His eyes gleamed with what I took as pride. “Hot damn, you made it! How are my two favorite girls?”
I smiled up at him. “The question is how’s the party? Anyone OD yet? Human sacrifices going on in the back?” I pretended to be casual, but I stood on my tiptoes and peeked around his shoulders as I spoke, checking out the scene. I didn’t let my gaze linger too long on anyone. My nerves were taut and ready to pop, and I hadn’t even seen the entire place.
He shook his head, giving me a pointed look like he saw through my jokes. “Nah, we keep a tight watch on those things.” He wrapped us both up in a big brawny hug, his rosy cheeks making him look almost cherubic. “I’m damned glad you’re here. And I promise to take care of you.” He tweaked me on the nose. “You especially. Now stop waffling and come on in.”
The room blared with music and people stood everywhere. It was hot and noisy and my chest tightened. I skated my eyes through the crowd when all I wanted to do was run like hell. Thank goodness we swept on through to get out of the throng, and he led us out the patio doors to the backyard. Air. I inhaled and then choked on a cloud of perfume as one of the fraternity sisters stopped in front of us. Lorna something. I’d seen her around Blake before, and judging from the evil eye she sent me, I wasn’t her favorite person. Whatever. I didn’t care. Blake and I were just friends, but because we spent a lot of time together, some people might assume we were more.
She slid her hands over Blake’s chest. “Hey baby, don’t you want to come back inside where the real party is? No one fun is out here.”
Shelley giggled and I kept my face a mask. Cool. Calm. I’d been around girls like her all through prep school. Pretty rich girls. The best way to deal with them was to never let them see you get flustered. Be a bitch right back. I smiled at her tightly as Blake leaned over to whisper something in her ear. She flounced off to go back inside, a little extra swing in her hips.
He crooked our arms together and showed me around, pride evident in his voice as he stopped periodically to introduce me to several of his brothers. Shelley knew most everyone already.
I took a look around the area, taking in the lit tiki torches, a makeshift dance floor with a DJ and strobe lights, and a huge pool. People roamed everywhere, most of them popular and Greek and not part of my crowd. A girl in a tiny red bikini did a cannonball into the deep end and came up holding her top. Almost immediately, guys whooped loudly and jumped in after her.
“This party is on steroids,” I murmured.
“You good?” Shelley asked.
I nodded.
A tall guy—about six three—with dark hair and a jawline that could rival any movie star stopped in front of Blake. He did a bow thing and came up with a cocky grin and checked us out blatantly.
Shelley pushed her well-endowed boobs out. A notorious guy-chaser, she loved guys and was quite, er, free with her love. Didn’t matter who they were. Tall, short, rich, poor, black, white, amphibian …
“Who’re your hot friends, mate?” the guy asked in an English accent, his words sleek in their delivery. Lofty.
My eyebrows went straight up, my interest piqued. Yes! I loved the way he talked.
Blake immediately stiffened. “They’re with me, Dax, so hands off.”
Dax? Nice name.
I shot Blake a quick look, but he avoided my eyes. He was a bit possessive when it came to protecting me, and a few times over the past few years I’d had to tell him to back down. I started to lean in and tell him it was fine, but the guy spoke first.
“What? Can’t I even say hi?” He turned dark gray eyes at me. “You. Do you eat sugar all the time? ’Cause you are the sweetest thing I’ve seen all night.”
A surprised snort came from me. “That’s the worst pickup line ever.”
He looked crestfallen. “Ah, angel, don’t laugh—or snort—at me. You’re killing my fragile ego.”
“Truth hurts.”
He grinned, not deterred. “Okay, this isn’t a line, but have we met before? You seem really familiar.”
I stuck my hand out. The more forthright I was, the easier it made things. “I’m Elizabeth Bennett, and we’ve never met because I’d definitely have remembered your accent. Unless it was in class and we never spoke …” I arched my brow. “What’s your major? I’m in the art department mostly.”
He grimaced. “Psychology, but I don’t go to class much. Maybe it was the Sigma party last year?”
