Page 45 of Blocked Score

But however hot the liquor feels as she swallows, it’s nothing compared to my gaze razing over her. My eyes are so hot as they roam over the skin exposed by her tight, revealing dress that I’m surprised my lashes aren’t being singed off.

“I’ll be fine,” Scarlett says, shaking off the effect of the alcohol. “The club’s just a couple blocks away, and I’m wearing a coat when I’m outside, obviously.”

My brow pulls lower over my eyes. I become aware of just how tight my jaw is clenched. “Still.”

I put myself in the shoes of one of the guys at the club Scarlett and her friend Harper are going to.

Seeing Scarlett with that dress on. How the cut-out design shows off a generous peek of cleavage and a diamond of skinjust below her tits that look fucking sinful underneath the fabric. Her bare arms and shoulders, her long and shapely legs, all that glowing skin dotted with artful, eye-catching tattoos.

I imagine what they’re going to think, what they’re going to feel, the fantasies that are going to run through their heads, and suddenly I want to commit multiple felonies.

Since she’s moved in, I haven’t seen Scarlett with any guys. If she’s in the mood for a hookup, she sure as fuck won’t have trouble finding one tonight, not looking like that.

That certainty makes it feel like there’s a tight fist in my chest, squeezing my heart. My face is so tense that there’s a continuous tick at my left nostril.

“Are you feeling left out of girls’ night, Lane?” Harper asks me teasingly. “You seem upset.”

This is my first time meeting Harper. She seems like a pretty cool chick. Responsible. The kind of girl I feel more comfortable knowing Scarlett’s with if she’s going to some meat market packed with horny college guys. Not that Scarlett isn’t responsible. I know she can take care of herself in any situation. But still.

“I’m very upset,” I reply, hoping to shake off my caveman jealousy with some sarcasm, “I don’t handle being left out well.”

“Maybe you can come out with us on the next girls’ night, but you’ll have to wear a dress,” Harper says. Scarlett sputters a laugh into the bottle of water she’s sipping from. I insisted they both hydrate if they were going to pregame.

I grin. “Don’t make an offer you’re not prepared for me to accept.”

Scarlett tilts a wry look at me, her eyes elevatoring up and down my body. “I think that’s a sight a lot of people would pay good money to see.”

Something tells me she’s undressing me with her eyes, and my cock twitches behind my sweatpants.

But just as I feel a swell in my groin announcing an oncoming stiffy, I think back to a couple days ago when we walked back from her pre-law mixer.

How the night ended with her dashing away from me and up to her room, right after I told her I haven’t forgotten a single thing about that summer in Chicago.

The summer that feels like yesterday in my head, so much so that I can still feel the invigorating warmth of the sun on my arms when we sat in the park together, even while we’re deep in the frigid Vermont winter.

I remember the way my chest sank as I saw her hurry away from that admission. It’s enough to divert the blood flow from my dick.

I was stupid to admit that to her. She made it clear back then that she didn’t see anything between us beyond the time we spent together in Chicago. And frankly, it’s just shitty of me to insinuate that I have lingering feelings when we’re living together and she has nowhere else to go.

If I make things weird and uncomfortable between us by opening up about how I really felt, how I really still feel, she’ll have no choice other than to just suffer through it. That’s the last thing I want.

I was dumb to even reference that summer. I can’t make that mistake again.

My attention gets pulled back to the present when the door opens, and Sebastian walks through.

“Back already, Seb?” I ask. “I thought you had a booty call.”

“I thought so, too,” Sebastian grumbles. “But when I got to her room, this chick pulled out a grey wig and wanted me to wear it and pretend to be one of her professors. I didn’t?—”

His voice comes to a screeching halt. His eyes latch onto Harper sitting in the living room. Furrows dig into the skin of his forehead.

“What’sshedoing here?” he asks.

My gaze slices between them. “You two know each other?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Unfortunately.”

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