I shake my head and backhand him across the chest. “The only way you’d nail a girl like her is in your dreams.”
“Whatever,” he mumbles.
Shannon’s beer spills all down the new girl’s shirt. The girl’s face blanches but Shannon’s got the smallest smirk. Knowing her, she dumped it on the poor girl on purpose.
The new girl’s sheer blouse is probably ruined. Too bad, it looked great on her. The new girl likely comes to the same conclusion and takes it off, revealing a black tank top underneath.
Kevin puts two fingers in his mouth and lets out a loud whistle. The new girl looks around and her eyes lock on mine again. I shove my hands in my pockets and flash her a grin. Her face flushes the brightest shade of red I’ve ever seen before looking away.
A few other guys behind us let out some howling sounds and a few more whistles. The poor girl ducks behind Jess. I chuckle, not able to take my eyes off her.
Jess literally drags the new girl over to us. The new girl keeps spinning around in Jess’s arms to go back to the corner they came from, but Jess is persistent.
“Guys, this is Mallory,” Jess says when they’re a few feet from us. “She’s here for the summer from Florida.”
Mallory has a shy smile. Her downcast eyes drift up and bounce from me to Rob to Kevin and then back to me.
“That handsome man there with the tattoos is my Rob,” Jess says, proudly.
Rob gives an upward nod, pulls a joint from his cigarette pack and lights it. Holding it to his lips with his thumb and forefinger, Rob sucks in a deep breath, the end of the white paper glowing a bright orange. On an exhale he holds the joint out to Mallory. She shakes her head, and Rob puts it back to his lips.
“This joker is Kevin.” Jess pats him on the chest. “Don’t let him fool you. He’s a dog, fleas and all.”
A blond chick Kevin hooked up with a few nights ago passes by, with an inviting look on her face.
“Oh, look. A flea,” Jess exclaims.
Mallory rolls her eyes, letting a slow smile cross her lips, setting my nerves on fire.
What is she doing to me?
Jess turns to me last. “And it sounds like you’ve already met Beau.”
“I know you,” Kevin says, a little too enthusiastically. “You’re Shannon’s friend.”
“No shit, Sherlock. She was with her like literally two minutes ago,” Rob says on an exhale. A cloud of white smoke surrounds us as he passes the joint to Kevin.
“Well, yeah,” Kevin says, after an inhale, “but weren’t you in the car last night?”
Mallory laughs and the sound makes my heart flutter, and it isn’t even a full laugh. More like a nervous chuckle. I inch closer. She smells sweet, like coconuts and summer.
The smell triggers memories lost in my mind. She is the girl from the last night. That shy smile, those piercing sapphire eyes. How could I have forgotten those eyes?
“I’m surprised you noticed.” Mallory’s shy smile has transcended into more of a smirk.
“How could I not notice a sexy thing like you?” Kevin’s so full of shit.
Mallory rolls her eyes. “You screwed the only person I might call a friend around here in the back of your truck last night. Tone it down there, Romeo.”
A sense of pride washes over me when she doesn’t fall for Kevin’s bullshit. “Actually, it was my truck, and you have us now. Can’t claim to have only one friend anymore,” I say with a grin.
Mallory looks me up and down, sending my pulse into overdrive. Our gazes tangle together, heating the longer they hold. Her chest rises and falls, her bottom lip drops just enough to make a small space between her lips.
Mallory breaks eye contact to look behind me. Her eyes dart about. The sound of the party around us lulls and for all I know everyone at the party’s disappeared. I take a risk and step close. I reach out and my hand settles on Mallory’s hip. Her breath hitches. She looks up at me and bites her bottom lip again.
I brush a soft brown curl behind her ear, my fingers grazing across her cheek. I don’t know if she did it on purpose, but she flinches away from my touch and takes a step back.
Kevin clears his throat. I look at him, breaking the spell she has me under.
“Well, since you’re un-woo-able,” he says to Mallory. “I’m going to find someone who finds me irresistible.”
Chuckling, I slap him on the back. “Good luck with that, buddy.”