“The one with the goats on the roof? Ah, no.”
“The Delta toga party? The one where the cops came?” He chuckled. “Don’t recall much of that one, although I do remember waking up in a pair of women’s underwear.”
Oh. “Sadly, no, but I did see the students who were arrested on the news.”
He tossed back his head to laugh, calling attention to the strong lines of his throat. I let my eyes take more of him in, checking out the skinny jeans and the Vital Rejects band shirt that fit snugly to his muscled chest. He was gorgeous.
He knew I was checking him out, because he smirked, a knowing glint in his eye. He nudged his head at the crowded dance floor. “Wanna go dance?”
“Ever heard of taking it slow, Dax?” Blake snapped. “She just got here. Give her some space.”
Shelley ignored Blake and looked at me expectantly, obviously wanting me to say yes, but I shook my head at Dax. “Sorry. I’m not your type.” Best to rip the Band-Aid off fast.
“I’m every girl’s type.” His eyes skated over my white strapless sundress. “Especially beautiful angels who just fell from heaven.”
“Don’t angels have wings?” I asked. “Kinda hard to fall when technically you can fly.”
He waggled his eyebrows and held up the Solo cup he carried in his hand. “No one’s splitting hairs here, besides my lines get better the more I drink.”
Ah.
I stiffened but nodded. Trying to be polite. “Hmm, well, I usually spend my Friday nights doing homework while I wear granny panties. I also binge watch Masterpiece Theatre, crochet knit hats, and do calculus when I get bored. I don’t usually come to parties. I don’t even talk to guys who drink, so I’m really not your type.”
He rolled his eyes. “Just one dance, love. We don’t have to get married.”
“Good thing I’m stone-cold sober. Looks like I’m the winner here, brother. You can pay me later,” said another accented voice behind me, and I whipped around to see a replica of Dax. Only with bigger muscles.
Another Brit?
Only this one’s voice was huskier. Sexier.
“Twins?” I squeaked.
They smirked and nodded simultaneously. In the same exact manner.
I blinked. Oh. They were double trouble, sex on two sticks.
The sober one pushed dark brown hair off his forehead and stared at me. His face was classically handsome, the jawline angular and defined, but that’s where the carbon copy stopped. Every inch of this guy’s arms not covered by his black shirt were covered in colorful tattoos, and I got lost trying to trace the designs, from ivy branches to skulls. My eyes paused on the blue dragonfly tattoo on his neck. Odd seeing something so light-hearted on such a bulky dude.
He wore tight designer jeans, black motorcycle boots, and a shirt that clung to a chest that had obviously seen its fair share of the inside of a gym. Intense was the word that came to mind when his silver-gray eyes met mine, sweeping over my face, lingering on my bare shoulders. Warmth spread and I got hot as if I’d just stuck my finger in a socket.
What was that?
One thing for sure, he was pure hot male and if you could put it in a bottle, you’d make millions.
Get away from the hotness and tell your ovaries to settle down, my brain yelled, but I stupidly ignored it.
Something about him had me riveted. Maybe it was the black eye.
I immediately pictured him in a bar, turning over chairs and tables and kicking other big dudes’ asses.
I took a tiny step back. Remember the rules. No hot
guys. No popular guys. No rich guys. I was fairly certain he’d check all those boxes.
The sober twin flashed even, white teeth. “In case you’re wondering, I’m the oldest by two minutes. I also get better grades, as you might have guessed.” He tossed an arm around his brother and rubbed his head good-naturedly.
“Yeah, but I’m the babe magnet,” Dax said. “You’re just coasting on my bloody coattails, trying to pluck the birds I found first.”
The bigger one laughed. “Keep dreaming, baby bro. I don’t need to coast. I am the sexiest guy on campus.”
“Whatever. I’m Dax, in case you missed it,” he said to me with a grin.
I looked at the other twin. “And you are?”
“Declan,” he murmured in his low voice, his accented words like silk, the vowels soft and rounded.
I shivered.
Declan.
One simple word that I felt all the way to the roots of my scalp.
