His smile is downright saucy. “Tonight, or ever?”
“Ever.”
“Give me one good reason why not,” Beau challenges.
“Because a) I don’t want to, and b) picture this—it’s ten years from now. I’m a Hollywood A-lister, a three-time Academy Award winner, the most sought-after actress ever to grace the silver screen…and then the latest issue of People magazine hits the stands. And you know what the headline reads?” I move my hand through the air as if I’m spelling out the headline—“Celebrity debauchery exposed. Allie Hayes, college threesome queen.”
Beau spells out his own headline. “Super Bowl champ Beau Maxwell quoted as saying, ‘best night of my life.’”
I sigh and turn to Dean, who’s clearly trying not to laugh. “And now it’s time for bed. Say goodnight to your friend Beau, sweetie.”
“Good night, Beau,” Dean says obediently.
24
Allie
Dean and I arrive back at campus at noon the next day. Since the team bus leaves at one o’clock for their game in Burlington, he should be hightailing it out of the parking lot if he wants to go home and change first. But he stays rooted in the driver’s seat.
“What’s wrong?” I can’t decipher his expression.
“Can I see you tonight?” His voice is husky, and there’s an inexplicable chord of…something…in it.
“I have rehearsal, so it depends on when Steven lets us out. Call me when you’re back from Vermont and we’ll see where I’m at?”
He nods. Still doesn’t move.
“Do you mind helping me with my suitcase?”
Another nod.
I fight a pang of uneasiness as we get out of the car. There’s no one in the parking lot to see us unload my bag, but that isn’t what’s making me apprehensive. It’s the intensity Dean is radiating. It’s like he wants to say something but doesn’t know how to broach the subject.
“Everything okay?” I ask lightly.
Those green eyes sweep over me so intently I feel self-conscious. I know my hair is a wavy mess, and I’m pretty sure there’s a tiny zit forming on my chin. I hope that’s not what he’s staring at.
“All good, baby doll,” he finally says, snapping out of whatever deep thoughts he’d been having. “C’mere and give me a good luck kiss. We desperately need to win this game today.”
My gaze flits around the lot. A slight frown touches Dean’s lips¸ and seeing it triggers a flash of guilt. We just spent three days together. We fooled around in front of Beau, for crying out loud, and I’m afraid to kiss him in an empty parking lot?
I bridge the distance and lean on my tiptoes to brush my lips over his. “Good luck,” I whisper. Then I slip him a little tongue and smile when his breath catches.
He groans softly. “Tease.”
My smile widens as I take a step back. “Thanks for the ride. And the night out.”
“And the dirty, dirty sex,” he reminds me.
“One dirty would’ve sufficed.” Except nope, I’m wrong. What we did this weekend requires at least two dirties. Four would probably be the right amount.
“You sure you can manage that thing?” he asks as I roll my overstuffed suitcase toward the path.
“I’m fine. It has wheels.”
“What about the stairs?”
“It’s fine,” I insist. “Go, Dean, otherwise you’ll miss your bus.”
Just as I give him a gentle shove to spur his sexy ass into gear, a familiar voice echoes behind us.
“Hey, Allie.”
My hand freezes against Dean’s chest. I quickly let it drop to my side, then turn around to greet the approaching figure. It’s Jim Paulson, one of Sean’s frat brothers. My nerves flutter in my belly as I wonder how much he heard. And saw…
Shit. Did he see me kiss Dean?
“Hi,” I say, forcing a smile. “How was your Thanksgiving?”
“It was all right.” Jim’s gaze flicks toward Dean. “Hey, man.”
“Hey,” Dean says tightly.
“Where are you guys coming from?” His unmistakably suspicious gaze lands on my suitcase.
“New York,” I answer casually. “Dean’s from Manhattan and I’m from Brooklyn, so we carpooled. Go, environment!” I pretend to wave a little flag, but Jim doesn’t even crack a smile.
“Cool.” He continues to study me. “Uh, so yeah…nice seeing you.”
His parting smile is friendly enough, but as I watch him walk away, I can’t control the ball of dread that lodges in my throat. Fuck. I have a very, very bad feeling about this encounter. There’s no doubt in my mind that Jim will tell Sean about it. A part of me doesn’t care, because Sean’s not my boyfriend anymore.
