Page 61 of Lovesick
It only takes one second.
“I wantyou, Merit! Jesus Christ. You’re driving me fucking crazy. You’re all I ever think about. I’ve been obsessed with you from the moment we met. Is that what you want to hear? Do you want to know all about the nitty-gritty details? The fact that I can barely eat or sleep because you live rent free in my mind? The fact that everything comes second to you? You’re underneath my goddamn skin, and I don’t have the power to dig you out. Every time you laugh or smile—reminding me that you’re not mine—it’s like someone has the barrel of a gun pressed between my eyes, and they’re going in for the kill shot. Butputting me out of my misery seems merciful instead of having to live my life admiring you from afar.”
17
BLAME IT ON THE ALCOHOL
MERIT
What. The. Fuck.
Did Crew just say what I think he said? Am I hallucinating right now? I mean, I know I basically pressured him into telling me the truth, but I wasn’t expecting aNotebook-worthy confession.
Come on, Merit. Say something! Anything!
My thoughts are misty, my mouth is agape like a fish out of water, and I have no words of actual substance to contribute to the conversation. It’s like everything has been lost in translation, and I can’t temper the unfettered torrents of anxiety funneling inside me. My body anticipates him kissing me in a whirlwind of passion as he rolls his pelvis over my pussy in silent supplication, long-jumping over every obnoxious hurdle that’s stood in our way up until this moment.
I’m greedy, and I want to unwrap my present.Now.
But instead of claiming his mouth with mine, the most idiotic slew of words spews out of me. “You’re serious?”
Crew lowers his head to blow out a sexually frustrated breath—adjusting the bottom half of himself indiscreetly—andwhen he meets my gaze again, his eyes shine with firelight. “Deadly.”
My chest tightens on a pent-up inhale, the caution tape acting as a flimsy barrier against his hungry hands—ones that have already destroyed and rebuilt me. A crime is going to be committed tonight. And that crime? Crew Calloway is going to murder my pussy.
Tension razes the air as a riptide of lust washes over me, carrying me out to sea where I lose all sense of direction. My belly somersaults. He’s staring at my lips like they’re a Michelin star meal and he’s starving for a single taste.
“Prove it,” I whisper, rutting my hips against his, feeling the soft ribbon from his bow brush against my scantily clad form. He’s already hard, and considering his cock is the size of a small rocket, there’s no saying if he’ll burst out of his costume. “Take me back to that night.”
Crew knocks his forehead against mine, his arms beginning to shake, and that gentleman act of his is slowly starting to slip through his fingers like sand in an hourglass. “Fuck, Merit.”
Judging by his distended bulge and the desperate little whimpers whirring in his throat, I give him less than a minute before he’s bowling over Sig Chi’s pledges and carrying me up the stairs to a secluded room.
But, because the world has some unresolved vendetta against me, we’re interrupted before we can get to the good bit.
Irelyn, alcohol-flushed, penetrates my line of sight, making me and Crew instinctively jump apart from each other.
“There you guys are! Let’s dance!” she enthuses, being the second person of the night to drag me by the arm.
Grimacing—and trying not to strangle the life out of her—I let her yank me through a meandering stream of bodies and onto the dance floor, all while Crew attempts to keep up with us.
Irelyn St. Clair, count your days.
My best friend has somehow assembled the rest of Crew’s hockey team out of sheer charisma, and we join them right as the unpaid and overworked DJ cues up “Yeah!” by Usher. I can barely move in here. Some girl is twerking against my butt, and if I scoot forward any more, I’ll be flattened against Crew’s front. His delicious, naked front.
When it was just us in the hallway, I wasn’t so shy, but now there’s hundreds of wandering eyes waiting for me to slip up. If I pursue something with Crew, it’ll have to be in secret. That’s the only way it can work.
I need another drink.
Thankfully, Irelyn takes her red Solo cup from Harlan, sipping daintily from it. The raucous, slightly distorted music is curb-stomping my brain in, and the temperature has risen a whole ten degrees within a matter of minutes. I know I should ask first, but it’s a knee-jerk response when I grab Irelyn’s half-full drink and chug whatever mystery liquid is fermenting in her cup. She doesn’t oppose. In fact, she cheers me on with a celebratory holler.
Ugh. It’s beer. And it’s warm. Not a good combination with the anxiety swooping low in my stomach.
My crutch disappears from my hand in the blink of an eye, and suddenly, Irelyn is twirling me under her arm, her pearly-white teeth glistening underneath the strobe lights. A motley of neon colors shutters past my vision as I pocket all my worry to be tomorrow’s problem. I stop fighting the endorphins, losing myself to the feel-good ambience and the high of my very own vodka-beer concoction.
Crew, however, is still in watchdog mode, taking his unofficial job as my bodyguard a little too seriously. The rest of his teammates are riding the same wave as me and Irelyn, jumping up and down every time the beat drops. Throughout the set, I switch from grinding on my best friend to joining the giant kumbaya circle in the middle of the dance floor. Some guydressed in one of those blow-up dinosaur costumes does the worm on the ground, and chaos erupts shortly after. I don’t remember the last time I felt so…relaxed.
I’m not sure how much time has passed, but by the twelfth or something song, I glance over to find Irelyn and Harlan getting pretty handsy with each other. Sutton is dancing behind a blonde in an intricate getup made entirely from a Twister mat, and Foster has dipped from the dance floor, so that just leaves me and Crew. Aside from a shoulder shimmy, he hasn’t let loose, and I know that man has an endless well of stamina because of…past experience. His mouth is also wrenched in a perpetual frown.