Butterflies danced in my tummy. I yelled at them to settle down, but they didn’t listen.
His full, sensuous lips kicked up in a grin as I repeated it. “That’s a beautiful name,” I said, “the way it rolls off my tongue.”
“It’s Gaelic and means full of goodness. Ironic since most call me trouble.” He smiled. “Elizabeth, right?”
I nodded and he put his hand out for me to take. I rested mine in his much larger warm one, not surprised by the tingles that zipped down my spine. Reluctantly he released my hand, his fingertips sliding against my palm in a sensuous sweep. I let out an uneven breath I must have been holding since the moment he stepped into my vision.
Was his reaction the same as mine?
His facial expression hadn’t changed at our first touch, yet he’d moved closer to me, the expensive scent of his woodsy cologne permeating my senses.
The conversation picked back up with the others, but Declan and I just stood there silently. I glanced at him. He glanced at me. He smiled. I smiled. And right there it felt like we were having an intimate moment, just the two of us as we stared at each other while the world carried on. His gaze kept coming back to me, almost inquisitive as if he wanted to ask me something but didn’t know how. There was a connection between us, and I’m not stupid, I know it wasn’t love at first sight—maybe lust—but he was definitely the hottest guy I’d been this close to in two years.
He was exactly what I needed tonight, the complete opposite of Colby’s blond and preppy Ralph Lauren looks. Perhaps it was time to take my rules a step further, to prove to myself I could be with whomever I wanted and keep control of the situation.
As long as the fortress of my heart remained under lock and key, I was good.
He turned away from me when a pretty girl walked up to him, and just like that I changed my mind. Player?
He looked back to me a minute or two later, a sheepish smile on his face. “Sorry about that. I taught her some self-defense moves last year, and she was telling me how she’d used them on her older brother this summer.”
Oh. I took in his broad chest and biceps. “You’re a trainer?”
He nodded, an earnest expression on his face. “Yeah. I’ve taught in some of the local gyms, but I’m opening my own soon.”
“Is that how you got your black eye?”
He considered me carefully. “No.”
I studied him harder, my gaze boring into the masculine planes of his face. Instinctively, I reached up and delicately touched a red place near his hairline. A cut? He winced and I immediately dropped my hand. “So sorry, I—I don’t know why I did that.”
Stop touching the hot guy! I yelled in my head.
He shrugged. “It’s fine.”
“You use your fists a lot?”
“Yes,” he said softly.
I sucked in a sharp breath. Dangerous. Sexy. Trouble.
Why was I still talking to him?
Blake sidestepped between Declan and me in such a way that it felt forced. “You want a drink, Elizabeth? There’s beer and some punch, although it’s probably spiked. I can scrounge around and find you something though.”
“A water would be great.”
“Yes,” Shelley said emphatically. “She may not drink, but I do. Bring it to mama. Anything will do.”
Declan surprised me by saying he’d get them for us, and I watched him move away, his lithe frame moving with the easy grace of someone used to holding back power like a sexy jungle cat who prowled around and took what he wanted …
I’d like to pet that jungle cat, rub his silky fur and make him purr …
I slapped myself mentally.
Jungle cat? Make him purr? What was wrong with me tonight?
“Don’t mess with him,” Blake whispered in my ear as if he’d read my train of thought.
I shot a look over at Dax and Shelley to make sure they hadn’t heard his comment, but they were involved in a discussion about music.
“Why? What’s wrong with him?”
He narrowed his eyes, a flash of annoyance on his face. “Are you interested?”
“Get real. I study. I work. I sleep.” Occasionally I have sex.
He nodded, his expression growing serious. “Maybe it’s time to move on and trust someone.”
I arched a brow. “But not Declan?”
He opened his mouth. Shut it. He held his hands up as if to placate me. “Don’t get me wrong. He’s cool. But you’re exactly his type, physically any way, and I saw the way he looked at you. He’s on the rebound, and I just don’t want you to get hurt. He’s a senior and popular—and well, no one knows you.”