Kevin flips me the bird and leaves to search for a girl he can score with. I look around. Rob and Jess have disappeared somewhere, Shannon’s giving some guy a lap dance, and Kevin’s somehow already found his next conquest.
It’s just Mallory and me now. Me looking at Mallory while she looks everywhere but at me. I shove my hands in my pockets.
Why does she make me so nervous?
“Fuck it,” she says, breaking the silence. Her eyes narrow on me. “I need a drink.”
Chapter 7
Mallory
Why does Beau have to be so good looking? People like him should be locked up, away from society. He’s hazardous to my health.
And when he held onto my hips…I thought he was going to kiss me. I wanted him to kiss me. But then his hand went to my face and I flinched. I couldn’t help it. I had to take a step back and when I did Beau’s hand fell from my hip.
I sigh and look around. Apparently getting lost in Beau’s eyes makes people vanish because I don’t know when Rob and Jess disappeared. I might have been fine, but then Kevin left, leaving Beau and I alone.
My heart pounds. Butterflies somersault in my stomach. I tilt my head to look Beau in the eye. He’s so close, I could easily touch him. I could run my hands down his chest or brush my fingers across the stubble on his cheeks.
“Fuck it. I need a drink,” I say, trying to get the image of us together out of my mind. If I’m going to be spending all night with him, I need something to occupy my hands...and mouth.
Beau probably meant to grab my hand, but he gets my wrist instead. I freeze. Out of reflex, I yank my arm back as hard as I can and hold it to my chest. He turns around, eyes wider than when they were sizing up my chest.
Panic floods through me. Beau probably thinks I’m crazy. First, I flinch and now I pull myself away from him. Tears prick at my eyes. I swallow hard, waiting for Beau to leave, but he doesn’t. Instead, he comes close. Real close, his face only a few inches from mine.
My heart’s beating so fast and so loud I’m surprised he can’t hear it. I look down at the ground, beyond embarrassed.
Beau puts two fingers under my chin, raising my gaze until our eyes meet. “Are you okay?”
He cares?
Why does he care?
“I’m fine,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
Beau’s brows draw together. He’s probably trying to figure out if I’m worth the effort.
I’m not.
Neither of us speaks. Neither of us moves. His big brown eyes are locked on mine.
Can he see the tears welling in them?
One blink and they’d be free but I refuse to let him see how weak I am. Unfortunately, my body’s betraying me. My eyes burn and I don’t know how much longer I can keep my tears at bay.
Beau clears his throat. Taking a step back, he holds his hand out to me. I clutch my wrist against my chest. He didn’t hurt me, but my childhood memories send a chill I can’t shake down my spine. Beau waits motionlessly for me to trust him.
Thump. Thump.
My heart’s racing.
Thump. Thump.
My chest tightens.
I try to smile, but I’m sure it looks as forced as it feels. It’s hard to push past the prickling feeling in my spine telling me to run. But Beau waits for me to be ready.
I’m not ready.
I’m not ready to give my body to him like he probably expects. And I’m certainly not ready to give him my heart, although I doubt he wants it. I maybe could be friends, but men that look like him don’t talk to girls
like me because they want to be friends.
Still, he waits.
I extend the hand clutched to my chest. Our fingers intertwine in a loose grip. Beau gives me a grin that’s indisputably sweet. There’s a touch of acceptance and the right amount of shyness in it. An unexpected warmth runs through me.
Beau pulls me close to his body, wrapping a protective arm around my shoulders as we walk through the house. A small part of me wants to push him away, but a greater part is telling me to give him a chance. It’s that part I listen to as I let him put a crack in the walls I’ve only just begun to build.
“Pick your poison,” he says, opening each cooler on the back patio. Beer, beer, and more beer. I must have stared too long because he asks, “Not feeling it?”
I shake my head.
“I think I know what you need.” Beau’s hand goes to the small of my back. His soft lips stretch into a grin that reaches his bright eyes. Eyes that lock onto mine a little too long to be innocent. Friends, I remind myself. We can only be friends.
“Ready?” he asks.
“Uh-huh,” is all I manage to get out.
