightstand assures me I’ve made a colossal mistake. This can’t be happening. Tears prick my eyes. Coach Evans is going to kill me if I’m late to practice let alone hung over. Between the dizziness and the shooting pain in my head, I’m having trouble staying upright, but after the speech Coach gave me yesterday, I have to show up regardless of my protesting body.

  Turning my head too quickly, I lose my balance as an intense pain rocks my brain. I stifle my sobs with the back of my hand, careful not to wake up the guy in the bed. I search the carpet for the boots Cara let me borrow and see one peeking out from underneath the bed. I get on my hands and knees in search of the other. Swaying slightly to the side, I fight gravity to keep moving forward. But I spot the other boot all the way on the other side of the room by the window. As quietly as possible; I crawl over to fetch it. I stop moving when I hear him clear his throat. “You’re up.”

  Raising my head, the last person I expect to see is Kipton. In shock, I sit back on my heels and stare completely dumbstruck. Kipton’s sleepy eyes are staring back at me not giving away an ounce of information about the night. Instead, his look is intense as his gaze shifts to my neck. Whatever he sees makes him cringe. I touch the area of skin he’s focused on with my fingertips and discover it’s tender.

  Standing up, I shuffle to the mirror hanging above his dresser. “What the fuck?” I lean closer to the glass, trying to get a better look at the bruise on my neck. I know what it is and it looks trashy. Another reminder of a portion of the night I don’t remember.

  Things only get worse when I spot the gigantic lump on my forehead. “What happened to me?” I whisper against the glass of the mirror, fogging it up with my breath. The injury convinces me I’ve been violated in some way yet the mood around me seems unthreatening. None of it makes sense.

  Clutching my head with my right hand and my neck in my left, I capture Kipton’s fierce reflection through the mirror. His eyes soften only when they meet mine. He looks different first thing in the morning—sexier if that’s even possible. If I thought I was attracted to him before, seeing him naked from the waist up only solidifies it. His chiseled torso taunts me, suddenly making me self-conscious about being intimate with him and not remembering. What did I let him do to me?

  “I have to go. I’m going to be late for practice.” I scramble to put my boots back on and wet my fingertip to try to remove some of the black mascara that’s smudged underneath my eyes. Refastening my ponytail is painful with each tug of my hair sending more shooting pains to my forehead. Gingerly, I run my fingertips over the bruise on my head and wince. It’s incredibly sore to the touch. “Shit.”

  Searching for my wristlet; my anger intensifies when I can’t find that either. “Where is it?” Tears start to fall again, my frustration mixing with my embarrassment. I hate the way he’s watching me.

  “Come ‘ere a minute, Sophie” Kipton scoots to the edge of the bed, the sheet falling away from his body. I let my gaze fall to the floor so I’m not tempted to stare at him. My body trembles from the shock of the unknown combined with the pain from my throbbing temples.

  Complying, I go to Kipton, wiping away my tears with the back of my hand. He reaches out his arm and pulls me closer so I have no choice but to sit down on the edge of the bed next to him. “Sophie, you’re shaking.”

  As he reaches up to inspect my head, I lean away from his touch before he can make contact with my skin. “Don’t.” He appears stunned by not having permission to touch me.

  “Sophie, I’m not going to hurt you.”

  “It already hurts. I don’t know what happened and I’m in so much trouble. I need to get back to the dorm.”

  “Shh. You’re okay.” Reaching for me again, he lightly grazes his thumb over the bruise while nestling his fingers in the strands of my hair. The action is intimate and somewhat adoring, both of which I don’t understand, especially coming from a guy I barely know. There’s no urgency or dominance in his actions. Instead he appears genuinely concerned with his soft touches and careful inspection.

  When I can’t take the intensity of his touch any longer, I speak.
“I’m fine.” But my eyes lie as much as my actions. He knows I’m in not fine—at all.

  “Sophie, you need to get your head looked at. I couldn’t take you last night because you were so drunk.”

  “No, I know. Thank you. I would have lost my scholarship.”

  “Yeah. That’s why I didn’t want to risk it. But I feel like I messed up.”

  “I promise I’ll be okay. I take falls all the time at practice.” Kipton blinks several times and I know he’s about to call my bluff.

  “I can tell you’re in pain. You could have a concussion. I’ve had one. It’s no picnic.”

  “I know. I’ve been there too, but I’m late. I need to get going.” He nods reluctantly and brushes his thumb down my cheek before tucking a stray strand of my hair behind my ear. “Thanks.”

  “Give me a minute to put a shirt on and I’ll drive you.”

  “Okay. Thank you. Do you happen to know where my shirt is?” I play with my hands nervously, embarrassed that I have to ask him for my own clothing. I couldn’t be more disappointed with myself.

  He turns his head to face me and pauses, his eyes roaming up and down my body. I glance down at my horrendous outfit. You can’t even tell I have a skirt on with the T-shirt hanging all the way down to my knees. “No I don’t. I wasn’t the one who took it off. Do you remember anything about last night, Sophie?”

  “Honestly, not much. I remember coming here and losing Cara in the crowd. Then I met up with Caleb at the keg. He showed me around and gave me some drinks. Everything after that is a blur.”

  “That’s what I thought.” He pulls a T-shirt over his head, grabbing his keys as soon as it’s in place. I fidget, wishing this wasn’t so awkward. “Come on, I’ll take you back to the dorm.” He opens his top dresser drawer and pulls out my bag. I sigh in relief that it’s not lost.

  “Thank you.”

  “You don’t have to keep thanking me, Sophie.”

  I don’t argue. Instead, I follow him downstairs. From the looks of it, the rest of the house is still asleep. Guys and girls are passed out on various couches throughout the living room. There definitely won’t be any signs of life inside the house for a while.