“Wow. That hurt. Thanks for the vote of confidence.” I crossed my arms.
He groaned. “It’s just … I’ve seen him go through girls like frat boys and their beer. He’s a user and once he’s done with you, he’ll toss you out. You need a nice guy.”
My mouth tightened. “I thought Colby was a nice guy and look how that turned out.” I sighed. “Are you actually jealous?”
He flushed. “I just know how guys think. Declan’s a jerk and you need to avoid him and not do anything stupid.”
“And if by stupid you mean let a guy get me drunk so he can do whatever he wants—I think I learned my lesson.” Blake and I had been arguing a lot lately, and it was always about stupid stuff. Something was off between us. “Whatever. I’m going to find a restroom.”
Shelley’s eyes were big as I turned to walk away, but Blake grabbed my hand and pulled me back. He grimaced, hazel eyes apologetic. “I’m an asshole. I’m sorry. It’s just—I remember what you looked like, all messed up and crying, and then you tried—”
“Just stop,” I snipped. “Please. I don’t need reminders of my mistakes.”
He reddened, his shoulders dipping down. “I can’t do anything right by you tonight. Forgive me, Elizabeth?”
God, what was wrong with me? He’d always been there for me.
“Of course. I’m sorry for snapping,” I said as his big body leaned in to give me a hug. We embraced tightly, his strong arms encircling my waist as I tilted my head up and met his eyes. They were glistening with some kind of emotion I took as remorse.
“It’s okay,” I murmured and kissed his cheek.
We pulled apart but not before I saw Declan look over his shoulder at us from his place in line at the bar. A strange expression crossed his face, but then it was just as quickly gone.
I couldn’t help but notice that my gaze wasn’t the only one following him around the patio. Almost all the girls. And a few of the guys. He laughed at something someone said on the way back to us, his long legs eating up the ground in big strides. People everywhere clapped him on the back as if congratulating him. He’d nod and smile. Those who didn’t know him seemed to scurry to move, nodding their heads at him, giving him passage.
He had presence, as Mom would say.
My mom had dated a string of men with presence—drug problems, felonies, heavy fists.
I groaned. I was spending way too much t
ime analyzing this guy.
But my mouth had other ideas. “So what exactly is Declan’s type,” I asked Blake, turning my eyes to him.
“Blond hair, long legs, smart. Mostly sorority girls with attitudes and rich daddies. In fact, his ex, Nadia, is here somewhere.” He gazed around at the crowd as if to find her.
I snorted. “Rich girls? I’m here on an academic scholarship. I think I’m safe.”
“Safe from what?” Declan asked me as he approached us. I startled. He’d moved a lot faster than I’d thought. He handed me a chilled bottle of water, his warm hands again connecting with mine, his fingers lingering.
Sparks went off on my skin.
Did he carry some kind of electrical current machine around in his pocket?
He handed a Solo cup of beer to Shelley.
I tried to focus my eyes away from him, but the darn things kept returning to him, searching his face and taking in the details. He had a three-inch white scar above his right eyebrow and I found myself wanting to touch it, to trace it with my fingers and ask him what had happened. He was preoccupied with me too, giving me long glances but then looking away and rolling his neck as if what he saw in me made his shoulders tight.
Ha. I bet he had a line of girls waiting to work those kinks out.
But still that didn’t stop me from following him to the back of the yard when he suggested it, saying we could talk without everyone in our face.
Blake went off to dance with one of the fraternity little sisters. Shelley checked with me to make sure I was okay and when I told her I was fine, she and Dax headed out to dance.
We stood with our backs against the fence and watched the party, laughing every now and then at something crazy someone would do in the pool or on the dance floor.
“Do you think we’re the only sober people here?” I asked. I’d noticed he’d been drinking water too.
He shrugged. “My father drinks a lot, and I don’t want to be anything like him.”
I heard the tension in his voice, and because I wanted to ease him, I opened up. “Hmm, no family is perfect. My dad’s in prison—or at least the man my mom tells me is my dad. I’ve never met him, but he’s there for murder.”
I Dare You Page 20