The night is warm, but a cool breeze sends a chill down my spine causing goosebumps to break out across my flesh. Beau pulls me closer, rubbing his hand across my arm to keep me warm. I rest my head against his shoulder while we walk through the back gate and down the street.
Beau’s parked at the end of the vacant lot, almost at the church, but I instantly recognize his truck from the sticker on the back glass. Reaching into the bed of the truck with one hand, he unlatches the toolbox. He then lets me go to peer inside it. The sound of metal scraping against metal hurts my ears as he shuffles things around. Finally, he finds what he’s looking for. In one hand is a bottle of Jack Daniels and in the other is a grey long sleeve shirt. He drapes the shirt over my shoulders and I slide my arms through.
“Better?”
I nod. “Yes, thank you.”
I eye the bottle of whiskey, not looking forward to shots. But seeing as we walked all the way out here, it would be rude to refuse his offering. Beau twists the cap and puts the bottle to his lips. After his swallow, he holds it out for me. Shutting my eyes, I tip the bottle back. The bitter flavor is stronger than I like. I bite back the urge to spit it out and swallow with a grimace. He grins. I hand back the bottle and he sips the liquid, as if it doesn’t burn going down his throat. After taking three terrible shots, my head’s light. The world is swaying and I’m moving my hips to keep up with it.
Beau unlatches his tailgate and sits on it. The radio plays just loud enough for us to hear. I can’t help myself. Between the swaying of the world and the moving of my hips, I find myself dancing. His eyes follow me, watching me like I’m some sort of prized possession.
Beau scoots to the edge of the tailgate. He leans forward and sticks a finger through one of my belt loops, pulling me to him. It’s so sudden that I trip over my feet. My hands land beside him to steady myself, while his wrap around my waist. The fluttering in my stomach from his touch takes my breath away.
Beau’s head dips, his lips press against the crook of my neck. I freeze, unsure if I want him to stop or to keep going. His mouth keeps moving, peppering me with soft kisses until his lips are next to my ear.
My eyes drift closed. I give into the feeling of falling, the feeling of letting my guard down. I let myself want Beau because I do. It might be the alcohol, but I have this sudden need to have him closer. His lips part beside my ear, the warmth of his breath sending my senses into overdrive.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispers.
Chapter 8
Beau
Giving Mallory shots may have been a bad idea. This girl’s the epitome of white girl wasted, but she’s adorable—her hips sway from right to left, a little up and then a little down out of rhythm to the music. Yet, somehow, the movements are still sexy.
I slip my finger through one of Mallory’s belt loops, drawing her into me. She loses her footing and almost falls. I grasp onto her hips but braces herself, her delicate hands on either side of me.
Doesn’t she know I won’t let her get hurt?
Mallory’s between my legs, her chest presses against mine, and the sweet smell of coconut floods my senses again.
Scarlet tints her cheeks when her eyes meet mine. A smile spreads across my face. I like that she’s blushing and that she hasn’t pulled away from me yet.
Giving in to my desires, I lean closer. Mallory’s breath hitches when my lips graze the crook of her neck. She shudders in my arms from the feel of my mouth.
Mallory’s skin is as soft as silk. Hands that were just at my hips grasp the sides of my shirt. My lips move up her neck leaving a pathway of kisses behind them. A soft moan escapes her lips when I finally reach her ear.
“You’re beautiful,” I whisper.
Mallory melts into me. She turns her head and our lips are mere centimeters from each other. Warm breath tinged with whiskey tickles my skin. Her lips fall open a fraction and the hair on the back of my neck stands on edge. I want to satisfy her. To give her a kiss that wipes all others from her memory. Her eyes close, and she sways in my arms. It’s then I remember how drunk she is. The last thing I want is for her to regret kissing me, to blame her indiscretion on the alcohol.
I clear my throat. Mallory’s eyes flutter open and the tinge of regret I feel from the downturn of her lips surprises me. I’ve shot girls down before; some have even cried. But this, watching the hurt flicker across her face, makes me wish I could go back to a few moments ago and kiss her.
