Page 32 of Fault Line

“You were on fire tonight, Becker,” one of them says, cheersing me with a flimsy Solo cup.

“Thanks, man.” I give him a quick nod, deflecting from the praise. It’s easy to get swept up in the hype, but I’d rather not come off like an entitled dickhead for once. “We all played a good game.”

They agree and then start droning on about some drama they have going with a nearby sorority. From my half-assed attempts at listening, it sounds like the girls have been sneaking in and stealing their composite photos. They’ve collected at least ten of them from prior years, and no one can quite figure out who’s doing it and when.

I really couldn’t care less about the whole situation. I’ve been trying to find an opening to step away from them for the last ten minutes, desperately scanning the crowd for a familiar face.

And that’s when I spot Kaia from across the room.

She’s leaning against the wall, her eyes sparkling with laughter as she chats with some guy I don’t recognize. They’re lost in conversation, their faces inches apart, and I feel a pang of something hot and sour in my gut.

I try to push it down, to tell myself that it’s nothing, that I’m being ridiculous. But as the guy brushes Kaia’s hair behind her ear, whispering something to her, I lose all semblance of control.

I cut off whatever conversation’s happening in front of me, making up some bullshit excuse to leave. Then I push through the crowd toward Kaia, heart racing.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt,” I say, directing my attention to the random dude next to her. “One of your brothers just mentioned that you’re a big hockey fan. Thought I’d come over to say hey.”

“Uh.” He gives me an odd look, shifting his eyes and glancing at Kaia like she might be in on the joke. “Yeah, not really. Sorry, man.”

Well, fuck. That was a shot in the dark that didn’t pan out like I’d hoped.

Kaia’s eyes widen for a moment and then narrow in my direction. She’s not buying my bullshit for a second. “Right, so anyway.” She drags out the word, her tone filled with annoyance. “Later, Beck.”

As she turns her back on me, a flush of heat creeps up my neck. It’s embarrassing how obvious I’m being right now, but I can’t bring myself to stop. “So, what are you two talking about?” I cut in again, attempting to keep my voice casual.

The guy turns to look at me now, fully sizing me up. He’s tall and muscular, with a perfect head of hair and a million-watt smile.

What a piece of shit.

“Just talking.” He raises an irritated brow. “Did you need something, man?”

I’m bristling, my fists clenching at my sides. I’m not sure what it is about this guy, but I can tell that he’s trouble. He’s been looking at Kaia like she’s a piece of meat, and I don’t fucking like it.

As the tension between us rises, Kaia grows uneasy. She turns to the asshole beside her and asks, “Hey, how about I just come to find you later?”

His face falls, but he quickly recovers. Reaching out, he gives Kaia a quick squeeze on the arm before stepping away. “Sure, we’ll talk then.”

Once he’s out of earshot, Kaia fixes her heated gaze back on me, both hands perched on her hips. “If I didn’t already know you were trying to cockblock me, now I’d be one hundred percent sure.”

“Well, isn’t this a pleasant surprise,” I say, blatantly ignoring her comment. “I’ve seen you outside the classroom twice in one week. Must be some kind of record.”

She rolls her eyes, twiddling the bracelet on her wrist. “Just needed to get out of the apartment for a while.”

I clear my throat, taking in the full effect of her appearance. She’s wearing a tight-fitting top that accentuates every curve and a tiny little skirt that shows off her long legs. The dim lights of the frat house make her glow, and I’m finding it difficult to concentrate on anything else.

“You’re still on the hunt for a hookup,” I say, attempting nonchalance.

Her frown deepens. “Is that really any of your business?”

“Just trying to make conversation, Karras,” I say, raising my hands in surrender. “Besides, I’m pretty sure you made it my business the other night.”

She lets out an exasperated sigh. “Yeah, well, that was an error in judgment.”

“Was it?”

“Clearly, since you and your buddies are so unwilling to help me.”

“What if I told you that I’m willing now?” I propose, taking a step closer.

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