The girl makes a valid point. He should really listen to her.
“Yeah, I know. But I still want to make this work.” There’s a pause. “Don’t you? Don’t we owe it to ourselves to give this one last shot?”
When she remains silent, he closes the distance between them before cupping her cheeks with his hands. Then he leans in and plants a kiss on her lips.
If I know Sydney (and I do), she’ll react one of two ways. One, she’ll scratch his eyes out or two—
She’ll melt beneath his hands, and they’ll start sucking face.
When her mouth opens under the pressure of his, I know exactly how the rest of this night will go. And that’s with the two of them playing an intense game of tonsil hockey while I stand around feeling like an awkward third wheel.
Sydney tosses her empty cup over her shoulder before twining her arms around his shoulders. From somewhere behind her comes a disgruntled—hey!
I take another sip of my now lukewarm drink and wince. Icy cold beer goes down a lot easier than room temperature hops and barley.
Yuck.
As I step away to give them a bit of much needed privacy—even though they’re making out in the middle of a crowded party—Ethan pulls away and stares at me with a dazed expression.
“Ummm, Justin is around here somewhere.”
Great. Exactly the person I wanted to contend with. This night has officially gone down the tubes. Justin and I haven’t spoken since he dropped me off Wednesday night. There’s been a text or two, but otherwise, we’ve both been busy.
I jerk my thumb over my shoulder and point to nowhere in particular. “I guess that would be my cue to leave.”
Ethan flashes me a lopsided grin before his lips return to Sydney’s. With one last look at the pair, I shake my head and take off. It’s even more jampacked than when we arrived an hour ago. People are crammed into the first floor of this house like sardines.
As I move into the dining room, I notice a couple of guys from the football team. They wave me over, and since I have nothing better to do, I join their small group, relieved to find a few friendly faces in the crowd. Nothing says loser more than standing around by yourself in the middle of a rager.
“Congrats on the win!” I shout to Brayden Kendricks before he pulls me in for a quick hug. I’ve known him since freshman year. He’s like a big brother to me. Even though he’s hot as hell, I’ve never felt anything more than friendship for him.
He glances around before his gaze returns to mine. “What? No roommate? I was under the impression you two were surgically attached at the hip.”
“She’s currently attached to someone else’s hip at the moment,” I joke.
The smile disappears, only to be replaced with a frown. “She still with that guy?”
I shrug, surprised he’s been following the whole Sydney-Ethan romantic rollercoaster.
Which is...kind of interesting.
“For the moment. Check back tomorrow. We could have a different answer.”
With his brows beetled together, his gaze coasts over the throng.
Almost as if he’s searching for her.
Even though that seems doubtful, I can’t resist teasing, “Hmmm, am I sensing a bit of interest on your part?”
He lifts a bottle of beer to his lips and takes a long swig. “The girl is seriously hot, but she’s way too much work.”
I snort and shake my head.
Here’s the thing about Brayden—he doesn’t chase girls, they chase him. With his dark hair and eyes, the guy is a real heartbreaker. He’s funny, has a great personality, and is intelligent. Not to mention muscular. In other words, he’s catnip for the females on campus. He’s been voted campus heartthrob three years running. And I have no doubt he’ll receive the distinction for his fourth and final year, a Western University first.
Before I can investigate the situation further, a leggy blonde with humongous breasts squeezes her way between us before pressing her double D’s against him. He grins, his attention homing in on the groupie.
I’ve watched this scene play out too many times not to know how it’ll end. He’ll flash his signature panty-dropping smile, and she’ll sigh, fall onto her back, and spread her legs wide.
Someone hand me a barf bag before I’m sick.
For a flicker of a moment, I’d actually thought he might be interested in Sydney. I glance at him again. The blonde is now clinging to him like a barnacle, and he’s certainly not fighting her off. I can all but guarantee that girl will be taking a ride on the Brayden express this evening.
I’m knocked out of those thoughts when one of the younger guys comes up behind me and grinds. Mitch Harrison is a sophomore. He’s a defensive tackle and a teddy bear of a guy, weighing in at three hundred pounds. We had a class together last year. As far as dudes go, he’s pretty harmless. I’m about to bust out a move when a muscular arm slides between our bodies and hauls me away. Air gets trapped in my throat as I’m pressed against a hard chest.