Mallory flashes a smile too big to be genuine. Spinning around, she grabs my arm and says, “Come on.”
Her delicate fingers slide down my arm and intertwine with mine as she pulls me back inside the house to the middle of the living room. A wave of nausea washes over me when I realize what’s about to happen.
This is the Casper Slide Part Two, the speakers bellow, and it’s time to get funky, funky.
If there is one thing I could never do again in my entire life, it would be dancing. It’s not that I have two left feet. I can dance. There’s just something about bumping and grinding out in public that makes me cringe. Even slow dancing makes me uncomfortable. For me, dancing is intimate and personal and just feels wrong to do out in public. Yet, I can’t stand the to see the glimmer in Mallory’s eyes go out again. So, I stay beside her and get ready for the worst four minutes of my life.
Mallory follows the song’s directions and claps her hands. The corners of her lips twist up and her boisterous laugh draws me in. I roll my eyes, unable to fight the smile forming and clap along with her. She gives a little skip then steps to the left as the dance begins.
About halfway into the first verse of the song, a group of people have gathered around us. As much as I hate dancing, I’m oddly surprised when I don’t want the song to end. Watching Mallory slide and jump is worth it. When she steps in the wrong direction, she throws her head down in a fit of giggles, her cheeks the brightest shade of red when her face finally resurfaces from under all her hair. A smile ear to ear.
When the song ends, I grab two beers from the fridge and hand one to Mallory. As we walk over to an empty spot in the living room, I can’t help but notice how almost every man who catches sight of Mallory does a noticeable double take, and for some reason, it makes me feel some kind of way.
Mallory stops walking and looks around the room. I tip my beer back, guzzling it in one swallow. It slides down my throat with ease, the cold liquid joining the churn in my gut. Mallory abruptly turns around and rests her head against my chest. As I grasp onto her hips, she tilts her head and smiles up at me. Her plump, pink bottom lip slips between her teeth. Those bluebell eyes drift to my mouth.
Two seconds.
She lifts herself up on her toes until our gazes are almost level.
Four seconds.
My lips tingle with the need to touch her. I should kiss her. I want to kiss her. I just don’t want her
to regret it. Regret me.
Six Seconds.
Screw it.
I dip my head but I’m too late. Mallory lowers back onto the soles of her feet. Her shoulders slump forward. She steps away and saunters across the room, probably for another beer.
My phone vibrates once in my back pocket. I reach for it.
Shannon: You got Mallory
Me: Yeah. Why
Shannon: I left with Scott
Me: WTF he’s a jerk and you’re supposed to be taking care of your friend
Shannon: Whatever take her home with you
Me: She doesn’t know me
Shannon: She’s drunk and seems pretty comfortable with you. She’ll be fine
Me: You’re the worst
Shannon: And you’re a jerk. Just be careful. She’s broken
Me: WTF does that mean?
Shannon: It means she just got out of a long relationship.
Me: You’re a peach Shannon
I can’t believe Shannon would ditch Mallory. Shaking my head, I look up from my phone, expecting to find Mallory at my side again, but she’s gone.
Just gone.
I scan the room, looking at every face yet unable to find the one I’m looking for. My chest feels like someone’s squeezing the life out of me. I can’t get a good breath. Mallory’s drunk and beautiful and vulnerable, and she’s not here.
My jaw clenches tight at the thought of her passed out somewhere, or worse. I’ll be damned if anyone takes advantage of her. I move through the party like a madman. I find Kevin, still in the corner where I last saw him with his hand up some chick’s skirt.
“Dude, have you seen Mallory?”
I try to keep the panic out of my voice, but it’s hard. What if she’s blindly hooking up with some man-whore like Kevin? His lips on her lips. His hands touching her…I shudder at the thought. Kevin waves me off.
I slam my hand against the wall near their faces. “Dude!”
Kevin snaps his head up, eyes wide.
“She’s gone.” I can’t get a good breath. I feel like I’m going to hyperventilate. “I need you to help me find her.”
“Why? She’s just a chick.”
Can't Let Go Page 3
