Page 15 of Don't Leave
As I stare after Brooklyn’s retreating form, I realize that I’m not the only one. At least four pair of eyes, including Austin’s, follow her black swishing tail as she vacates the room.
“I’m not sure if Brooklyn knows what she wants.” Or maybe she just wishes she didn’t want the person who carved out a place in her heart.
Cole captures my distracted attention when he slips his hand into mine. I smile as he gives my fingers a squeeze before leaning down to brush a kiss against my lips. Needing more, I grab the front of his hockey jersey and pull him down for another. As our lips continue to linger, someone clears their throat from beside us. We break apart only to find Austin.
One brow is cocked as he glares. “Can’t you two keep your hands off each other for five freaking minutes?”
One side of Cole’s mouth lifts as he wraps an arm around my shoulder before tugging me closer. “Nope.”
Even though I should mind my own business, I nod toward the girl who had been snuggled up against him a few minutes ago. “Who’s that?”
His expression doesn’t change as his gaze flickers toward the female in question. She perks up before smiling brightly and giving him a wave.
Austin lifts his chin in acknowledgement. “Just someone I know.”
I make a noncommittal noise deep in my throat but remain silent. His attention shifts from the tall blonde who’d been clinging to him to where Brooklyn is just visible in the other room. That’s when I realize thatjust a girl I knowbears a striking resemblance to his ex.
Austin’s face darkens. “I need to get back to Eva.” Without another word, he stalks to his Brooklyn look-alike. What’s obvious is that neither them are completely over the other.
Cole brushes his mouth over mine before whispering, “I think my lips were right about here when we were so rudely interrupted.”
My belly dips as his eyes darken. That one heated look is enough to have the thick crowd surrounding us fading into the background.
Have I mentioned how sexy Cole is in his hockey jersey?
His lips lower until they’re able to brush over mine. “Is there any chance of getting a physical later on, doc?”
“Yup. And it’s going to beincrediblythorough.”
“I like the sound of that. Maybe we should get out of here now. What do you think?”
I press closer before nipping at his lower tug and tugging it between my teeth. “Let’s dance for a bit and then we can slip away.”
“Sounds like a date.” He winks before grabbing my hand and towing me through the gyrating throng to the living room where everyone is dancing to the loud pulsing beat. A strobe light flickers, illuminating all the costumed students. It takes only a moment for us to lose ourselves in the music. Brooklyn and one of Cole’s teammates, Alex, join us. Alex is wearing a giant condom costume.
It fits him well.
The guy is all about hooking up.
His face sticking out of the made-for-her-pleasure latex is hilarious.
Watching him attempt to put the moves on Brooklyn is even funnier because she’s not having any of it. She shuts him down at every turn. Even though my relationship with Alex started out rocky, we’ve slowly become friends.
All right, maybe the termfriendsis a bit of an overstatement.Acquaintancesprobably sums up our relationship rather nicely. Cole was right when he said Alex was harmless.
He is.
The guy is built like a brick shithouse and is a real goofball. I’ve got to hand it to him—for someone so enormous, he’s incredibly smooth on his feet.
After about an hour on the dance floor, we’re all sweaty messes.
Brooklyn yells over the music, “Let’s find the bathroom.”
Before I can nod in agreement, she’s dragging me away from Cole and toward a long stretch of hall. I let Cole know what’s going on before getting towed behind her. It takes effort to shove our way through all the zombies, ghosts, and sexy devils packing the hallway. The line for the bathroom is ten deep and it takes at least fifteen minutes before we’re able to lock ourselves in the small space.
As Brooklyn uses the toilet first, I turn toward the mirror to assess the damage. Like I assumed, it’s bad. My face is all red and sweaty from dancing. I look like I’ve just run a marathon. I’m glad I decided to wear scrubs and nothing heavier. Even though it’s the end of October and there’s a chill in the air, it’s hot as hades in here. All the people crammed inside the house don’t help matters either.
After Brooklyn finishes up, we change places. She checks herself out in the rectangular mirror hanging over the sink. Unlike me, she’s not all sweaty or red faced. I narrow my eyes. Instead of sweating, she looks more like she’s shimmering.