Even so, the anxiety eddying in my stomach refuses to go away, and I know I’m going to be worrying about this all fricking day. Waiting for the other shoe to drop.
*
The shoe drops at one in the morning. It drops hard. No, it drops loudly. As in, I’m rudely awakened from a deep sleep to noisy pounding on the door.
I sit up and frantically look around, because it takes my not-yet-alert brain a few seconds to comprehend what’s going on. Once it registers that the sounds are coming from the front door, I fly out of my bedroom and stagger into the common area. Two shadowy figures stumble out of Hannah’s room at the same time. My sleepy roommate and her boyfriend halt abruptly when they spot me.
Bang.
Bang bang bang.
“What the hell?” Garrett sounds groggy as he turns his head toward the noise.
My pulse speeds up when I hear Sean’s voice.
“Allie!” he shouts from behind the door. “I know you’re in there! Let me in, goddamn it!”
Just like that, Garrett is wide awake and marching to the door. I squeak in alarm, but he doesn’t open it—he simply pounds his fist against it a couple times. “Shut the hell up, asshole. You’re going to wake up everyone on the floor.”
“Like I give a shit!” comes Sean’s furious reply. “I need to talk to Allie.”
“Then pick up the phone and call her like a normal, sane person,” Garrett snaps. “And do it tomorrow morning. Allie’s asleep.”
Hannah moves beside me and rests a hand on my arm. My skin is ice cold and I know she feels it, because she gives a soft, comforting stroke. “Garrett will get rid of him,” she whispers.
But she’s underestimated Sean’s stubbornness. “She’s not asleep,” he snaps back. “I know my girlfriend—”
Ex-girlfriend! I almost yell.
“—and she’s standing right behind the fucking door, I know she is.” The pounding picks up again. Bang. Bang bang bang. “Allie! Open the door! We need to talk!”
I flinch. Hannah wraps one arm around my shoulders.
“Bang on this door one more time and I’m calling the fucking cops,” Garrett hisses out.
Bang bang bang.
My throat squeezes shut. Goddamn it. He won’t go away. I know he won’t, and I’m suddenly overcome with visions of campus security and a police brigade swarming Bristol House like a SWAT team taking out a bank robber. Which wouldn’t just be mortifying, but completely disruptive. From that point on, everyone in this dorm will think of me as the chick with the insane ex-boyfriend.
“Let him in,” I say weakly.
Garrett whirls around, his gray eyes blazing. “No fucking way, Allie. He’s drunk.”
“I know, but he’ll calm down once he’s inside.” My shoulders droop unhappily. “He’ll stay out there all night, Garrett. Just let him in and I’ll talk him down. I can handle this, I promise.”
Hannah’s boyfriend remains skeptical. I don’t blame him. Sean is absolutely acting like a crazy person right now. But I spent four years with the guy, and I know he’s all bark and no bite. He would never hurt me in the physical sense.
Garrett points a finger at me. “If he tries anything, I’ll beat the shit out of him.”
I nod.
Cursing under his breath, he flicks the lock and eases the door open. I half expect Sean to barrel inside and do a somersault before popping to his feet, like an army commando on a mission. But he enters with slow, labored steps that match his ragged breathing. His brown eyes instantly seek me out.
“We need to talk,” he mutters.
Garrett has glued himself to Sean’s side. Hannah has glued herself to mine.
I gulp nervously, easing myself out of my best friend’s grip. “Can you guys give us a minute?”
“Absolutely not.” Garrett’s expression is awash with disbelief.
“Please. It’s okay. We’re just going to talk.” I shoot Sean a pointed look. “Right?”
His jaw tightens, but he nods. “Right. Just wanna talk.”
Several seconds drag by. Then Garrett swears again and scowls at Sean. “Don’t do anything stupid, man. You so much as look at her the wrong way and the only thing you’ll be talking to is my fist.”
Sean’s head dips in another nod. Hannah’s boyfriend has about five inches and fifty pounds on him, and it’s obvious Sean takes the threat seriously.
Hannah squeezes my arm. “We’ll be in my room. Shout if you need us.”